Hey guys, I'm really sorry that I didn't post any warnings for this story. I wasn't thinking, obviously. My sincere apologies if you ended up reading something that upset you. Warnings are up now. Let me know if you think I should add something more.

Warnings: Abusive!Dursleys, noncon!, manipulative!Dumbledore, smart!Harry

********

For the next few days, Harry did his best to avoid being alone with Marge, but it was near impossible, since she had been given jurisdiction over him for the duration of her stay. At night, after sneaking out to either give Ly food, which he stole from the kitchen, or a bit of the Muggle money which he had had exchanged before leaving Hogwarts so that Ly could buy some food from the nearby corner store, Harry would be plagued by nightmares of Marge's last visit. He woke up several times with his forearm bleeding from biting down on it to keep from screaming.

The memories of that week, where he had been chained in his boxers to the foot of Marge's bed, denied all sustenance, and whipped daily with Marge's horsewhip due to his refusal to give in to her demands, were forced to the forefront of his mind. Some nights, he awoke with his lower back burning where she had branded the word WHORE into his skin after he had finally given in. He wouldn't ever have done it, either, but she had threatened to get Vernon to give her custody and then prevent him from going to school, and he knew that if that happened, he wouldn't survive and he would never see his friends again. So after she had made that threat, he had swallowed his pride and begged her to allow him to screw her, just as she had demanded.

His face still burned with shame when he remembered the moment when he had given in and taunts and jeers that had followed. She had made him ask over and over again until she had finally unchained his wasted form and forced him to bed with her. He hated himself for giving in and had exploded that evening when she had claimed that his "bitch mother" had been "just like him" in that respect. That was when he had run away, because he knew that Vernon wouldn't let him live after performing magic on his sister.

Harry had never intended to come back after that summer, but Dumbledore had somehow caught wind of his plan and had taken him aside soon after his third year and told him the prophecy and about the blood protection at the Dursleys' and reprimanded him for running away. He further explained that if Harry ever left that protection, the entire wizarding world would fall, and surely a little pain and discomfort was worth the continued survival of the entire population. Harry, whose sense of self-worth was practically non-existent even before Marge's worst transgression, couldn't find any flaw in Dumbledore's logic and was forced to agree that it was a small price to pay. He had promised Dumbledore then that he would stay with his relatives until he was 17, and Dumbledore had personally escorted him to Privet Drive the next two summers.

After his stunt with Marge and his subsequent departure, the Dursleys had been more ruthless than ever, especially as Dudley had taken Marge's example of sexual assault to heart (with the encouragement of his parents), but Harry was left with no choice but to stay there, because Dumbledore assured him that he would be watching and would bring him back immediately if he tried to leave. This year, the headmaster hadn't been there to escort him, but the day after the funeral Harry had received a letter in that familiar curly script that stated "Remember your promise. The fate of the world rests on your shoulders. A.D." and he had dutifully returned to his personal hell, afraid of what else the old man may have put into place to ensure his compliance before he had died.

Before he had gone to Hogwarts, the Dursleys had often left him at Marge's when they went on vacations, and the molestation had been going on for years, but she had never actually raped him until that day when he was twelve. When he was in his fifth year at primary school, their class had talked about sexual abuse, and Harry had recognized that that was what was going on, but he knew he couldn't tell anyone. There had been several concerned teachers throughout his primary school years, but whenever someone had gone to the authorities, they had mysteriously disappeared soon afterward. After what Dumbledore told him third year, he had realized that this was probably Dumbledore's doing, which only augmented the hopelessness of his situation. But after that, he had a reason he could put to his suffering. Now, he wasn't being hurt for no reason, instead, he was being hurt for the good of the wizarding world he had come to love so much.

********

Ly knew something was going on with Harry, he just wasn't sure what. Harry wasn't visiting him anymore during the day, and when he came at night, it was always brief and Harry seemed worried and tense, although he tried his best to hide it. If Ly hadn't been observing his protector closely, he never would have noticed, but when Harry moved, he held himself stiffly, as though it hurt him, and his face grew gaunter each day. The dark circles under his eyes, which were only visible briefly if Harry moved into the light from the streetlamp that shone through the shed window, indicated that he wasn't sleeping well. Ly wished he could do something.

One night, he noticed Harry's lingering, almost wistful glance at the small bag of crisps that Ly had bought the previous day. He immediately offered it to the older boy, who shook his head and smiled slightly. "No, kiddo," he'd said softly, almost sadly. "It's yours. You need to make sure you're getting enough to eat. You are, aren't you? Have I been giving you enough money? Is there anything else you need?"

"Don't worry, Har, it's been more than enough. I owe you so much for doing all this for me. Do you want me to get you anything when I'm at the store tomorrow?"

Again, that wistful smile on his face. "You're a good kid, you know that?" he said, as he ruffled Ly's hair. "If you have extra money, you can spend it on anything you want, but I'm such a pig I'd probably eat all of your food if you gave me half a chance," he continued with a grin.

It was that comment, voiced so casually, that cemented Ly's determination to do something. He knew Harry wasn't a pig. He was so thin that Ly was sometimes afraid he'd fall over if a strong wind hit him. Plus, Ly had seen a pig—that blonde kid who Harry had saved him from! Even Harry had called him a pig, and Harry was the most considerate, kindest person Ly could ever remember meeting. Well, he realized, that doesn't really say much, considering I can't remember anything, but still...

So Ly determined that when he went to the store tomorrow, he'd get Harry something. He wanted to show the older boy how much he appreciated his help.

********

That night, Harry's nightmares were worse than usual. This time, instead of simply reliving his experiences at Marge's hand, he was forced to watch as first Matt, then Lissa, Johnny, Ron, Hermione, Krista, and finally Ly were standing in his place. For the first time in a long time, Harry couldn't hold back his cries as he dreams continued.

********

Marge awoke suddenly in the middle of the night. She was unsure at first of the cause of her abrupt awakening, but then she heard a noise coming from the room down the hall. Aha! she thought triumphantly. Now I can finally figure out what really makes the runt tick. Something else to use as blackmail against him.

She crept down the hallway as quietly as possible and opened the door to Harry's room. She smirked as she saw the tears running down his pale face and the smirk widened when she heard what he was crying.

"No!...please, not Ly! No...don't hurt him! ...He's good...hurt me instead...please! ...Stop it! ...Run, Ly! ...Get in the shed! ...Go!"

Marge chuckled inwardly before closing the door again and returning to her room. So he has a soft spot for some "Ly" character. And what was that comment about a shed? Marge stepped to the window overlooking the backyard as she contemplated what to do with this new information. Suddenly, the garden shed caught her eye. I wonder...

********

The next morning, Marge was up early. She locked the door to Harry's room before heading downstairs and out the door. She lumbered over to the window to the shed and peered inside, a savage grin forming on her face as she observed the sleeping form on the cot. She knew exactly what she was going to do.

********

Harry woke even more exhausted than he'd been when he went to sleep, if that were possible. He stumbled dizzily toward the door—Marge hadn't allowed him anything to eat since she arrived four days ago—and was surprised to find it locked. Oh well, he thought despondently to himself. It's not as though I would've been able to eat the breakfast I cooked anyway. Wonder what I did this time, though?

He returned to sit on his bed, head in hands, a headache already pounding behind his eyes. Please let me get some food today...

********

Ly awoke to someone knocking on the door of the shed. He sat up, wondering why Harry was back so soon. But when the door opened, it wasn't Harry. Instead, it was an extremely large, rather ugly woman with a simpering smile on her face. Ly's heart started to race, but he hid his discomfort as well as he could.

"Good morning," said the woman. "You're Ly, aren't you?"

"I...who are you?" asked Ly cautiously.

"Oh, my apologies. Of course you wouldn't know who I am. I'm Marge. I'm staying with Harry while his aunt and uncle are out. He mentioned that he's been helping you and that you could use a hot meal, you poor dear. Why don't you come into the house with me and we'll get you something good to eat, okay hon?"

"Er...well...I guess, if Harry told you about me..." Ly was still a bit suspicious of her intentions, but he couldn't say no, as he had no plausible excuse, and she was blocking the door and much bigger than he. Plus a hot meal did sound good and Harry would be in there.

"Good, good. Come along then, child," Marge cooed as she ushered him out of the shed, her hand on his shoulder. Ly tensed under her touch, realizing that he wouldn't be able to get away if she was holding on to him.

As they walked through the back door into the kitchen, a peculiar feeling overcame him and his body started tingling as though he were passing through spider webs. Then, just as he started to sit down, a blinding pain shot through his head and everything went dark.

Marge was caught off guard, but decided to take advantage of the situation. She carried the small unconscious boy up to her room and sat him in a chair in the corner. She pulled down the shade and then proceeded to bind the boy's hands and feet to the chair. Then she walked swiftly toward Harry's room, glad that Vernon and Petunia had decided to take Dudley to an amusement park and resort for the weekend.

********

Harry rose quickly to his feet as he heard Marge approach his room. He mentally reaffirmed his promise to himself not to allow her to force him to do anything against his will while steeling himself for the molestation that he knew was coming.

Marge entered the room, smirking as she noticed that he was swaying slightly. She grabbed his arm and spun him around so his back was facing her before forcibly removing his shirt. With a fingernail, she traced the letters she'd branded into his skin on her last visit in a sick parody of affection. Her greedy eyes took in the countless scars marring his pale skin as he jerked away from her touch. She could see the goosebumps on his thin arms as she pulled him to her.

"Harry," she purred, her pudgy fingers tracing his abdominal muscles, "won't you ask to take me today?"

His eyes had snapped to her face at her utterance of his given name before his expression hardened.

"Never!" he answered vehemently. Marge was pleased to note that the boy still had fire in him even when he could barely stand. She reached up and stroked his cheek before suddenly pushing him hard toward the door. He fell on his hands and knees, no match for her bulk.

"We'll see about that, you whore!" she barked at him. "To my room! Now!"

********

Harry felt dread well up in his stomach as he entered the guest room. It took him a minute to realize they were not alone in the room and his heart stopped as he saw the small figure in the corner.

"What did you do to him?!" he demanded furiously.

"Nothing...yet," Marge responded as she retrieved the horsewhip from on top of the dresser. "But your refusal today is going to cost him," she added as she swiftly raised the whip in the air and brought it down on Ly's helpless form. A bright red welt appeared across his cheek.

"What do you think of five lashes?" taunted Marge as she raised her arm for another go.

"No!" Harry choked out as he lunged toward the younger boy. He jerked as the whip made contact with his bare back, but he made no sound other than a swift intake of breath.

"Well, I was just going to flog him, but I have no problem whipping both of you," she jeered as she brought the whip sharply down on his back again. Harry barely noticed for the tears running down his cheeks as he saw blood trickling slowly down Ly's cheek.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, as he jerked under another lash from the whip.

Two lashes later, Marge stepped forward and pulled him roughly away. "Now, boy, I might be willing to reconsider his punishment, if you just did as I asked," she offered maliciously.

Harry glanced at the still-unconscious boy in the corner as Marge raised the whip again. "No! ...Don't hurt him!" he cried out, tears filling his eyes. "Please..." he added softly, as he turned his head away.

"Please what?" taunted the woman.

"Please...let me –take–you," he forced out in a quiet, strained voice.

"You little slut!" Marge sneered caustically. "Ask me again!"

Eyes burning with shame and tears now flowing freely down his face, he did as he was told.

********

Severus was jerked to partial consciousness by a sharp stinging sensation across his face. What pissed off the Dark Lord this time? He thought incoherently. Odd that he isn't using Crucio...flogging is rather Muggle...

"...five lashes..."

He tensed himself for another blow as he belatedly processed another crack of the whip, but—

"No!"

And there was the sound of whip hitting flesh, but somehow, it wasn't his flesh. What in the world?!

"...no problem...both of you..."

Crack!

"I'm so sorry..."

"Please...let me take you."

And the blackness swirled around him again.