Escaping Darkness

By: Avidbooklover2001

(Warning: Story contains mentions of rape, pedophilia, extreme violence and gore, extreme language. Rated M for mature audiences.)

-Chapter 1-

The Clouds In The Sky

"Isn't he the most beautiful baby in the world?"

As I stood at the corner, at the very edge of the room, with a teddy bear tucked behind my arm, my big green eyes looked over at my parents as they stared at my new brother, Dudley. I was filled with hope and excitement. My three year old mind brought images to my head, depicting scenes filled with my brother and I playing games with my parents, my father teaching us how to ride a bike, my mother helping us with cuts and bruises, and on and on.

None of that ever happened. It's a shame. It's a shame my parents turned into snakes. It's a shame I found out they were venomous.

I remember the day my best friend caught me smoking. It wasn't such a big deal because after all, most of the teenagers in Hogwarts smoked or drank or "shot up." But to me, it was important. It was a breakthrough of reality, because it was the day my facade slipped. It was the day I let my best friend know how fucked up I truly was.

"Harry! Hey Harry, wait up."

I kept on walking. My feet thumped on the pavement as I tried to drown the sound of my best friend with the rest of the world.

"Harry!"

I felt his hand grab onto the hem of my shirt and tug, as he finally caught up. I came to a stop and looked at the clouds in the sky. Anywhere but his face. I couldn't bare to see his face full of contempt, of disappointment. I couldn't bare to see his face like the others.

"Harry, listen. I saw you smoking. It's okay, I'm sure it's not a big deal, right? I mean, lots of people smoke."

I sighed loudly and ran a hand through my hair. It's not everyday your 14 year old best friend catches you smoking in the boys bathroom of your magical school.

"Ya, I know, Ron." I mumbled. He didn't know that I had been smoking since I was 12. And he didn't need to know. I was fine. I was okay.

I drew my eyes upward and looked at him, my best friend since kindergarten- Ronald Weasley. He was short, the shortest boy in our grade, yet some of the girls thought he was cute… childish. I only saw him as my friend, the closest person I had I had to a real brother. He had red hair that was curly and lay on his head like a tangle of feathers. His eyes were a strange tone of blue, dark enough to be dangerous, yet bright enough to be warm.

Ron also had sickle cell disease,which meant that he got sick a lot and couldn't do a lot of stuff normal kids could do. He would get tired and really, really pale. The professor would sit him down in flying class, even if he begged them to ride the broom. Even if he did read about quidditch during the entire summer from a book he spent a year saving for. They didn't listen to him, because lawsuits were more important. He also wasn't going to live long. He used to joke around about it and say.

"Hey, Harry. When I'm dead and my wife get's lonely, you wouldn't mind keeping an eye on her right? I mean, not too close. 'Cause, if I'm up there in heaven, and I see you getting close with my honey, you bet your ass, I'm going to come the hell down and haunt you with all the ghostly power I got. You get me, Nik?"

It wasn't that funny but we would laugh just to ease the tension and the thought of him dying earlier than most people. Just becuase of some disease. But we were fine. He was fine.

He was American and so were his parents and the parents before that and on. His parents moved to England because his father wanted to learn about British wizards and muggles.

"Come on. We better get to class or we'll be late again." I said as I grabbed my book bag.

But I abruptly stopped and Ron stopped too, looking at me.

"Don't tell anyone.. about the smoking." I said and he nodded, agreeing to me.

This was going to be a tough year.

I raised my hand and tried to get Professor Snape's attention. My thoughts were going haywire as I kept on remembering the things I spent so hard trying to forget.

It was like I was stuck between the present and some harsh hell. I needed to get away. I needed to be lost.

Finally, Professor Snape recognized my desperation with a sneer and allowed me to go to the bathroom. I half ran, half slumped to the boys' bathroom as I quickly lit a cigarette with shaking hands. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out flask filled to the brim with hard liquor. I guzzled it down, ready to be lost. Ready to fly away. I sucked hard on the cigarette, waiting for the effects of the nicotine. I was so despair ridden and hungry for some sort of change in my thoughts that I failed to notice Ron leaning against one of the stalls in the back, staring at me with wide eyes, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"What are you doing, Harry? What's wrong?"

My head snapped to the side as I took in his alert form, confused and innocent.

"Nothing, Ron. I'm just so tired of this school. Why wait for the party when you can have one here, am I right?"

I used the manipulation tactics I was taught as a child to persuade him that nothing was wrong. But he knew me for far too long to underestimate me.

He sighed loudly and walked over, grabbing bottle from my hand and hesitantly closing it.

"You'll have to tell me what's going on sooner or later. I mean, I just found out you smoke an hour ago, and now I see you drinking? Harrison, you've got to tell me. Or if you don't, just stop, okay?"

I winced when he used my full name; he doesn't usually do that unless it's something very serious. I nodded just to please him and reached out to get my bottle back. I saw him shake his head but he still gave it back.

I mumbled my thanks and he walked away, leaving me with my poisons. After a few moments, I stubbed out the cancer stick and walked back to class, highly buzzed.

"Mister Potter, can you please answer the question?"

I wasn't paying attention to the teacher, let alone hear what he was saying.

Instead, I was zoned out. Lost in the whirlwind that alcohol gifted me with. I enjoyed it. Oh, yes. I enjoyed it so much.

I immediately snapped back into attention when I heard a bang on my desk as I shot up straight in my seat, eyes trained on the floor out of instinct… or training.

"Mister Potter!" admonished Professor Snape with a curled lip, as he put the ruler away.

"Yes, sir." I mumbled.

"I need you to pay attention. Please stay after class."

I cursed under my breath as he walked away and the lesson resumed. I had to portkey home right after the day's classes were finished in order to cook dinner for my family and sometimes I even ditched the last couple minutes just to make it in time. God knows what had happened when I was late.

It was five years ago from then. I was nine years old and in fourth grade, when it happened. When I finally understood that my father had no boundaries, but it's not like I expected less from the Kasparov Mafia Boss.

My muggle teacher, Miss Janet , wanted someone to help her clean the class and fix the chairs. I had a close relationship with her, since she was the closest person I had for a mother figure, so I foolishly volunteered. It took me close to ten minutes to do the task and I rushed outside only to find out that the bus had already left.

I wanted to cry from anxiety and trepidation. I knew I had to be on time to make dinner properly. I ran the five miles home, my spongebob backpack dangling off my shoulders and my too small shoes causing blisters to form on my feet. Tears were starting to form as my blond hair flopped on my face with every step. I finally arrived at the mansion and told Sfen to open the gates. He looked at me sympathetically, shook his head, as if disappointed, and said.

"Be safe, Harry." I nodded and ran inside.

I threw my backpack to the side and washed my hands. My fingers were shaking so badly the soap bar fell to the floor and I struggled to pick it up. Finally, I grabbed the steaks and seasoned them generously. I knew my father hated bland food, and I had paid for that mistake long ago. I placed the steaks on the grill and tried to make it cook faster. The driver would be here any second with my brother and father. Mother was upstairs, probably taking a nap or doing something other than taking care of me. They refused to have a professional chef cook anything. They said I had to earn my keep or else they would just throw me out, so I tried and tried to make them happy, but to no avail.

I jumped up when I heard the gates opening. No! Dinner was not ready and father would be far from happy. I tried pressing down the steaks but I ended up burning my hands. Roland, one of the "guards", opened the door and my father and brother stepped in, with confident and sure steps, ringing out throughout the mansion.

I swallowed thickly and stood up straight, my tearful eyes staring at my shoes.

I heard him step around me and sit at the head of the dining table, my brother following suit.

He sighed loudly and snapped his long and elegant fingers. With his strong, smooth, and creepy voice that gave everyone shivers, he said

"Drinks"

I scurried over to the alcohol cabinet and shakily grabbed a bottle of Vodka and a bottle of Cognac, my father's favorites. I set them on the table and bowed my head, careful to not show my anxiety.

He pointed to the Vodka and drummed his fingers on the table, impatiently. I poured the Vodka and sucked in a breath when my shaky hand spilled a bit.

"Clean it."

I nodded and wiped the table, making sure he would see how hard I was working.

My brother, who at the time was only five years old, was gracefully sitting on the chair (with an added booster), staring at me with cold and intense eyes, already being trained to be the heir.. the underboss.

Father took a sip of his drink, swirled it around, and ran his eyes over me, his eyes ice blue and as if calculating something.

"Where is the food?" I gulped and looked away.

"Sir, I'm sorry. It's not ready yet." He smirked softly and raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

I shakily responded "I'm sorry, sir. I was late and I couldn't finish cooking it in time."

He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Wrong answer."

My eyes filled with tears and at that point I couldn't stop shaking from fear. What was he going to do this time?

He took another sip from the glass and cleared his throat.

"I am hungry. You are responsible for sating my hunger. I am in turn responsible for providing you with food, water, shelter, education, and on. Since you are neglecting your responsibilities, I shall neglect my responsibilities, as well."

My eyes widened and I backed away slightly.

"Roland."

The guard walked up to my father and bowed his head. He kneeled down and kissed the Potter ring on my father's finger.

"Yes, capo?"

"Call Dursley. Let him rough Harrison up a bit. Then, I want both of you to take him to the yard and chain him to the gate at the end. Make sure one of you stands guard at all times and no food or water should be given. Bring him back after three days." He nodded and asked.

"Is that all, sir?"

My father shook his head and finished what was in the glass and motioned for me to refill it. He stared into my eyes and smiled a grand smile, the corners of his mouth leaning up and his sparking teeth shone. He looked like a monster ready to devour me. I involuntarily shivered.

"If he tries to run or is any trouble, make Dursley break his legs. If he screams, gag him. If he cries too much, blindfold him." His eyes twinkled as he finished what he was saying.

"If he begs to be let out or given food and water, rape him. Show him what begging leads to, both of you. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he's not infected." He chuckled softly as he smirked down at me.

"Oh and get us some food. I'm sure Duddley here is quite hungry. Aren't you, my beautiful boy?"

"Yes, papa."

My brother smiled at my father when he put his large hand on his small shoulder.

He chuckled again and with a single hand motion and a quickly uttered "Immediately!", my torture began.

I was dragged out with Roland pulling on my arm. I was numb, as I had not yet processed his commands. Rape? To his own son? I swallowed and my shaking increased.

"It's okay, just don't do anything he said. If it gets bad, I'll try to help you out."

I tried to smile weakly at Roland and I nodded. We went to the yard but it took us close to five minutes only to get to the gate at the end. It was a huge yard to compliment a huge house. He set me down on the floor and called Felix. I hated Felix. He was always the one to enjoy hurting me to fulfill my father's punishments.

I was shaking like a leaf as we waited for Vernon (he wanted me to call him by his first name). I tried taking deep breaths but it seemed like my throat was closing up and I was running out of air to breathe. Roland looked down at me for a second and averted his eyes. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh…hey kid, it's alright, just, um, breath."

"Y-yes, sir." I responded, wary of the older man.

My eyes widened and I stood straight as I heard the chilling voice.

"Well, well. Look what we've got here... A bitch ready to be beaten, isn't that right Harry?" Vernon calmly walked over and whispered the last part in my ear. I fought myself to not flinch or cower. That's what he wanted.

I groaned as a punch came down onto my undefended stomach. Roland's hands that held me up, prevented me from doubling over in pain. More and more punches assaulted me until I thought I could last no more. Blood was running down my face, probably from multiple sources and Roland wasn't only holding me up, he was basically carrying me. Vernon kicked me in the face once more and I heard a sickening crack, as my jaw erupted in pain. He curled his hand around my hair and brutally snapped my head up to face him.

His reddish eyes glowed as they stared into my scared blue eyes, and his smile was almost feral.

"Harry.." His voice was like a snake, slithering and wet. I hated the way he said my name, as if it was precious.

"You look so beautiful. I can hardly keep myself in check. It's like I want- no I need to hurt you. I need to see your face filled with pain. I need to see your blood, your tears. I need to hear your cries." I shuddered, my eyes barely open.

"Harry.. You turn me on. Your pain makes me so hard."

His tongue reached out and licked my ear. It was like a fire ignited in my body and I jerked back. No! I would not get raped.. not today.. not ever! I whispered, coarsely yet passionately.

"Please, stop. Please!" He chuckled at my pleas, and dangerously responded, his tone filled with malice.

"Oh, don't worry, Harry. I'll get what I want soon enough."

He turned around but raised his hand upward with a flourish. I was staring at his back.

"By the way. Wasn't one of the rules no begging?" He chuckled sadistically and sauntered away.

"No. Roland, please. You can't let him." I implored Roland, my eyes searching his empty ones, begging for some sort of agreement.

Instead, he shook his head and looked away.

"What the boss says is done." Tears filled my eyes and I started to cry.

This couldn't be happening. It wouldn't register in my mind how a man was going to take advantage of me and no one could or wouldn't do anything.

As the night grew nearer, Roland left and another guard came. I became more and more hungrier and I didn't know how I would manage three days like this.

Eventually father decided that I had learned my lesson and I had only suffered a sprained arm, broken nose, and a few bruised ribs. The usual, more or less. I was not raped. That day. I was also used to the hunger pains, but I dealt with them by biting my lip or cheek until I drew blood. At least it distracted me from the gnawing in my stomach and the dryness in my throat.

When class was dismissed, I went over to Professor Snape's desk and anxiously waited for him to talk to me.

He sighed and took off his glasses as he stared at me. I knew that stare. It was of disappointment and resignation.

"Harry. Is there something you want to tell me?"

I scrunched up my eyebrows as I tried to decipher his question and reasons, but it was pretty hard to do with the strong buzz I had going on.

"Um, no sir."

He shook his head and swallowed hard, obviously not okay with my answer.

"Harry, you've got to get your act straight because it's not cutting it for me anymore. I won't let you skip half of class anymore. I won't let you miss out on your homeworks or fail any tests anymore. And I definitely won't let you come to class drunk out of your mind anymore."

I raised my eyebrows at his declaration as I looked up at the clock- yep 10 minutes after the bell. I blinked a few times to clear the haze a bit and I smiled at Professor Snape, as I said.

"I respect your kind statement, sir, but I am sad to inform you that unless you were to expel me from this fine institution, I will continue to come to class drunk and do all of those things, whether you like it or not. So, with no offence intended, fuck off, Snape."

Well, of course I didn't actually say this, only in my head. I just said sorry and lowered my head like the severely trained coward I was. Yet, somehow I knew that this wasn't going to be the end of it.

That was when I realized that, this was going to be a fucked up year indeed, and the shit hadn't even hit the fan yet.

A/N: Thank you for reading! It would mean the world to me if some of you would favorite and/or comment. I really like comments because I use them as constructive criticism. I don't have a beta so if anyone is one and is up for the job, please PM me. Also, if anyone has any questions or concerns, please feel free to PM me and ask, but I won't give up the plot or what happens next... Very hypocritical of me, I know, but I'm enjoying the author life.. I think I'll take advantage of it a bit more before it slips from my grasp. I hope you enjoyed.

Always yours,

R.J.N