Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to them.
Warnings: Underage. Cross-dressing. Daddy Kink. Humor? Dark Humor? Just Humor.
Parings: Lucius/Harry/Severus, Draco/Ron, Narcissa/Hermione, Fenrir/Remus
A/N: I tried to go full dark, but I am soft lol. Think Little Voices and Gentle Beasts, add the humor and darkness of the Addams Family movies (90s) and you get this fic.
Enjoy.
Devil's Adored
Three weeks into June, a neighborhood is awoken to screaming.
The door to the second room at 4 Privet Drive burst open, and a large man stumbled inside.
"Shut up!" the man roared as he lumbered over to the bed where the screaming was coming from.
A body writhed, twisting into the old sheets.
The screaming got louder.
It's muffled by the large hand of the man, while the other held down the body.
"Wake up boy, wake up!"
It took minutes, long tense minutes, for the muffled screaming and withering to finally stop. Cautiously, the hand slid away. Eyes watched, waiting for it to start back up again, nothing except a small twitch here and there. Letting out a long slow breath of air, the large man turned around to leave.
In the doorway, was his wife and son, both pale and troubled looking.
"G-Go back to bed."
"Vernon," His wife's voice is trembling a little, the grip on their son's shoulder is tight.
"It's fine," his voice is firmer now, stronger, "it's fine."
Biting her bottom lip, and after a long thoughtful moment, she nodded, "Let's go back to bed," she then said to her son.
"But-"
Their son doesn't get to finish, his wife is ushering him away, a fearful look over her shoulder at the bed. With one last glance at the still twitching body, he left. And though he's sure it wouldn't do anything, he placed a chair beneath the doorknob then went to bed.
The screaming still ringing in his ears.
It sounded like someone dying.
~.~
The next morning, Dudley stood in front of the door, the chair still there. Everything in his body language spoke of nervousness, or if he was honest with himself. Worry.
His parents were downstairs, both getting ready for their day, and acting as though last night had not happened.
He couldn't do that.
Taking a deep breath, and wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers, he set aside the chair and opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the empty owl cage, vaguely he concluded that it must have been let out last night and yet to return, as his eyes go to the bed. The sheets were on the ground, and the body was sprawled over the mattress.
Gulping, Dudley opened his mouth, "Harry?"
Not even a twitch.
Shuffling his feet, Dudley debated just leaving, but he pushed forward. Moving closer until he was standing next to the bed, Harry was on his back, his normally wild hair was stuck to his forehead, it looked like he was sweating. Cautiously, Dudley reached out and shook his cousin's arm.
"Harry?" He whispered, "Harry?" He then said a bit louder.
Harry groaned but did nothing else.
That's when he noticed how hot it felt underneath his palm, frowning, the teenager reached up and smoothed the dark hair to properly feel the other's forehead; the skin felt wet but worriedly hot.
"Fever," His mind supplied as he removed his hand.
There was a smear of blood, it came from the lightning bolt scar. Now panicking, he left the room to the bathroom, grabbed a wet rag then some medicine, and returned. Carefully he wiped at the blood, and while it looked red and tender no more came out, so he figured it was fine. Now came the hard part.
"Harry." He shook his cousin again, this time harder than last.
Harry groaned, and mumbled something, it sounded like one of those weird spells, he paused, then shook his cousin again.
"Harry!"
Eyes fluttered open, green eyes are dazed with fever, but he does open his mouth and swallowed the liquid when the measuring cup was pressed to his lips. Once he set the bottle on the desk, he just stood there, unsure of what else to do. He's tempted to go through the other teenager's trunk to see if there was something there to help, despite his uneasiness about it, quickly he dismissed it. Instead, he left the room, placed the chair back in its proper place, and headed downstairs, making a note of the time.
The medicine said it was to be taken every four hours.
Entering the kitchen, his father greeted him from behind his newspaper, while his mother finished frying up the sausages.
"Good morning, my little Dudley." His mother kissed him on the forehead as she set down his plate.
She made enough for the three of them.
Dudley doesn't say anything about it, or what he had been up to earlier.
Instead, he dutifully ate his food as his parents converse, answering questions when they were directed at him.
"Gonna hang out with the guys." He told his mother when she asked what he had planned for the day.
After breakfast, he went back upstairs, he took his time getting ready. He grabbed his allowance money, shoved it into his pocket, headed back down, sat on the sofa, and turned on the telly.
"I'll be back at five!" His mother called as she left out the door.
Dudley grunted.
His father left shortly after.
Dudley left after that, walking to the nearest store, he grabbed more medicine and orange juice. Then after a thought, some cough drops and a candy bar. Once paying for everything, he went back home. Quickly he headed upstairs, removed the chair, and entered the room. Harry had rolled over and curled into a ball, checking his temper, the older teen wasn't sure if it went down or not. Instead, he left the medicine, cough drops, and juice on the table.
After that, he went down to watch the telly because what else could he do?
~.~
While they weren't woken up in the middle of the night again, Harry was sick for three days, his mother had found out the first day after returning home. And Dudley, while sure the worry he saw was genuine, he wasn't sure if it was because she was actually worried for his cousin, or worried about the consequences should the other teenager get worse. He never got his answer though as when he entered the room on the fourth, he saw Harry awake and up, blinking slowly at the contents on the table by the bed.
"Harry?"
Harry turned his head to him, blinked, then, "M'comin'."
His voice was low and slightly slurred, and when he tried to get up, Dudley moved and set him back down; surprised at how gentle he had been about it.
"Rest." He then said, cheeks flushing underneath the stare, "Y-You've been sick for a while."
Harry mumbled something else, but he's out soon enough.
Dudley stood there, looking at his cousin, relief having his shoulders slumping.
This was good.
This was good.
~.~
Everything was back to normal by the seventh day, though Dad and Mum kept looking at Harry like he was either going to start screaming again or drop dead at any moment. And Dudley found himself in his cousin's room that night once his parents were asleep, unsure why.
It had been awkward.
On the eighth night, they get a knock on the door.
~.~
Vernon would never forget the first one who had hurt his Dudley, large, loud, hairy, and unnatural.
He never forgot any of them.
But this one, this one was different.
Large as the first that invaded bombarded into life those years ago, amber eyes that gleamed in the light. Dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, but there was an air of being uncomfortable in them. And when he stepped through the doorway without so much as a 'hello' something in Vernon's mind screeched predator.
The man, who Vernon very much doubt was indeed a man, stepped around the Muggle and down the hall. Vernon quickly followed.
"G-Get out of my house!" Vernon demanded as they both entered the living room where his wife and son were.
They had been watching a movie before the knock.
The man stood there, eyes roaming the room, paying no mind to how Petunia gave a small shriek of horror and jumped out of her seat. Grabbing her son, the woman pushed him behind her and shuffled both of them far away. Vernon soon joined them, standing as a shield between them and their…guest. Amber eyes looked his way, and Vernon went stiff.
"Where is he?" The voice is rough, low. With a hint of something that Vernon refused to name.
When no answer came, the question is repeated.
"Where is he?"
Now, though he did not like them, Vernon was no fool. Just because this one was different did not mean he was the same, and because he was no fool…. he lied.
"Not here."
Their guest tilted his head just so, long wild grey almost white hair falling like a curtain, and smiled.
"Lies, I can smell him."
Well. That was…that was new.
"V-Vernon." Petunia whispered behind him, tugging on his arm, "just call for him."
Vernon looked at his wife, her expression fearful but determined, then at Dudley who looked more weary and confused than afraid. He looked back at the problem in the room. While certainly different than usual, he wasn't doing anything else, hadn't even pulled out that blasted wand. So perhaps he was just overreacting…..perhaps
"Boy, get down here!"
The silence after that was uncomfortable, neither looking away from each other, their guest's smile grew wider and Vernon thought he saw fangs.
The sound of feet descending the stairs had everyone looking in that direction.
"Yes Uncle-"
His nephew stared at the guest in the room, said guest stared back. Then he took a step forward.
"The pictures don't you justice Pup."
"Erm, thank you?"
Eyes gleaming, their guest finally introduced himself, "Name's Fenrir."
Instead of responding, Harry glanced at his relatives, expression bewildered then back at the other, cautiously he asked, "Did Dumbledore send you?"
Their guest's expression turned very amused as he shrugged, "Sure."
And then Uncle Vernon did something no one thought he would ever do, he stepped forward, grabbed Harry by the arm, pulled him away and behind him.
There is a silence as though either party could not believe that had happened, especially Harry.
Then Fenrir threw his head back and laughed.
"And here I was told you wouldn't give me any trouble!"
The smile grew, it turned into something not nice.
"Ah well, more fun for me then."
There was a growl that was not human, and then Fenrir was stalking forward.
"Wait!"
Harry stepped from around his Uncle, determined, "J-Just let me get my stuff, and we can go."
There is a pause, a long pause, then the one called Fenrir lifted his hand, Vernon noticed how sharp they looked, and ruffled Harry's hair, "No need for that Pup, just you."
Then they were gone.
And for once in his life, Vernon hoped he saw his nephew again.
~.~
He probably would have broken both his glasses and nose had Fenrir not caught him about the chest.
"Rough landing there," Fenrir chuckled as he set him on his feet.
"T-Thanks."
Fenrir grunted as he leaned down to picked up the teenager's glasses, Harry blinked as they were placed back on, able to see properly, he looked around.
He doesn't recognize anything, beyond the fact that he's in some kind of lit hallway.
"This way."
Quietly, Harry followed the other down the hall, glancing about, wondering if what he saw in the shadows was there or not. Finally, they come to a door, Fenrir gave a quick knock before opening and standing aside to let Harry walkthrough. Biting his bottom lip, the teenager does.
The first thing that surprised him is how warm the room felt, inviting, even more, when he noticed who was inside. His eyes first land on Snape, imposing as ever even when he's just sitting in a chair behind a desk. Those dark eyes, often cold, or sometimes angry when directed at him, bore into him with anything but. Harry didn't know what it was, and he wasn't sure if he should be afraid or not. Movement, had Harry looking to his left; his body went tense.
Lucius Malfoy.
The older Malfoy had been sitting in the cushioned chair, and upon seeing the young wizard enter had stood.
"What-"
Harry couldn't finish his sentence, he was pretty sure he didn't have anything else to say beyond what was going on. Though he did notice that he wasn't afraid, even though he most definitely should.
Malfoy moved closer as Snape got up from his desk to join him. Instinctively, the young wizard took a step back, grunting when he hit something, looking over his shoulder, and saw Fenrir. Gulping, Harry looked back.
Malfoy smiled, not sneered or smirk, genuinely smiled.
"Hello, Harry."
~.~
The dungeon was far colder than the one back at Hogwarts.
At least, that's what was going through Harry's head as he followed his professor and Malfoy Senior down, Fenrir in the rear. Shivering, he rubbed at his arms, hoping either for warmth or that this ended quickly. Suddenly his skin tingled, and then he was warmer. Blinking, he glanced about and found Snape looking at him, eyes gleaming in the low light. Heart hammering for some reason he looked away, eventually, the man looked away too.
Finally, they come to a door, Malfoy pushed it open, and both he and Snape step aside, waiting. Nervously, Harry entered, the others followed. The teenager jumping when the door slammed shut.
"Oops," Fenrir grinned with a shrug, not bothered by the glare aimed his way from Snape.
Amused, Malfoy urged Harry closer to what he noticed and realized was a cell.
There was something in there.
After a glance from over his shoulder, and an encouraging nod from Malfoy, Harry stepped closer, he squinted to see through the low light; then his breath hitched and he backed away until he bumped into Snape. Quickly he moved away and turned around to face the three.
"H-How." He stuttered out.
"Minor details," Snape dismissed with a wave of his hand.
Voldemort, the freaking Dark Lord was locked up in their dungeon, and it was just minor details?!
Harry's not sure what his face looked like, but he's pretty sure it was somewhere between disbelief and What The Fuck.
Looking back at the cell, the Savior moved back closer.
Inside, Voldemort on the floor, chained. His face looked paler than the last Harry saw him and his robes dirty.
"Is….Is he dead?" He asked when he noticed the man wasn't moving.
Lucius came up and settled next to him, "He's alive, for now."
For now.
"Oh."
Harry is then silent.
This was all very, very, weird.
Footsteps, then there is a warmth at his back and the scent of sandalwood.
"What…." Harry licked his lips, and when he spoke again, his voice was unusually soft, "What happens now?"
Snape lifted his arm, and all Harry saw was green.
Severus killed Voldemort. How did that happen? Ah, don't worry about it.
Let Me Know What You Think!