A/N: Today is my birthday. I'm fifteen now. But I am posting for all of you and ignoring everything else. Therefore all of you must review. Without exception. As a birthday present. I don't care if you don't say anything but "it sucked". Or like so many reviews I get, everything is spelled wrong and you just don't know what grammar is. (I love those reviews, though, honest! I love all reviews) Just review. Please.

Oh yeah, and somehow everyone thinks this story is over. It really isn't. It's close to being done, very close, but not yet.

Thank you to the one and only person that listened to me and voted: Chibi Venusmoon. Thank you very much. (cough hint hint cough to everyone else) I need your votes! Yes if you want a sequel, no if you don't. Simple.

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Harry opened his mouth to reply, and then ended the word he had begun to say on a high, surprised shriek as he flew rapidly up to the ceiling, where he hit it with a dull thud, and remained floating there. He scrambled for a foot hold, a hand hold, anything to hold onto, nails scratching against the hard of the stone walls. "Let me down! What the fuck are you – "

"It's part of the process, Harry," I explained, as Hades and I slowly ascended to where Harry was still twisting madly in the air, helplessly trying anything he could to get down. We were on a platform of simple stone, much like the floor below us. It doesn't matter what it looks like, it's not even real. Hades made it, and until the next time we need it, it will only be here for this particular torture. You see, you can't do things to people when they're on the ceiling, and you're on the floor, not if you don't have Hades and you want up close and personal fun.

"Hold still," I said. Which, of course, made Harry flail around even more desperately, trying to keep me in sight and get down at the same time.

Hades simply fixed him with his gaze, and his feet were planted firmly on the ceiling, while he immediately went still. Still awake, still could feel everything, very aware, just nice and still.

"What did you do?" Harry said, hair hanging down towards the floor, able to move his head, and trying to look at us. Hades whipped out a small red potion, uncorked it, and dumped it in Harry's mouth as he was still talking, all in one blurred movement.

Harry choked, and some of the potion spilled out, because it's hard to swallow upside down. But he did swallow: miracles did happen.

"It's just so the blood flows normally," I explained. "And doesn't rush to your head."

"What – what are you going to do?" Harry asked, and it took him two tries to even talk. I had the long, wicked looking nail held between two fingers, and a hammer in the other. I must add at this point that the ceiling may be stone, but because we need it to, nails and such will go through it as though it were wood.

I didn't bother answering him, just positioned the nail at his bare feet, and gave the nail's head an almost delicate touch with the hammer, sending in just into the flesh.

"Oh," he whispered. "That."

"Ever the brave one," I said fondly, and drove the nail in all the way. It was a wet, meaty crunching sound as the iron nail went through bone and flesh, and blood spattered onto our platform, gravity sucking it down.

"Seems a shame to waste all of this blood," I said sadly, and handed the hammer to Hades. Harry was biting his lip so hard that blood was running down into his eyes. How brave. Not a sound to be made.

Hades' long human fingers grew into their more natural form of long, deadly black claws. He rested one of those sharp claws on Harry's opposite foot, pausing to let Harry know what was going to happen. Harry's eyes sprung open and he twisted in the air, uselessly trying to get away. What is it about the human race? Even when they have no hope of escape, they do all they can to get away, even if it just makes things worse.

Hades slowly, ever so slowly, twisted his claw into the flesh, and I heard the bone bow beneath him, and then snap like a twig. Harry shut his eyes as tightly as they would go, teeth clenched together. Wiggling that now thickened claw in the hole, stroking the bare nerves. A small sound escaped Harry, despite his attempts to remain silent. Hades drove the claw through his foot, and into the ceiling beneath and Harry shrieked. Hades put the slim nail in the crooked tunnel made for it, and shoved it in with a push of his clawed hand. We nailed several more nails in each foot, to ensure he didn't fall. Because, while if he fell, most of his feet would stay on the ceiling and he'd break some bones, we had a plan, and we had to stick to it. After, maybe.

Harry was hugging himself with one arm, the other dangling uselessly. His head was tucked into his neck, and he was shivering, and not just with cold.

I grabbed his disconnected arm, (his right arm) and slapped it against the stone wall, which could now have things stuck in it. It had awkwardly hung at a strange angle before, which made me think it was probably broken. It was now stretched across his chest, bent the wrong way, and held by me against the wall.

Harry gasped as I did this, a gasp that was more of a dry sob than anything. "Hand me anything, Hades," I asked, unable to take my eyes off of Harry's face. It was contorted again, but there was also a hint of dark pleasure deep within his eyes again. He stared at me out of those dark filled eyes, and a small smile lit up his face.

"Breakthrough, Hades," I said quietly, all my attention on his face, though my hand was still held out for a weapon from Hades. Hades crouched down, and I followed him, to get a better look at his face.

The smile has been stubbornly erased, but there was a darkness swimming just below the jade green glare of his eyes that he had been unable to destroy completely.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME!" He swung back and forth, shaking his head, trying to go somewhere that didn't exist. "GET AWAY!"

I stood at the same time with Hades, and we faced each other, grinning like the maniacs we are. We knew what this meant.

This meant that Harry Potter had simply built his walls so high, so thick, that no one would ever see whatever he was trying to hide. And he had done a damn good job, actually. Too bad we were going to fuck it all to Hell.

It meant that torture was what it took to get to the good stuff behind all that light. It meant when we were done, we'd have the real Harry Potter, and we were going to love it.

Which meant we had better get to work because I wanted to see what he would be like after all of our fun.

And so, that was how our lovely Harry Potter ended up in a really fascinating position hanging from our ceiling. He had a lovely little silver dagger stuck in each knuckle in his right hand, and a large butcher knife below the knuckles. That arm was bent at a very pretty angle that would have been impossible with an arm that was not broken in seven different places, and was barely stuck to the wall with a meat cleaver artfully thrown by Hades.

His left arm was twisted under and around his right, and stretched to the corner, stuck by one, large, purposefully blunt broadsword. There was a long, thick ancient sword in perfect condition that was stuck through Harry's stomach, impaling him to the wall. Though "stuck" is not quite the word for it. It was dipped in and out of his stomach, much like a thread that had been sewed into a piece of cloth. Human bodies are not meant to be twisted and bent like Harry's was, and that alone must have hurt like a bitch. Salt and lemon juice had been sprinkled…well, poured more like, into the wounds. Only this time, not sewn up.

Various other sharps… swords, daggers, knives of all kinds, more meat cleavers, fillet knives, butcher knives, needles, tacks, throwing knives, and tons more, had been stuck into Harry. Some went in one side and came out the other. Some of the stronger blades had pierced through bones, and bones themselves stuck out of his skin, split and gleaming white with blood trailing down them.

There had been so much blood that for a long time, Hades and I had gone back down to the floor, craned their necks upward, and ran around like children catching snowflakes on their tongues. Except it wasn't snow, it was blood, and it tasted a thousand times better than melted water, especially to the music of Harry's screams. We took turns catching the blood and torturing, of course. But really, would you have let all that scrumptious blood go to waste?

Then after almost all the blood was caught, we rubbed in some salt and lemon juice, which we hadn't put on before because it would mar the taste of Harry's blood.

After we were finished, we let Harry enjoy himself up there and we had some fun. If there is a better aphrodisiac than Harry's blood and torture, I have never heard of it.

Several hours later, covered in blood and cuts, (and we'd had to go get some new pants, what was the point of wearing a shirt? as they had gotten ripped apart) we realized that we needed to finish the torture. After all, people that could even manage to survive torture (well, not with us) couldn't survive rape.

Level with him once again on the platform, we studied him. It really was a beautiful sight. But was he broken yet? Maybe. Well, it's not like the word "overkill" exists in our vocabulary anyhow.

Harry's head was the only thing that had gone untouched. Blood had dripped into his eyes and stained his face. His black hair was stiff with it. He looked at us, and even through all the dried blood, you could see the faint trails where tears had poured down his face. He looked at us with eyes that had that look that people get when they go through enough pain and trauma that they don't know how to feel. Those green eyes stared at us, and moved, but they were so blank that you could stare at them for hours and never know what went on in his head. He was in shock.

Hades stared at Harry in a way that made me smile.

Hades never turned to face me, just said, "He smells so sinfully delicious. Look at him, Draco, just look at him."

I didn't have to look down to know that Hades was more than ready to fuck him.

One by one we plucked the weapons out, but Harry only twitched in response. If he felt anything, it was very distantly, from wherever he was now. When everything was out, Hades held his mutilated body in his arms, and stared at him.

And so, we gave him more potions: One to restore all of his blood to him just the way it was, (without removing it from the floor or anywhere else) one to make sure he's not in shock when Hades fucks him, that he's fully aware and just as scared as he would be as though nothing had happened, without repairing the damage done, one to repair the physical wounds, at least for now.

And before our eyes, Harry limply lay in Hades' arms, simple jeans whole, blood gone, lemon juice and salt gone, pale and untouched once again. Except for the original salt wound. That would never leave him. Not yet, at least.

Next his mental state healed. And by healed, I don't mean undoing the careful work we have done, I mean, temporarily making it so he'll be back to "normal" while he's raped, so he's nice and awake and screaming. He looked back, and his personality, his opinions, his fears, everything that made Harry, Harry, came flooding back. He shoved at Hades and stood on his own two, now whole, feet.

He held his head as though it hurt. "You did your damage, let me go." He seemed eerily calm and composed. We could cure that.

"It's only just begun," Hades said, snatching Harry, who yelped, and jumped the thirty feet + down to the floor. Harry shrieked all the way down, as the floor rushed up beneath him. And if you think only girls shriek and scream, you don't know what you're talking about.

Of course, part of that screaming was the previous potion. Remember? Allows him to see Hades in all his glory, and be scared shitless. Because he sees the darkness that is also Hades, unmasked and unmarred by beauty. Some people can be comforted by beauty when scared, or by lust. And so, Harry could now see what really makes up Hades. No, it isn't ugly, it just happens to make people piss themselves in terror.

Hades rolled with Harry, as Harry tried and failed to run away, ending with Hades on top, lower body pinning him to the ground, a hand on either side of him in a sort of half push-up.

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A/N: I'm sorry! I didn't mean to have a cliffy, I swear, but the next scenes are kind of long and I wanted to put that in one chapter if I could, as there are people who might be triggered, offended, horrified, I don't know, I don't know all of you personally and your own fears and what bothers you and what doesn't, by what will now be in the next chapter.

Yes, and some reviews don't have the reply option, so if I reply to you in this story, it's not because I'm showing what you said or what I said to the world, it's because I can't reply to you otherwise. And don't suggest email or IMing because I really mean it when I say I don't have the time. Review, please!