Author's Notes: WARNING!!! EXPLICIT ABUSE SCENES!!! MAJOR RAPE SCENE COMING UP!!! ESCAPE WHILE YOU CAN!!! (A/N Bwahahaha!!! I specialize in traumatizing lil' kids)
Thank you to all those who reviewed!!! ^.^Some comments…
Son of Evil – Adopt? ADOPT?! *incredulous look* Um…have you been reading my warnings? This is a Harry/Severus SLASH pairing…which means a gay relationship, as in two guys together in that way in case you don't know. I won't blame you if you want to leave now…just don't flame me…make sure you read the warnings next time…
Saavik – You mean the previous few chapters wasn't enough? Haahaa…then this chapter should be able to satisfy you…I hope…
The Dragon Faerie – Severus will be up in the next chapter…when I actually decide to update…*lol*…It'll be faster with more reviews *hint hint*
Quote from some anonymous reviewer: 'Do we really need three straight chapters of abuse to get the point across?'
Answer: Not really, I just want Harry to suffer a little before Sev patches him up…skip this chapter if you don't want to read about the abuse…
A Fallen AngelBy chibi_tenshi
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………
It seemed like luck was just not on his side that day. Vernon came home in a terrible temper, yelling out a loud "BOY!" before stomping into the kitchen where Harry was cooking dinner. He then proceeded to haul him by his collar, pulling him away from the stove, not caring about how the pork chops in the pan splutter at being so roughly handled, nor about how Harry scorched himself when he (Harry) dropped the ladle into the oil-filled pan and caused the oil to splash up onto his hand.
"I thought I told you to repaint the garage boy, and the fences. Since when did you see fit to disobey my orders? How dare you display this bout of disobedience? Last night wasn't a good enough lesson was it?" Vernon screeched out his ire as he backhanded Harry across the room. "That'll teach you to do as I tell you to!" He undid his buckles, and, belt in hand, began to work off his anger by furiously whipping all the bare, unprotected skin he could find on Harry's body, a smirk forming on his face as he looked on proudly at the red welts starting to form. He kicked as hard as he could, repeatedly, on the small, cowering frame, his evil grin growing wider by the minute as he felt the delicious crunch of bones beneath his foot. He continued this tirade for several minutes before sitting down beside the dining table, his breath coming in sharp pants though a satisfied smile graced his lips.
Harry laid still for some moments, trying to calm his palpitating heart as the pain kicked in once his disconnected mind decided to wander back into his body. He suppressed the wince, stopping the cry of pain that was threatening to escape from the depths of his throat, unwilling to give his uncle any more pleasure from this 'sport' than he was already getting at the moment.
Once the pain had somewhat numbed a little, he slowly dragged himself off the floor, returning to the sizzling pork that was slowly, but surely, getting burnt to a crisp. A distant, detached part of his brain was telling him that he was really going to get it from his aunt as he scooped up the piece of meat to place it onto a plate, careful not to jar his wrist, which appeared to be sprained.
Dudley, who had been drawn away from his video games by the commotion, was sneering at him from the doorway, a cruel glint lighting up his piggy eyes the whole time throughout the whipping. His sadistic smirk had lit up even further as he screamed in that whiny voice of his, "MUM! HARRY RUINED THE DINNER!"
Petunia swept into the kitchen so quickly that it almost seemed as if she had Apparated. She didn't even glance at the plate of meat before striking Harry across his left cheek, not really caring if it left a mark. It could be easily explained with the normal excuses (i.e. walked into the door, fell down the stairs, etc), as long as it wasn't too obvious. She continued screeching like the old hag she was, making some strategic hits on Harry's abdomen and torso before Harry could gather his wits together to huddle up and protect his major organs.
A few well placed insults ("You good for nothing brat! You're nothing but a burden to others!", "We feed you, cloth you and give you a place to live in, and this is how you repay us?!"…) made him plunge even deeper into the depression he was already in, the whispery voices in his head getting even louder and more persistent.
'You are nothing but a burden you know? You only bring death to people around you. Look at your parents, or Cedric…they wouldn't have died if you didn't exist in the first place…they died because of you…'
'B-but…I…I didn't mean to…I didn't know! Dumbledore said that Voldemort would still go after my parents, simply because they were working against him…it-it has nothing to do with me………does it?'
'Ah…but don't you remember? Voldemort was willing to spare your mother…she died to save you. And Cedric…you told him to take the cup together…you had put your hand in killing him too. And all the innocents involved in the soon-to-be-happening war…all those muggles and muggle-borns…their lives are in danger because your blood resurrected Voldemort…and you still think you have nothing to do with it?'
"…"
"It's all you fault, Harry, and you know it!"
"All my fault…I killed them…I helped to revive the Dark Lord…it's all my fault…"
A jerk from his aunt wrenched him out of his reverie. He tried to will his head to stop hurting, to stop his surroundings from swirling around in a messy blend of colors in front of him. He caught a few words from his aunt – "go…bedroom…no dinner…stay there…tomorrow…" – before he felt himself being shoved out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
He collapsed into his bed the moment he entered his bedroom, weeping his heart out, unable to keep his tears in any longer. He had pressed a pillow over his head to muffle his sobs, knowing that disturbing the Dursleys would mean the beginnings of yet another thrashing. He attempted to cry away his despair, the guilt he felt pertaining to Cedric's death, his helplessness in the hands of what was left of his relatives, and the nausea he experienced whenever he thought about his nightmares and Voldemort's victims. He could not help but feel that he deserved this torment, simply because he was responsible for all that had happened, for the Dark Lord's rise back to power, and the pain, torture and death it was sure to bring.
It was a while before he finally cried himself to sleep, only to be plagued by nightmares of Cedric Diggory and the horrible visions of Voldemort's muggle-extermination campaign…
(A/N I thought it would sound better if the rest of the chapter was in first person format…gives it more of a realistic feel I think…)
/Dream/
A pungent smell whiffed up to me. I crumpled my nose in distaste. It was the smell of pain, the smell of fear…the metallic smell of blood, the nauseating smell vomit…the acrid smell of burnt plastic…and so much more. The scene in front of me was one of utter chaos…of total pandemonium. People, muggles I believe, were running about like headless chickens with no sense of direction whatsoever. There was no one keeping order…each for their own, fighting for their own survival.
'Berners Street', I read from the sign I spotted just a little way in front of me. It took me a while to register this to be a street in London from what little I remembered from my geography class in 4th grade. (A/N I've no idea if this street even exists…and if it does, I don't know what it's like…) I walked down the path I was on, all the while wondering about what had happened here…
Suddenly, I caught a flash of black just to my right, and being innately inquisitive, I followed it………and came to a stop at the sight of black-hooded figures standing in front of a multi-storey flat, one of whom had its wand pointed at a teenaged blond lady, holding her in a full body bind while the others had their way with her. Repulsed at what I was seeing, I quickly turned away, only to see some more of those figures torturing an old man with the Cruciatus.
It seemed as if no matter where I turned, I would be forced to witness various acts of torture and murder. The air was saturated with screams of agony, torment and anguish, drowning me with its intensity.
I reached for my wand, pulling it out from my robes, a part of me vaguely surprised that I was wearing robes instead of muggle clothes, though I can't exactly remember why. I pointed my wand at one of the dark, towering figures, shouting out a Stunning spell as loud as I could in a desperate attempt to block out the screams from my throbbing head.
I was shocked as my spell went straight through the figure and dissipated into thin air. I tried again and again, using all kinds of curses and hexes I could recall, but none of them worked. I started to get frantic, beginning to look around to see if any aid has arrived.
'Why wouldn't anyone help?' I thought desperately. 'Where are the aurors? The hit wizards? Or whoever's supposed to keep the Deatheaters in line? Why isn't anyone helping them?!'
I felt totally useless, standing there and looking on at this massacre, and yet being unable to be of any assistance. Being a passive onlooker was wrecking havoc in my system as I watched on, growing more and more distressed as the screams went on.
Cries for help filled the air…blood splattered on the floor…flames merrily licking the curtains at an open window… tears of pain flowed freely down the faces of tortured victims…an explosion nearby knocked me off my feet…
/End Dream/
And I woke up, finding myself on the floor across the room from my bed. I opened my bleary eyes, blinking a little while trying to adjust to the blurry view, not that I could see without my glasses, which I indistinctly remembered having left on my dressing table before I toppled into my bed.
Looking up, I could see a big, burly figure standing at the other side of my bed. Though the edges and outlines look a bit fuzzy, I could make him out to be my uncle. He moved around the bed and came towards me, his gait seeming to be a little…unsteady. As he neared, my nose picked up a smell that had became familiar to me over the period of my adolescence…the thick, overpowering smell of beer…
'No! No! NO! Not again! Please! God help me!' I thought, repeating this mantra silently in my mind even as I maintained my outwardly impassive look. Uncle Vernon just threw a drunken grin at me (at least, I think he did, I couldn't see well without my glasses), picking me up and dumping me on the bed.
He pulled my arms above my head, chaining my wrists to the bedpost. Then he moved down to chain my legs too. It seemed like god had decided to go on a vacation at Disneyland today…
He went to the small, non-descript table at the corner, pausing a while before he reached over and picked up a ornate dagger, pulling the sharp-looking blade from it's sheath and holding it out to the faint ray of light that filtered from the streetlights through the bars.
He stalked back to me, the polished dagger twinkling innocently in his hand. I could almost imagine the crazed glint in his eyes as he traced the dagger down across my face, drawing a little blood as it went past my throat, before it ended up just above the neck of my t-shirt.
I shut my eyes, squeezing them tightly to prevent my tears from escaping. Nonetheless, I didn't struggle. I knew it was useless, especially with the chains on. I have tried…believe me, I had. It hadn't helped. All it did was to prolong process. He loved it when I fought back…and it gave him a reason to hit me afterwards.
I heard the sound of tearing cloth, felt my shirt being yanked roughly away from my body once he'd finished shredding it. I shivered when the cool night breeze hit my body as the shirt was probably thrown haphazardly across the room.
'Stop it please! Help me! Somebody…anybody! Please…make him stop! Please……'
I distanced myself from this, dislocating my conscious thoughts from the rest of me, just as I did so many times when I was a kid, when I didn't want to remember what he was doing to me. It always came back in the end though, after he'd left…always…
Somewhere in my mind, I registered my pants being torn away…I registered his mouth attach to mine as he forced my lips open, plunging his vile tongue down my throat…I registered the acute pain that raced up my spine as he roughly thrust into me, as I was ripped apart, piece by piece, from the inside…I registered how much my chest ached as he decorated it with nonsensical swirls with his dagger while he pounded brutally into me…I registered his hand running all around my body, pinching, smacking, pulling whatever he could to leave his mark…
All these seemed be continue as a blur, continuing for what appeared to be an eternity before he finally climaxed, spilling torrents of his seed into me…I feel dirty…
"Stop messing with my job………jinx………serves you right………" was all I heard from his slur before he released me from the restraints and exited the room.
I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging my legs as I wept silently. I feel dirty. I want to brush my teeth with at least two tubes of Darlie toothpaste. I want to run into the bathroom and soak myself into a bathtub full of nice, warm water. I want to scrub away the filth, scrub till my skin is raw and bleeding. I want to scratch away the contaminated skin that had been touched by him. I want…I want…I just want to drop dead…to get away from this hell I'm living in…but I know I deserve it…I deserve to suffer…I bring death and destruction at my wake…it's only right that I pay for all that I'd done…
Yay!!! It's done!!! I hope it's ok…did I make you cry? Please please please…tell me I did! Bwahahahaha! It's the evil side of me at work again. Anyway, this would probably be the end of the Harry-torture, since someone told me that this is getting old, and because I'm tired of trying not to repeat myself in between the scenes…*grins*
OK…enough of my mindless pattering…please REVIEW and tell me what you think about it ok? Pretty please with sugar on top? I promise I'll put Sev in the next chapter! I know you're all dying to see him again! So, review, make me happy, and I'll put up the next chapter for you…*smiles sweetly*…I'm aiming for 200 by the way, so help me ^.^
P.S. if anyone bothers to read this, could someone please help me find a good English-Latin translation site? I've been trying for hours and all the sites I went to were crap! *argh!* I need this for some other fics I'm working on…I'll probably post them after I finish 'A Fallen Angel'. So…can any kind soul please help me? Thanks a lot in advance!!!
