Blackout
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Recommended Reads: Damaged Raven, Dark Lord Potter and Apex by JustBored21, Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, The Downward Spiral Saga by BolshevikMuppet99, Harry Potter and The Ashes of Chaos and Harry Potter and the Perversion of Purity by ACI100, The Dark Lord Peverell-Slytherin (Rewrite) by Ares Peverell-Slytherin, Circular Reasoning by Swimdraconian, Blood Crest by Cauchy, Darkly Dreaming Harry by Lineape, Worthy of Magic by Raul Fictitious, Path to Power by sirius009 and A Darker Shade of Magic by TheSonofTartarus77
Key Pairing: Harry/Lavender
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Review Answers:
JustBored21: Well, it's nice to have your support on this idea, my old friend: I also hope you like how I continue this new and improved adventure; oh, and get ready for the introduction of a certain something I hope you still don't mind me using and tweaking for this story;
THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!
So, with no idea what was causing the pain, or why he was being hurt so badly in the first place, Harry was left to do the only thing he could.
Scream.
Beg.
And pray that the torment would end soon, if only so he could find out why he was being hurt in the first place.
BOOK 1: Prelude To A Nightmare
Chapter 2: Tipping Point
"Wake up, little Mudblood. It's another glorious day…"
As had been the case for nearly six months now, Harry's stomach turned with sickness and fear, combined with a feeling of dread and nightmares, as he heard the mocking voice address him. Of course, them telling him to wake up was a moot point, since he hadn't been able to sleep, let alone dream, for about a fortnight now – just the latest in a long line of torments that his kidnappers had put him under – but Harry didn't give them the satisfaction of knowing this, or him telling them that he knew this.
The only thing he did was shiver as a brief, but arctic-level cold rush washed over his bare, naked, scarred and bruised skin as his tormentor walked into the small cell that had been Harry's home for half a year.
As he felt the cold, Harry bit back a whimper, as best as he could, as the cold wave stung at his recent scars, while their touch also caused his nerve endings to flare up in white-hot agony. At the same time, he was dimly aware of a candle being lit, revealing his tormentor, who seemed to be happily, if not mockingly, munching on a bacon sandwich that smelled even tastier than it looked.
"Mmm…" moaned the gaunt gentleman, whom Harry had come to think of as Blade, because of how he was responsible for most of, if not nearly all the scars, broken bones, burns and frayed muscles and nerves that had become part of Harry over the past six months – give or take a day.
As Harry looked to him in fear and a hint of desperation, Blade held out the half-eaten sandwich before he smiled wolfishly, "Smells good, doesn't it, little one? Well, if you want this, and not just another nasty little prick in your navel, you know what you have to tell us."
"I…I…I d-d-d…"
Before Harry could finish, he felt a familiar cascade of torturous energy strike him hard and fast, robbing him of his response.
And, instead, paving the way to more and more screams.
Blackout
As his mind, body and spirit buckled under the recent wave of agony, Harry tried to shut himself off to it, if only to escape the agony that was barely even a bee sting, when compared to some of the other things that his captors and tormentors – including, but not just limited to, Blade – had done to him since they'd stolen him from Little Whinging.
WARNING: Torture Descriptions Start
After using what he'd later learned was something called a Cruciatus Curse to force him to scream, as well as introducing him to some of the pain that awaited him if he didn't do as he was told, Blade and his sick-minded friends had gone to town on Harry.
First, Blade used something that looked like an oddly-shaped stick to launch bursts of light at Harry, whilst mumbling words and phrases that Harry had never heard before – Sana Omnia Vulnera; Vulnera Malefica; Vitus Glacien Malefica – which seemed to cause his body to heal, even when he didn't think it would. No matter what his tormentors did to him, at least with their stick-like things, his body always healed, while the pain he endured, from the Cruciatus to having his bones broken and reset and even having his organs and blood burned intensely, seemed to increase to a level that should have killed him.
But, for some insane, horrifying reason, he couldn't die…or at least, he wouldn't die, not until his tormentors had what they needed from him.
After only two months, however, Blade came into Harry's cell and reversed one of the tortures done to him, which meant all his torment, each and every one of his wounds were now visible – and, given that Harry was only seven, nearly eight, this also paved the way for nightmares beyond childish imagining – and near-permanent, if not healing very slowly.
This also meant that Blade could resume the torture in new ways; sometimes, he whipped Harry until the boy's back and chest were a patchwork quilt of scars and sores; sometimes, he broke the boy's finger and toe bones until his limbs hung there like deflated balloons; sometimes, he'd take his stick, light it like a Bonfire Night sparkler and draw what he called pretty pictures on the boy's arms, legs and the soles of his feet; and, at one point, one of Blade's companions even used their stick to force Harry to throw up and empty his bowels until his throat, chest, lungs and even his intestines burned with desperation, before blood flowed from Harry's mouth and out of his butt.
Not that even starvation or dehydration could silence or kill him, mind you, seeing as how, once a day, Blade's friends would come into the cell and inject strangely-coloured liquids directly into Harry's belly button, which, as much as he was hurt, Harry was also thankful to notice, somehow, they seemed to make him feel full, as though he'd eaten a big meal.
But then, soon after, his torture resumed and his stomach was emptied by force all over again.
Torture End (for now)
And, every time, every single time they let him up for air, his captors always asked the same question;
"How did you survive the Killing Curse? How did a Mudblood like you defy the will of the Dark Lord? Why didn't you die? How is it you have a scar, while the most-powerful wizard in the world was turned to ashes?"
And, every time, Harry, not even knowing why they were asking him such silly, insane questions, always had the same answer;
"I…I don't know…please…I promise…I don't know what you're talking about…please…let me go…I want to go home…please…no…stop…no more…please, I swear I don't know…"
And, with every answer, which seemed to be the wrong answer, his tormentors began their play again.
And Harry started screaming, started hurting and started begging for a death that may never come, all over again…
Blackout
"I think that's enough of the easy stuff, don't you, little Mudblood?"
A rising tide of vomit threatened to spew its way out of Harry's body as Blade finally released him from the latest batch of strange torture, lowering his unusual stick thing before he sighed softly as he walked right up to Harry, scoffing the last of his sandwich in the process.
Gripping the boy's chin hard in his bony fingers, Blade forced Harry to look up into his dirty, sewage-water-coloured eyes as he smiled a toothy smile before he continued, "You know, I have to wonder if you even understand what it is that I'm even calling you, Harry. I mean, we've been dancing this dance, singing this song and doing this do for the better part of six months now and, in all that time, you've never once given any answer other than those weirdly-convincing lies you keep spewing…"
"I…I'm not…I'm not l-l-l-lying…" gasped the small boy, who would have wept tears, even tears of blood, were it not for how his eyes had long since burned up and closed up his tear ducts, leaving his sclera completely bloodshot and his face aching with the salty reminder of his earlier tears.
Either that or one of his captors had forcibly closed his tear ducts, by some crazy means that didn't make sense, seeing as how there was no such thing as magic.
"I…I promise…" rasped Harry, whimpering at the aches in his vocal chords, which, thanks to the undoing of the curse, might as well have been on their last legs with how hoarse and gravelly his voice now sounded. "I…I swear…I don't know anything! I…I don't even know who…who you are…or why…why you…you say I…I sur…sur…survived a…a Killing Curse…please…please, Blade; just…just let me go…"
"Blade, huh?" asked his chief tormentor, chuckling amusingly as he sneered, "I kind of like that, little Mudblood; of course, it's clear you don't know anything about anything. In other words, you…you're just a weakling, aren't you?"
"Y…Y…Yes…"
"A nobody?"
"Y…Y…Yes…"
"A FREAK?"
Harry whimpered, but nodded weakly, earning a scoff from Blade as he pushed Harry's head back, causing him to slam the back of his skull against the already-bloodstained wall behind him.
"LIAR!"
"No…no…I promise…I swear…I…."
Suddenly, Harry's screams of protest were drowned out when Blade slashed his stick-like thing through the air, causing a real blade of strange origins to fly out towards him.
Before Harry knew what was happening, he felt his chest cave under the newest wave of pain.
Seconds later, darkness rushed up to greet him.
Blackout
"NO!"
Rage burned in Blade's eyes as he saw the light vanish from his new favourite toy's emerald-green orbs, while blood started to pool from the gaping, slashing wound that was now open on his frail chest. As he ran forwards again, dropping his wand in the process, Blade hurried to bandage up the wound with the rags strewn about the floor, but to no avail.
"What have you done?"
Suddenly, Blade turned to see a paler-than-pale-looking, white-faced, middle-aged man standing in the doorway to the cell, his own eyes milky-white and wider than wide while his hair was a dirty shade of blond with auburn flecks here and there. In one hand, the man carried what looked like a rolled-up parchment while, in the other hand, he had a syringe filled with the same liquid that Blade knew they fed to his pet every day, if only to keep it alive a little bit longer.
At that particular moment, however, Blade was only concerned about his own skin, "He…he wouldn't talk…you saw it; he tried to escape…he continued lying about the Dark Lord…about his freakish thing…he's just a filthy Mudblood; he had to know how he cheated…"
"Damnit!" snapped the newcomer, dropping the syringe onto the ground before he rushed forwards, shoving Blade aside as he checked the wound on Harry's chest, "You had better pray the Frozen Life Curse applies to such a grievous wound, you insane prick! Gods above and below, do you know something? I sometimes wonder who's crazier; you or your sister?"
"If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't even know where the Mudblood was!" snarled Blade, a part of him wondering how this interloper even dared to question him, let alone smear the name of his beloved sister, especially after all their family had done for this money-grubbing merc and his ilk.
And yet, the other man didn't seem too keen on thanking him, "He's fading…the Curse is actually failing…damn it, Phineas, you went too far!"
"What do you care?" sneered Blade, or Phineas, a look of disgust in his eyes as he spat at the bleeding boy's feet, "It's just one more Mudblood gone from the world."
"I don't…but you know who I work for: and when He finds out…"
Phineas scoffed; how he was sick and tired of these magpie-minded interlopers using some invisible, probably even fake bogeyman to try and get their way: well, he had an ace of his own up his sleeve. "I'm not scared of them: my sister already made sure I couldn't be targeted; so you can make all the empty threats you want to…I'm immune!"
"Excuse me?" asked the other man, turning to Phineas as he asked, "Do you honestly believe…or are you actually deranged enough to think that your stupid, power-hungry, rosé-obsessed felinophile of a sister can actually put some overcompensating, mind-broken, masochistic psycho like you in a spot where you are safe from us? From Him? What's she going to do, Phineas? Clear her throat at us?"
"Mind your tongue, Death Eater!"
"Death Eater?"
Here, the other man froze when a third, icy-cold, darker-than-dark and beyond-terrifyingly-powerful voice broke through their arguments.
While Phineas turned to the door to confront the newcomer, the second man grabbed his wand and, slashing it across Harry's chest, he closed up the gaping wound before he turned, prostrating himself at the feet of the newcomer.
"Sir…Master…I…I didn't know you…I thought…"
"Go home, Alexander," drawled the newcomer, striding into the cell with all the confidence in Creation in his stride; as he did so, the second man, Alexander, crawled out of the cell on his hands and knees, passing the newcomer, who now stared at Phineas with eyes darker than dark – which was an unusual thought, given how they were like the colour of cold, iced-sky-blue gemstones – while he cocked his head to one side as he addressed the crazy man. "Now, just so we understand one another perfectly, Mr Umbridge…did you actually just compare my agent, a man whom I have charged with the safety, life and responsibility to nurture and, when the time comes, protect this young boy behind you…did you just call him…a Death Eater?"
"You don't scare me, Ravenwood," growled Phineas, drawing himself to his full height as he sneered, "If you do anything to me, my sister…"
The audible snap of the man's neck being twisted around like a corkscrew cut Phineas off for good, while the pale man, Ravenwood, stepped over his corpse, sighing with what could only be described as disappointment, before he looked up to Harry.
"Why do these people never learn, eh, Harry?"
"P…P…Please…" gasped Harry, earning a brief flicker of relief from Ravenwood as he realised the spell that Alexander had put the boy under had to have worked, after all. Either that or the life-preserver that Alexander had reported detecting in the boy had needed to be used, which meant Ravenwood now had to move even more-carefully than before.
He had wanted Harry questioned, not interrogated and, definitely, not tortured to this extent.
Damnit to Hades: if only those Brits hadn't taken up so much of his time with covering up the boy's missing status, claiming guardianship and seeing to it that a full investigation was launched…
Heads were definitely going to roll before this was over.
For now, Ravenwood drew his wand and waved it over the boy, closing up more of his wounds before he smiled softly as he gently cupped Harry's chin in his forefinger and thumb.
When the boy flinched, Ravenwood's eyes flashed dangerously, silently vowing to make Alexander – and all those who'd been charged with protecting the boy until Ravenwood could get to him – pay dearly for making the boy even less-appealing than he already was.
He was meant to rise up, greater and more than ever before, not be broken down by some insane, delusional half-brother of a toad-bitch!
Ye gods, exactly what did Alexander tell that monster when they got the boy away from the Non-Magicals to begin with?
As Ravenwood asked himself questions he knew he would get the answers to, sooner or later, he cleared his throat softly as he looked into Harry's weak, barely-life-filled emerald-green eyes, tracing a single thumb over one of the newer scars on the boy.
One shaped like a bolt of lightning that seemed to have been branded into Harry's left eye; even the Heal All Wounds spell wouldn't be able to undo this one – Ravenwood knew a branding when he saw one and this was a Non-Magical one, not a Wizard one.
"Don't be afraid, little one…I promise you; nobody will ever hurt you again…I, Magnus Ravenwood, solemnly swear it in the name of Libra!"
Another wave of his wand freed Harry from his bonds, before Magnus Ravenwood held the child in his arms, tucking the cloak he'd conjured around the frail boy as he turned and walked out of the cell.
Seconds later, said cell burst into black fire, consuming everything inside it.
Chapter 2 and, wow, talk about sheer dumb luck striking again: Harry has been freed from his bonds and, now, he seems to be in the care of a mysterious new guardian, but who is Magnus Ravenwood and what does he want with the now-broken Boy-Who-Lived?
Also, with some wounds healed, and others waiting to spew forth and drown the world in fire, what will this mean for Harry's future?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry is introduced, properly, to his saviour, who has a rather-interesting offer for him: however, it looks like the constant torture, as well as being drawn closer to death than any child should be, has left a scar of a different kind on Harry…and this one can't be seen because, as a certain old coot would say, it lives in his very skin…and even deeper-still!
Please Read and Review
OC SPELLS
Sana Omnia Vulnera: Heal All Wounds Curse: Forces the body to heal from all damages committed; can only be reversed by the caster: any damage done to the body, even if dissected, is also felt by the victim, as new skin/organs/bones heal
(The above spell was originally created by my good friend, Winged Seer Wolf, whom I give all due credit to for creating the curse)
Vulnera Malefica: Augmented Mutilation Curse: Any and all pains suffered by the victim while this enchantment is cast upon them will be increased by a thousand-fold
Vitus Glacien Malefica: The Frozen Life Curse: Those afflicted by this curse cannot die, no matter what is done to them, until the counter curse is cast;
AN: Portrayals
Magnus Ravenwood: Neal McDonough
Alexander: Mark Pellegrino
Phineas Umbridge: Christopher Heyerdahl
AN2: Magnus
Also, Magnus Ravenwood is an OC that was actually originally created by an old friend of mine whom is no longer on this site;
ArlyssTolero
I don't know if the member will ever come back to the site or read this story in their spare time, but, either way, I hope they won't mind me using this as a sort of tribute/homage to a friend who had a real talent for writing cold, ruthless Harry fics – among others, some of which were sadly abandoned and cut down because of negative nancies out there;
AN3: Libra
Finally, the mention of Libra is an idea that was originally created by my good friend, JustBored21, whom created the organisation for their story, Damaged Raven.
Admittedly, I'm putting my own spin on it, but, when I once came up with the original idea sometime ago, I asked and received my friend's permission to use Libra as the origins of the newer, crazier, unhinged Harry that is still going to be around in this story.
Anyway, all creative rights to my friend and, if you haven't read that story, or any of JB's work, I strongly recommend you do…