Author's notes: SORRY PPLE!!! I'm sorry I took sooooo long to update…it was *looks at watch* ten days since the previous chapter…*oops*…I've been busy…going out at 8am and coming back at 6pm…and I was trying to get the next few chapters out to, just to make sure that it flows…
Anyway, Sev would be coming out soon…probably in chapter 12…
There'll be ABUSE scenes in this chapter…not too graphic as compared to the next few chapters I'm going to write, but it's enough to make those weak-hearted people want to hurl. So please…don't read if you can't take it…I really don't want more flames on my sadistic outlook…
Thanks to all the people who reviewed ^.^
poodle power – you'll have to wait for that…Harry have to get over plenty of issues first…I hardly think a rape victim and go for sex that fast. As for Sev, I don't think he's the type that would initiate the 'debauching' of a student…
kat – nah-uh…if not, I think I'm sick too…bwahahaha…don't you just love abuse scenes?
aurors – I'm afraid that Sev didn't get to do anything besides scaring the heck off them. He was too busy fussing about Harry's condition. By the time he remembered about revenge, the Dursleys were already detained in the Child Protection Council (for those that asked before, it's the wizarding world's council)…
Selina – I'll probably come back to that by chapter 12 *crosses fingers*
Breve – Riiiiight…I advise you not to read this chapter then…it's almost as bad as the previous one. Besides, I've read worse abuse scenes than this, and I happen to enjoy them, so…(I know, I'm a sadist, so sue me…)
A Fallen Angel
By chibi-tenshi
/Dream/
Harry squinted into the hazy darkness that seemed to surround him, unable to comprehend just where he was. He was afraid to take a step forward, afraid that he would lose his footing and plunge into the deep, empty abyss. He appeared to be immersed in nothingness, without any sense of direction.
Then, he felt a pull behind his navel, just as one would feel when traveling by portkey. The inky blackness seemed to fade away, and a bright light assaulted his eyes. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he made out a cottage in front of him, burning merrily under the lovely starlit sky.
He caught sight of some people in the cottage, looking helpless and terrified at what was happening to them. A toddler was wailing as he tried to snuggle against the woman behind him, though she was in no condition to comfort him. Black, hooded figures were standing outside, looking on with sick glee at what, to them, was a beautiful sight.
One of the figures pointed its wand at the woman, muttering something under his breath, sending the woman screaming in agony, clawing her body as if trying to distract herself from the pain, pushing the toddler away as she got lost in the waves of pain shot through her body. The man beside her could only watch as she suffered, looking as if he had no idea what the hell was going on. 'And he probably didn't too,' Harry thought as he saw that they were most likely muggles from the T-shirts and jeans they were wearing.
Harry himself was gritting his teeth as he felt the pain shoot through his body as it had the woman. He reached for his wand, wanting to help, only to find that it wasn't there. He ran desperately, closer to the scene, despite the fact that the saner part of him demanded for him to turn away and flee while it was possible. He sped up when he heard a clearly intoned "Crucio!", followed by the man's screams along with the woman.
He flung himself onto the nearest cloaked figure, only to find himself going right past it. He stared in confusion, still unable to comprehend what was going on as he attempted a swipe at the figure's wand, once again failing miserably. He fruitlessly tried to attract the attentions of the figures away from the family trapped in the cottage, hoping to give them time to escape.
He watched as the flames started to consume the people in the cottage, silently burning off skin and flesh, gradually sucking the lives out of its victims. He listened as the screams of anguish slowly died down, seeing the tears of torture sliding down the victims' faces before the fire devoured away the remaining evidences of life, leaving a pile of ashes at its wake.
A soft "Morsmordre" was whispered and a vast, green and glittery light shot out from amongst the figures and shaped itself into a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.
He could hear the sounds of the twisted laughter ring through the now still night air as he clenched his fists at the unfairness of this all, unaware of the tears trailing down his cheeks.
/End Dream/
His eyes opened as he awoke, his t-shirt drenched in cold sweat that dissolved some of the dried blood. He huddled into a small ball, clutching his legs as he began to sob, softly in fear of awakening the Dursleys, though he found himself wishing that the his uncle would come and beat this out of his system.
As his sniveling slowly subsided, he glanced up and saw small rays of sunlight filtering through the window bars. He checked on the small clock the Dursleys had left on the floor next to the bed. 7:23a.m. The Dursleys would be up soon. He struggled to sit up, ignoring his body's protest. He was still sore after yesterday's whipping.
Turning over, he sat on something hard. 'My photo album! And my cloak and wand!' (A/N you didn't think I would forget about these did you?) He was surprised that the Dursleys had not spotted it earlier, but concluded that they were having too much fun belting him. He got onto the floor to stuff his things under the loose floorboard and walked over to the dresser for a fresh change of clothes. (A/N Yes, there is one in the room. I didn't mention it because it was insignificant.)
As soon as he had finished changing, he heard a loud pounding at his door. "Get up Boy! Dudley needs his breakfast!" his aunt screeched through the door.
"Yes Aunt Petunia," he replied before dragging himself out of his room. "Don't you dare speak to me in that disrespectful tone Boy!" his aunt screeched into his ear, slapping him across the face. "You'd better not destroy the breakfast or you'll wish that we'd never set our sights on you!"
He walked sluggishly into the kitchen and turned on the stove, preparing for his family's breakfast, wincing slightly as he accidentally jolted his aching ribcage. He was finished with making toast and boiling some eggs, and was preparing to fry some bacon when his cousin casually sauntered in, stopping beside him to hit his head before plopping into the chairs on his side of the table.
Harry almost toppled over onto the stove at the force of the blow and had to hurriedly extinguish the flames eating his singed hair. Dudley only sniggered at his misfortune, leaning against the table and causing it to creak in protest at his weight. He had grown quite a bit since the last Harry saw him. Apparently, the Dursleys decided to forgo the diet, since it wasn't working, and his massive bottom was now spread out over two chairs and was still overflowing at the sides. His massive bulk was taking up a whole side of the dining table and his fat-filled face was even more scrunched up than ever.
Harry ignored his cousin's pig-like snorts with practiced ease and went on cooking the bacon. By now, his aunt and uncle had entered and were sat at opposite ends of the table. Vernon was reading the Business Times, his face steadily going more and more purple as he read on, making Harry wonder for a bit about what he was so incensed at before returning his attention to the sizzling bacon.
Dudley, annoyed that he had failed to get a response out of Harry, pursed his mouth as he plotted on another way to get Harry into trouble. His lips curled into a wicked sneer as he saw his chance. Just as Harry was scooping the bacon off the pan and placing it on his breakfast plate, he took a deep breath and let it all out in a bawl, "Daddy! Harry burnt my bacon!"
Vernon, riled up at the morning news, plus the fact that he really hated Harry, got up and struck his nephew at his head, savoring the relief that the brutal contact brought and continued venting his anger by means of punching, kicking and basically knocking the hell out of the cringing boy.
As for Harry, he pushed away the instinct to fight back, enduring the whole outburst in silence, a little voice at the back of his head saying, "You deserve this you know. After all, you helped with Voldemort's resurrection. You are the cause of Cedric's death, as well as the deaths of the thousands of people that would be killed because of the fact the Voldemort is back."
At long last, the beating stopped. A list was shoved under Harry's nose and Vernon's voice sprung up, "No breakfast for you today, and no lunch too. Finish all this before I get home from work today or you won't get your dinner either. I do not want a repeat of your incompetence. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes Uncle Vernon," was all Harry could force out as the Dursleys went back to their breakfast.
Not daring to stay on the floor any longer and risk his uncle's wrath again, he stood up, an excruciating task in itself, and proceeded to stare at the impossibly long list. (Clear away the breakfast utensils, weed and mow the garden, water the plants, spread fertilizer evenly over the yard, clean out the garage, repaint the garage door and the fence, sweep and mop the living room, wash the toilets…)
Knowing that he would never complete all of it in time, he settled for doing everything as fast as he could before his uncle's return, hoping against hope that it, by some miracle, would be able to soothe Vernon's anger…
Bwahahahaha…extreme abuse will be coming up in the next chapter…REVIEW if you want more of it! *lol*
