Disclaimer: I do not own

A/N The rape scene was beta'd by 77DMK77, and I am very thankful for the help, it wouldn't have been as good without the help, and advice.

The chapter was updated early in honour of drumline, who won the one shot for the 100th reviewer.

Left For Dead

Harry Potter was sitting comfortably on his settee drinking tea, when the door suddenly barged open, no warning whatsoever. He spluttered; his wand out and in his hand before the two at the door could even blink. When his panic subsided, he realized with some relief that it was his son, and a look alike of Malfoy. His son Scorpius, presumably. He spelled away the mess his spluttering had caused, and with a sigh showed the boys to a couch opposite his settee, wondering what could have them looking so worried.

It was a minute before either of the boys spoke and when they did, it was spoken with fear, and at the same time.

"Albus is.."

"…Can't find him anywhere…"

"Not on the map, Dad"

When what they were saying finally registered in his muddled brain he stood up suddenly, hovering over the two young students, one of which was his son.

"James?" he asked, concern and worry lacing his voice. "Care to repeat that, slowly, so I can understand what exactly you are trying to tell me?"

James nodded mutely, tugging at his hair, in a very obvious motion of discomfort. Harry's heart was beating with trepidation, but until he could be positive, he was not going to freak out; there was time for that later, after all.

When James finally spoke, it was with a trembling voice, and wide staring eyes. Something really was up, and Harry prayed to any god that would listen, that it was nothing as serious as he imagined.

"The last time Scorpius had heard from Albus was a couple of hours ago, he explained to me, that he felt a sudden feeling of loss, and emptiness. He thought nothing of it, figuring it was a figment of his imagination. And about half an hour after that, he heard a roaring in his mind, as well as something that sounded like begging. When Albus didn't show up for dinner, and hadn't returned to the Slytherin Common Room all day, he finally came to find me, and I told him about the Marauder's map. Albus wasn't on it. He isn't in school Dad…"

Harry felt his face whiten, and nearly felt his knees buckle from beneath him, but now was not the time for him to breakdown, both his sons needed him now; and he would have to be there for them, before himself, before he could calm down, and make himself feel better.

"Where is Lily in all of this?" he asked finally, scratching at his nose anxiously.

"She has no idea that anything is wrong," James replied in a soft murmur. Harry nodded his head, it was good Lily did not know, it would help them that a young girl was not crying hysterically over her missing brother. But of course, they would find Albus, and everything would be fine, right? It was his uncertainty and fear that something really could be wrong with Albus that had him almost collapsing again. He plopped ungracefully down on the couch near his son.

"Hand me the map, James," James complied quickly, and handed the never lying map over to his father.

Harry remembered when Draco Malfoy had disappeared off the map, only to learn later that he was holed up in the Room of Requirement all the time. His heart settled for a minute, as he considered this option.

Determined, he stood up suddenly, causing his two young charges to gape in surprise. "I have a possible place to check first," he explained, and headed for the door, the boys still staring at him in shock. "Well? Are you coming?" His voice was impatient, but he didn't want his dread to show on his face. He needed to remain calm. The two boys nodded, and jumped up, perfectly synchronized. If Harry hadn't been nervous, his eyebrows would have raised at their camaraderie.

The trio sprinted towards the seventh floor where the Room of Requirement was located. The two boys stopped running once Harry paused in front of a seemingly empty wall. A look of concentration adorned his face, and he paced back and forth three times. When a door suddenly appeared, Harry did collapse. James was at his side in seconds. "Dad?" he asked cautiously, and Harry felt his son's comforting hand clenching his robes, and he felt relieved someone was there for him. In a choked voice, he managed to croak something out. It must have been inaudible, because James was shaking him out of his stupor, asking over and over if he was okay.

Mutely, he shook his head, that no, he most definitely was not ok. He felt James sit down on the floor next to him, still holding a comforting arm around his father, and Harry was ever grateful that he had such an understanding son.

"You see," he started explaining, his voice coming out in a choked monotone, "When I was about your age, your father," he pointed at Scorpius "was searching for something in this exact room. No matter what I tried asking the room for, it would refuse to open for me." He could see Scorpius nodding, apparently Draco had told him the story as well, "Anyway, unless you know exactly what to ask for, the door will not open if someone is in fact inside. The door opened for me, even though I asked for something silly, which means, Albus is not on the school grounds."

This time, it was Scorpius who sunk to his feet, all color draining from his face. His body began to shake, tremors floating from his hands to his legs. "I was right," he muttered, "I was right…something bad happened to him…he's in trouble, my Al is in trouble."

For a moment, it was quiet, and Albus nearly sagged in relief. Hope washed over him when he could no longer hear footsteps or movement near him. Taking a risk, he opened his eyes, squinting; he couldn't see anything at all, except for what he had seen earlier. He was still tied to the bed, arms and legs spread like an X. He was thankful to notice that his clothes were still on, but he jolted at the knowledge, that if they wanted to play, and torture him, being clothed would make it worse. They would drag it out, humiliating him, hurting him, until he begged for mercy. He wasn't above begging, anything to get him out of this situation.

He twisted again in his bounds; it hurt, and was extremely uncomfortable. A sudden shout had him cowering in fear. They were here the whole time, observing him. He was screwed. SHIT!

"So, the queer is finally awake," a sneering voice whispered in his ear. He shuddered, and tried to move, wanting to get as far away as possible from his two ex best friends. The two boys, whom until recently had admired him, as he admired them. The same two, whom had taken pleasure in beating the crap out of Scorpius, because they were so ignorant as to believe that loving someone, or even liking someone of the other sex, was wrong. It was with another startling realization that he realized just why he was here. Somehow, Boot and Creevey had seen him with Ciaran. With Scorpius, he was always careful, so it could not be him. But Ciaran, he was in the library, a place where students were always coming and going; and it was very possible that someone had seen them. And now? Now, the two Slytherins had come to take revenge. Revenge on him, because he could now be titled a fag; a title that had his ex best friends shuddering in revulsion.

What he couldn't fathom though, was why rape him? If their despise was so great for anything that had to do with homosexuality, how would raping him solve anything? His mind answered him. If he were raped, an action satisfactorily callous inflicted upon him by another male, did they figure he would not want to go near another male?

A harsh smack to his face made him to hiss out in pain.

"Time for the fun to begin, don't you agree, Alex?" Nicholas said menacingly, trailing a sharp nail across Albus' cheek, tearing at the skin, breaking it, a swirl of blood dripping down and onto the dirty sheets.

"When should we take off his clothes?" Alex asked, obviously wondering why it was still left secure on Albus' body.

"No!" Albus shouted, hoping that Boot would not carry through the order; it was what still left him with dignity, his hope, that somehow, they would find their senses. Would not touch him in a way, which until now, had felt pleasurable and exciting.

"Why, how very correct you are, Alex." Albus watched, his eyes wide with terror, as Nicholas mutely pointed at his shirt, and then indicated to his pants. Alex nodded, his eyes lighting up as he laughed, the sound reverberating around the walls, and echoing back towards them, the noise ominous and unrefined.

And then, both Creevey and Boot were upon him, Creevey, opening his shirt buttons slowly, making the humiliation go on forever, while Boot was doing the same to his trousers. He kept his eyes screwed shut, not wanting to see what was happening to him; if he didn't see, he could pretend that it wasn't happening, right? But when his other sensory organs sharpened, he forced his eyes to open, and kept them locked at the ceiling, wondering how long this would take, if he could somehow compel himself not to live through it. Wishing, that he could be the observer of his own body, rather than feel the unwanted hands on him, dirtying him, sullying him.

Albus felt as his trousers were opened, the zipper going down, agonizingly slow. When the zipper grazed against his soft prick, it burned, even over the soft cotton of his briefs that were still protecting him. Albus could barely contain his whine, by Merlin! that hurt. Nevertheless, he knew, without a doubt, that crying, screaming and begging was something the two vindictive boys working on him wanted. His trousers were finally off, and that's when it got worse.

As if the two boys on top of him were leeches, they began tearing at his flesh, the cold metal of a thin nail digging into his skin, and the edge of a blade, sharp against him, cutting him, causing his blood to seep through the many small and large scrapes that they created. Albus growled, the sting of the nails and knives slashing into his skin, forced him to try and escape, he struggled aimlessly against the bonds holding him, but all it did was form tighter around his hands and legs, making him scream again.

He didn't want to show fear, hate, or anything but the screams were getting harder and harder to contain. The sheets below him were slowly wetting. Whether it was from the sweat that trickled from every pore, or the blood that had been seeping down his arms legs and torso, he couldn't be sure.

His eyes remained glued to the ceiling, lips sealed tightly, his sharp teeth guarding against any scream to threaten. But when he felt a knife stab at a nipple, a cry left his lips before he could stop it. Before he knew it, he was blubbering "Please!" he sobbed "Please stop doing that, please!"

The only resulting answer was another stab at the same nipple. Albus saw white, and for a moment, he was sure he had faded from consciousness. But when his eyes opened unwillingly once more, and he saw Boot's sneering face looming above him, he knew he had fallen unconscious. "Passing out won't do you any good Potter. Every time we'll just wake you, so don't bother."

So he had passed out. Now that he was awakened to it, the pain was much worse. He knew he could have been out of it for long, but the ache throbbed in every part of his body, tearing at him, begging for reprieve. But he couldn't, he did not want to beg again, it only seemed to egg them on.

A powerful kick to his ribs had him yelling in agony. As he had thought, this spurred his attackers on further, and the kicks came from every direction, any open stretch of flesh was assaulted. His underwear was suddenly ripped off; the cooling draft that suddenly swirled there shocked him more, and he heard Boot whisper, "Kick that, Potter needs to learn the true meaning of pain." Albus knew what was coming, and as he struggled with his bonds to protect his private parts and penis, they only tightened, and it hurt even more, the leather cutting into his wrists and ankles as he continued struggling. But Alex Creevey did not heed his thoughts, and he drew from Albus a long shriek of agony as if he were pulling a bucket, as slow and exacting, out of a deep well. His vision darkened around the edges of his conscious, and when the leering face of Nicholas Boot coming into his sight he realized, that he had once again passed out. The boy wanted him to experience as much pain as possible, and if he knew what they were going to do, this was only the beginning. He hadn't heard Boot speak, but a sharp slap brought his eyes to face his attacker. He felt the blade of a knife against his throat, and whimpered when the sharp edge cut into his soft skin, fresh blood trickled into the mass already drained from him. "You pass out again, I will make sure to cut deeper and deeper into that pretty neck of yours, until you DIE."

Tears did fall now, and without the use of his hands to wipe them away, they dripped down his cheeks. Albus watched, as Nicholas' face contorted into a sneer, before spit shot from his mouth, a warm and disgusting liquid onto Albus' face. Again, he couldn't wipe it away, and he lowered his eyes in submission, hoping that Nicholas would leave him alone. He did, but not as he wished, with his underwear now off, he could figure out that the real torture would begin then.

He suddenly felt lighter, and realized that Nicholas had finally taken his leave of his body. His relief however, was short-lived. He watched in anguish as the two boys spoke quietly amongst themselves, before nodding and then lowering their pants, until it bunched up at their ankles, and then completely coming off. They left their shirts on, as if undressing entirely would indeed dub them no less queer than their victim. The stupidity that Albus thought the boys had between them almost made him laugh aloud.

They were on him again, Alex attacking his lips fiercely, biting hard enough to break the delicate flesh. Blood flowed, but Albus was beginning to understand that that was their goal; the more blood that bled from him, the better. He suddenly wondered what their master plan was. Did they think that they could get rid of the Muggle blood that ran through him? He was a half-blood, their pureblood, and they must know that making him bleed wouldn't change that. But the torture they inflicted on him, maybe that's what they wanted. His mind couldn't form any more coherent thoughts, his brain felt muddled and foggy.

Alex was still trying to get him to respond; tugging harshly at his lips, and licking at him, slobbering all over his face, forcing him to open his lips, and then biting at his tongue in a very dominating way.

Albus felt he couldn't find a stretch of skin not cut, torn, or mauled. He knew blood was everywhere, but that didn't stop them from continuing their torture.

His measly hope that someone would find him, withered then; how would anyone find him here? Was he still in Hogwarts? If people started missing him, maybe they would go to his father? He doubted that, students always took some time to themselves, and if they disappeared for just a little bit longer than was necessary, they weren't bothered. Hogwarts wasn't the type of school that interfered with the students; unless they were performing illegal magic, or hurting someone. After hours was another story, but generally, people wouldn't risk being out that late. Maybe when Scorpius realized he wasn't in the dorms for curfew…Perhaps then, someone would be alerted. He sighed. He wouldn't know, he didn't even have an inkling as to where he was.

He suddenly gasped, when cold hands gripped his member. He was half hard, and prayed that he would remain that way. But as the harsh tugs and bruising fingers kept applying pressure on his cock, it began to harden even further. A feeling of shame whelmed over Albus as the sensations he was experiencing flowed through his very veins, enticing him, as well as disgusting him, even more. Sharp fingernails ran over the soft flesh of his foreskin and the hardened muscles of his tool. He shivered; it felt good and horrible at the same time. He wished it would stop, and when it did, he was so surprised, he made his eyes focus onto the room around him. Alex had finally stopped mauling his mouth, and now stood to the side, handing something over to Boot.

When Albus saw what it was he paled. When he saw Boot finger it adoringly, his heart thundered as it had never before. Time, as if it too felt deserving of harming him, seemed to slow, and Albus watched in horror as the whip came whistling down onto his balls, his eyes watered, and his mouth opened to scream. But even though the pain registered, no sound came out of his mouth. His breath was lost, forgotten, amidst the harsh treatment he was receiving. He gasped, trying to catch his breath, but as every blow to his sack strengthened, his breath weakened, and though his mind was screaming in misery, he couldn't emit a sound higher than a squeak. It was after thirty blows that Albus stopped counting.

Tears running down his face in rivulets, Albus couldn't stop the agonizing yelps and cries that left his mouth, and every scream made Nicholas' smirk grow smugger, the latter didn't seem to care that he could hardly breathe anymore, or that his cries were merely whimpers; to Nicholas, any sign of weakness lessened Albus, and strengthened him.

The pain suddenly receded. The area around him was black, and nothing came to sight. But Albus was happy, he was at peace. But when a sharp blade was once again, digging deeply into the soft skin of his neck, he realize he had passed out once again. He cried and cried, and didn't bother to answer Boot, as his threats grew more ominous as the blade dug in deeper than usual, and a harsh shudder passed through his lips in between his sobs.

After what seemed like hours had passed, the whipping finally seemed to be over, and even though he couldn't touch his bollocks with his hands, he knew that he had been whipped enough times to cause blood to flow freely from his extremely tender balls. His cock had received some of the treatment as well, and though it wasn't bruised as harshly, Albus could only imagine why they would want to leave it mostly unharmed.

He got his answer soon enough. He saw Boot hover above him, a menacing look on his face, mixed with a malicious leer. Albus felt his heart flutter in consternation. It was about to happen. He knew it, and the look on his face caught Nicholas' attention, and the resounding laugh made him understand with crystal clarity, that Nicholas knew he knew exactly what was about to transpire.

Albus watched apprehensively as Nicholas placed himself directly in front of Albus. He wanted to shut his eyes, as Boot began to align his cock to Albus' entrance, but the sight was as appealing as it was horrifying.

Their eyes met, and it scared him to see no recognition in the brown eyes, just disgust, mixed with a bit of lust. A bead of sweat dropped onto Albus stomach, as Nicholas remained hovered above Albus, Nicholas' arms imprisoning themselves on either side of Albus' chest. Once he was settled, and his gleeful eyes still trained on Albus terrified ones, he lifted on arm, and held onto his penis.

Without warning, he forced himself into the tight ream of muscle. It was then that Albus began screaming, choking on his cry as he began to plead with his rapist. "Please!" he said, all the dignity and pride removed, if only to stop the torture, and unimaginable pain that was to come. "Please, stop!" However, Nicholas ignored him, to busy concentrating on the in and out movement of sex. Sweat gathered more firmly on his forehead, and his pants could be heard loud and clear, as he exerted himself with hurting Albus.

Nicholas' prick suddenly touched something within him, and the startled moan of pain and pleasure escaped him, causing his pleas to begin anew. "Please, Nick," he half-whispered, half-groaned. "Please, don't do this to me."

Nicholas had only stilled for a moment at the sound of his childhood nickname, but that was all the emotion Albus saw leave his stoic face, and in a quick flash, his expression went back to sweet concentration, his face now red with exertion from the harsh thrusts he kept on administering to Albus.

The tears flowed down Albus' cheeks, and a harsh scream rushed past his lips when the pain got too much, but even though Nick was ignoring him, he didn't want to give up. He would continue to beg, to plead, he would continue to hope that somewhere in the recesses of his ex-friend's mind, there was a tiny modicum of pity, that only need be searched for.

Nicholas touched that spot in him again, and along with a moan, he arched up in the bed, looking as if he had been electrocuted; his body in an odd angle, his hands and legs tethered to the metal bedposts, and the rest of his body arched upward. In a word, he looked like he was being castrated like an animal for the likeness of the wealthy people.

"Nick!" his broken voice cried, above the sound of heavy grunting, and harsh pants, "Nicky, please, please stop this, please, let me go, please..."

His prick was now a little more than half hard, and Alex, noticing this, began to rub at his penis, not as hard as Nicholas had done, but enough to make it more uncomfortable than pleasurable. Unwillingly, he began to harden further, and he had never before felt more embarrassed in his whole life. "Why?" he whispered brokenly to Alex, "Why are you doing this, why are you hurting me, why…?" His pleas of why, along with the cries of begging Nicholas to stop, both were unreturned Alex looked away, and Albus wondered mildly if he regretted what he was doing. He'd know if Alex would get his turn, as he'd wanted earlier; he'd know then, how he thought of this situation.

A particularly sharp thrust made his vision swim in front of him. Not understanding as darkness encroached up on it, he reached out to it, his eyes falling shut, and his whimpers quietening.

The piercing of a blade touched his neck, and it was with a sob that he once more returned to consciousness. Alex now kept the knife trained by his neck, and hopelessness returned, when Boot nodded appreciatively to Creevey. It was a warning, more than anything else. If he would fall unconscious again, they would kill him. Though it was impossible to reach that peak, as every thrust made the knife jab into his throat just enough, that passing out was nearly impossible.

"Please!" he begged, "Please stop!"

Boot was suddenly perched close to his face, the knife in his hand, how it had gotten from Alex to him, was a mystery to him, but it must have been swift, because suddenly, it was pointed at his chest, and not on his neck. "You will come when told, do you understand me?" Boot snarled. Albus didn't answer. Instead, he whimpered miserably, his tears that still flowed down his face came down harder, flooding his eyes, and blurring his vision. The knife pierced his other nipple, and he shrieked again, in his ear, he could hear the question spoken again, "Do you understand?" Albus gave up, and just nodded, and shut his eyes, unable to bear to look at himself, or anything for that matter. He had never felt more disgraced or used in his life.

A shout came from Nicholas then, and Albus wondered dully if it was over. With a lustful cry, Nicholas screamed, "CUM, NOW!" At the same time, Nicholas pulled out of his entrance, and sprayed his semen all over Albus' face, and let the remaining cum to trickle along Albus' chest.

Repulsed as he had never been repulsed before, but left without a choice, he urged himself to climax; it was a big shock therefore, when his cum squirted out and hit Nicholas square in his chest, the rest fell over Alex's hands; which were still wrapped around his shaft, urging the last trifle of liquid pleasure out.

All Albus' muscles failed him, he slumped onto the bed, his hands and legs still held above him, uncomfortably. He felt his eyes flutter closed, and he begged every deity, to let him fall peacefully into slumber, or better yet, let him die—that way he would never have to feel the pain that was running through every bone in his body.

When he felt Nicholas dismount off him, and Alex taking his place, he knew that his torture was almost over, and this time, he didn't complain, he let the tears fall silently, and kept clamping on his lips to stop his screams.

This time, when Alex came, he sprayed all over his groin, and legs. Albus said nothing; he was done complaining, done begging. They had ignored all his pleas. Perhaps now they would leave him to rest. His lips were mangled, and if magic had not existed, he was certain it would never heal again.

Both boys got off him, casting cleaning and refreshing charms on themselves, and did not bother to point these spells Albus' way.

Albus was still drifting in the conscious world, wishing for death. And when the shout of 'Crucio' reached his ears; he welcomed the pain, as it surrendered him to the unconsciousness of the real world.

Scorpius couldn't stop shaking. Harry Potter, The Harry Potter had just confirmed his fears. Albus was not on the school grounds. He was panicking; different images of what might have happened flitting through his mind like a wild video, running on fast forward. His trembling took a turn for the worst, and suddenly an arm was around him. He looked up to see James there, his face pale, yet determined. Neither bothered asking if the other was all right. It was a moot point; it was obvious that nobody was alright.

The trio sprinted to the Headmistress' office, and that was when Scorpius noticed that Harry Potter finally lost his cool. His fears came stumbling out in a jumble of words, Professor McGonagall staring at them all in shock.

"So, what you are saying is that a student is missing?" her voice was crisp, sharp.

"NO!" Harry bellowed, "What I'm saying is that my SON is missing!"

McGonagall fixed her hat, and sat straighter in her chair. She turned to face the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses, who were all muttering amongst themselves, discussing what the Boy Who Lived had said.

James never took his arm away from around Scorpius' shoulders, giving him the strength and support he needed. He felt bad that James was not getting the same support, and he offered a weak smile to the eldest Potter child. He didn't smile back, but he did nod his head, as if to say, in unspoken terms, that everything would be alright.

The voice of the late Albus Dumbledore had them both raising their heads; paying attention to what he said could change the outcome of the situation.

"Have either of you checked the Shrieking Shack?"

The way Harry Potter slumped over proved that he had in fact not even thought of it.

"No, Merlin, I didn't think of that, oh, I hope he is there, I hope he is safe," and then he was sprinting out of the office, leaving a startled Scorpius and James behind.

"Come on," Scorpius shouted to James, and the two followed quickly behind him, Scorpius kept his hand clamped around James' wrist, and if James minded, he didn't mention it.

Scorpius saw Harry a few yards away, and the two automatically quickened their already fast pace. It felt like hours before they finally reached the Entrance Hall, and beyond that, the entrance to Hogwarts. Harry was already through the doors, before either of them even had a chance to touch the last stair.

It was at the Whomping Willow where Scorpius and James finally caught up. The branches were moving around dangerously, and Harry was muttering an incantation that neither boy could hear. Finally, when the branches stopped moving, they, as one, entered the small entrance and sprinted down the corridors, looking into every room that was there, in hope of finding the small boy.

No one was prepared for the sight that met their eyes when they finally spotted Albus Potter.

He was tied to the bed, castrated and vulnerable, available to anyone who might want a go. The amount of blood that was on him and around him was frightening. Cum was all over Albus, and there was blood by his arsehole. Being that blood was literally everywhere, no one was able to tell if the blood was from forced invasion, but from the looks of it, it was a very big possibility.

With a cry, Scorpius lunged forward, the other two on his heels. When he saw no tell tale sign of a chest lifting and falling, he panicked. Hesitantly he reached over, and touched Albus' hand softly. From the corner of his eye, he could see Harry and James inspecting Albus just as he was. The fear in their eyes was as evident as his; for Albus' lips were blue, his skin cold, and he wasn't breathing.

A/N well, that was extremely difficult to write, but I hope you guys enjoy it, and leave me a review on what you think

A special thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, it was a surprising amount, especially in two days. I hope to get the same amount, if not more, within the week.

Please let me know what your feedback is, especially considering the rape scene, it was my first one, and I would love to know what you thought.

The 125th reviewer gets a one-shot of their choice ;)