The Ultimatum
By: Yaoi...A Way Of Life –AKA- Genia Grier
Warnings: Dark! Harry, Idiotic! Dursleys, and more...
Chapter Two: Same Old Same
Water and soap. I've come to hate the mixture. For the past three weeks, since the summer began, all I've been doing is scrubbing this ruddy linoleum floor. No time for food, no time for sleep. Just work, work, work, and more work. You would think with all of the free labor the Dursleys get that they would miss me when I went off to Hogwarts every September. God forbid Dudley would get on his hands and knees and be degraded as I have. No, I am the laborer in this family. Even uncle Vernon doesn't work as hard as I do. His workday is full of standing around screaming at people and firing them if they have qualms about the way he runs the drill company. At least that's what he tells aunt Petunia when she asks him how his day went.
I've been coming to hate the fact that I live with these disgusting muggles. I'm starting to see the reason why Tom wants to obliterate all of them. The world would be better off with out them mucking it up with their blind hatred of any thing out of the ordinary. I, myself could visualize a perfect world beginning with the vociferous screams of Vernon as the Crutacius is cast on him several times before the blood that erupts from his screech torn esophagus over flows from his fat pudgy lips and spills over onto his...
The water in the rag that was held in Harry's hand began to splash over his hand as he squeezed the piece of cloth in a death grip. Harry began to realize this and blinked. Ending constructed death of his uncle, Harry proceeded to finish his chores in silence. The day wasn't ending fast enough for him. His load of chores stretched out in front of him like the Sahara desert.
Threatening, foreboding, and never ending. There was always more to do every day.
The amount was over loading his mind and making him think crazed things. The fact that he hasn't eaten, bathed, or slept in several days wasn't helping matters either.
Sometimes Harry really wished someone cared enough to get him away from this place. Obviously after all his wishing his prayers still haven't been answered. Dumbledore, Sirius, the Weasley's, anyone, would be highly appreciated at this moment. Even Voldemort.
Finishing up with the floor, Harry poured out the gray, dirt filled water, and squeezed out the excess water from the cloths he used. Looking around for the broom, Harry's eyes switched over the face of the counter top clock. Being up at 3:00 ion the morning was beginning to not surprise the young man anymore. This daily routine of waking up early in the morning, basically the crack of dawn, and starting the breakfast for the Dursley's was normal. Then going to bed two only four hours before that wasn't out of the ordinary either...at least for the summer hols.
Finally finishing with the hallway, and putting away the dust shovel and broom, Harry trudged his way up the stair to his bedroom. Not caring about the fact that he left the lights on downstairs. He was always the first up and the first to bed, they would never find out. Knowing that the door consisting of a variety of dead bolts furnishing the door was his destination, Harry walked a little faster in hopes of making it there with out passing out from exhaustion in the hallway.
He hoped over the creaking floorboard before pushing into his restricted space of a room. Looking around for his candle, which he used for light, a furry thing bombarded him with a fierceness Harry never knew a creature that small could draw on.
Finally capturing what seemed to be an owl, Harry tore at its legs to retrieve the letter that was attached to the nocturnes clawed foot.
The front of the expensive looking parchment was:
To: Mr. Harry J. Potter
From: An Admirer
In a dark velvety looking red ink.
'Could be blood' Harry thought sardonically.
The letter seemed to be lengthy from the way the weight of it. Harry began to tear open the seal thinking the worst was to come from within.
If you are reading this, that bane of all nocturnal beings has found it's way to you. I as stated on the envelope am your loyal admirer. As much as I detest that title, for lack of a better word I must use it. We've met before though you may not be able to place where. Though we may not be in constant close quarters of each other, I've been watching you. Mainly because of certain circumstances, I cannot blatantly confront you with my desires. This I would like to remedy in good time.
You're a divine being Mr. Potter. Alas I am not talking of your several escapes from the clutches of Voldemort and his lackeys. You're extraordinary in ways that cannot be put in any simple or graceful terms. I've come to adore your reddened lips. Your raven black locks. The timeless cream pallor of your skin. At times I find myself fantasizing of how your pale tone would look against my alabaster one. You're a sight to behold Mr. Potter, and cherish, and worship.
With me, this is what you would receive: A lifetime of luxury. A time in which I would teach you all there is to know about the carnal pleasures of the flesh. Yes, Mr. Potter I know you haven't experienced this type of interaction. I can see it in those expressional olive orbs of yours. If eyes are the windows to the soul, then you Mr. Potter are in great danger. For you have the eyes of one so innocent that those who want to hurt you could easily gain access to your deepest desires. Hence my extremely apparent interest in you. I don't expect you to reply to me with a letter declaring your undying love to me. I would just like to be aware of how your feeling right now, at this very moment. I await your reply
Your Admirer
'How do I feel at this exact moment?' Harry thought, 'Well I have a bloody hard on. I'm think I feel pretty damn incredible.' The boy thought smiling from ear to ear with an endearing glazed look in his eyes.
By: Yaoi...A Way Of Life –AKA- Genia Grier
Warnings: Dark! Harry, Idiotic! Dursleys, and more...
Chapter Two: Same Old Same
Water and soap. I've come to hate the mixture. For the past three weeks, since the summer began, all I've been doing is scrubbing this ruddy linoleum floor. No time for food, no time for sleep. Just work, work, work, and more work. You would think with all of the free labor the Dursleys get that they would miss me when I went off to Hogwarts every September. God forbid Dudley would get on his hands and knees and be degraded as I have. No, I am the laborer in this family. Even uncle Vernon doesn't work as hard as I do. His workday is full of standing around screaming at people and firing them if they have qualms about the way he runs the drill company. At least that's what he tells aunt Petunia when she asks him how his day went.
I've been coming to hate the fact that I live with these disgusting muggles. I'm starting to see the reason why Tom wants to obliterate all of them. The world would be better off with out them mucking it up with their blind hatred of any thing out of the ordinary. I, myself could visualize a perfect world beginning with the vociferous screams of Vernon as the Crutacius is cast on him several times before the blood that erupts from his screech torn esophagus over flows from his fat pudgy lips and spills over onto his...
The water in the rag that was held in Harry's hand began to splash over his hand as he squeezed the piece of cloth in a death grip. Harry began to realize this and blinked. Ending constructed death of his uncle, Harry proceeded to finish his chores in silence. The day wasn't ending fast enough for him. His load of chores stretched out in front of him like the Sahara desert.
Threatening, foreboding, and never ending. There was always more to do every day.
The amount was over loading his mind and making him think crazed things. The fact that he hasn't eaten, bathed, or slept in several days wasn't helping matters either.
Sometimes Harry really wished someone cared enough to get him away from this place. Obviously after all his wishing his prayers still haven't been answered. Dumbledore, Sirius, the Weasley's, anyone, would be highly appreciated at this moment. Even Voldemort.
Finishing up with the floor, Harry poured out the gray, dirt filled water, and squeezed out the excess water from the cloths he used. Looking around for the broom, Harry's eyes switched over the face of the counter top clock. Being up at 3:00 ion the morning was beginning to not surprise the young man anymore. This daily routine of waking up early in the morning, basically the crack of dawn, and starting the breakfast for the Dursley's was normal. Then going to bed two only four hours before that wasn't out of the ordinary either...at least for the summer hols.
Finally finishing with the hallway, and putting away the dust shovel and broom, Harry trudged his way up the stair to his bedroom. Not caring about the fact that he left the lights on downstairs. He was always the first up and the first to bed, they would never find out. Knowing that the door consisting of a variety of dead bolts furnishing the door was his destination, Harry walked a little faster in hopes of making it there with out passing out from exhaustion in the hallway.
He hoped over the creaking floorboard before pushing into his restricted space of a room. Looking around for his candle, which he used for light, a furry thing bombarded him with a fierceness Harry never knew a creature that small could draw on.
Finally capturing what seemed to be an owl, Harry tore at its legs to retrieve the letter that was attached to the nocturnes clawed foot.
The front of the expensive looking parchment was:
To: Mr. Harry J. Potter
From: An Admirer
In a dark velvety looking red ink.
'Could be blood' Harry thought sardonically.
The letter seemed to be lengthy from the way the weight of it. Harry began to tear open the seal thinking the worst was to come from within.
If you are reading this, that bane of all nocturnal beings has found it's way to you. I as stated on the envelope am your loyal admirer. As much as I detest that title, for lack of a better word I must use it. We've met before though you may not be able to place where. Though we may not be in constant close quarters of each other, I've been watching you. Mainly because of certain circumstances, I cannot blatantly confront you with my desires. This I would like to remedy in good time.
You're a divine being Mr. Potter. Alas I am not talking of your several escapes from the clutches of Voldemort and his lackeys. You're extraordinary in ways that cannot be put in any simple or graceful terms. I've come to adore your reddened lips. Your raven black locks. The timeless cream pallor of your skin. At times I find myself fantasizing of how your pale tone would look against my alabaster one. You're a sight to behold Mr. Potter, and cherish, and worship.
With me, this is what you would receive: A lifetime of luxury. A time in which I would teach you all there is to know about the carnal pleasures of the flesh. Yes, Mr. Potter I know you haven't experienced this type of interaction. I can see it in those expressional olive orbs of yours. If eyes are the windows to the soul, then you Mr. Potter are in great danger. For you have the eyes of one so innocent that those who want to hurt you could easily gain access to your deepest desires. Hence my extremely apparent interest in you. I don't expect you to reply to me with a letter declaring your undying love to me. I would just like to be aware of how your feeling right now, at this very moment. I await your reply
Your Admirer
'How do I feel at this exact moment?' Harry thought, 'Well I have a bloody hard on. I'm think I feel pretty damn incredible.' The boy thought smiling from ear to ear with an endearing glazed look in his eyes.