Harry Potter and the Shadow of Evil | By : nejihater5000 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 13159 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any sort of money from this work. All rights to the respective owners. |
Author’s word:
I thought I’d take a shot at writing some Harry Potter fanfiction for once, especially since I’ve been browsing through the (excellent) collection here on AFF. This story will be a yaoi story (though the lemons are going to come much, much later), so if you find that offensive, this isn’t the story for you. Some parts of the story will go along with the movies/novels.
Also, Harry Potter is extremely evil in this work. He will be seen torturing people with a neurotic passion. I thought it would be cool to give Harry a little power boost. To get an idea of what I’m talking about, think of Gaara from Naruto. J Also, I didn’t like how stupid the novels made him, so we’re going to give him a little boost in intellect as well.
Pairings will include Voldemort/Potter and Potter/Draco much later (oh the evil plans I have for Draco Malfoy!!!!!). With that, enough of my babbling. Let’s get on with the story.
Prologue:“BOY!! Get your ass outside and clean the flowerbeds!!” he heard Vernon say. The “boy” went outside and proceeded to do as he was commanded. Vernon just snorted, shifted himself in his Lazyboy recliner, and resumed watching the ballgame. Vernon Dursley seemed to many to be a hard-working, dedicated father.
His wife, Petunia Durlsey, seemed to many be a charitable saint donating her time and energy to the local church. She’s in good standing with the community at large, very popular in High Society, and is usually the center of attention at dinner parties.
Ah, and how can we forget “little” Dudley Dursley? Model student, loved by the community, the most popular kid in school.
They seem to be the perfect family… save for one… defect.
Petunia brought her husband a cold beer and sat on the couch to watch the game as well. “Vernon, where did you send him?” she asked. Her voice dripping with hatred at the mention of him. “Outside to clean the flowerbeds.” Vernon said dismissively, smirking. Petunia smirked as well. “Good. It’s a pity we can’t turn one of those into his bed. Sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs is too good for him.” Vernon smirked, nodding in agreement. “Yes, but then he would taint the flowerbeds.” Petunia laughed, nodding in agreement.
What the community didn’t know about this perfect family was its one defect. It has been said somewhere that the weakest link in the family chain exposes the true nature of said family. In the case of the Dursleys, it was true. Vernon, while being a hard-working, dedicated father to Dudley Dursley, was an abusive nightmare to the other child; a man who many would have killed without a moment’s thought, and only after hours of agonizing torture.
Petunia, far from being a saint, was nothing more than a petty, ass-kissing social climber who sleazed, bought, and sweet-talked her way up into high society.
Dudley Dursley, while he was polite on the outside, was actually a bully who instilled fear in the kids closest to him.
The young man, who the Dursley’s despised so much that they only referred to him as “boy”, is young Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. He was, bloodwise, the nephew of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, but he was not treated as such. Instead, he was forced by his family to do hard labor in and out of the house, and if he messed up in the slightest, he was punished severely. Punishments included severe beatings, starvation, and extreme isolation. Once he had messed up and spilled some milk on Dudley at the dinner table. Three broken ribs, a fractured skull, a broken arm, and one broken jaw later, he was forced to stay in his cupboard beneath the stairs for two weeks without food, with only small amounts of water given every two days. He wasn’t even allowed to go to leave the cupboard in order to go to the bathroom.
He cried gently at his situation, but Vernon banged hard on the door; “Boy shut your crying this instant before I give you something to cry about!” In Vernon’s eyes, young Harry Potter would learn the hard way not to cry over spilt milk. Vernon, smirking to himself at his incredibly bad pun, walked off to tell Petunia what he had just thought.
Young Harry Potter could do nothing but lightly cry himself to sleep each night, the pain of his injuries and his stomach tearing into his soul. Of course, not being allowed out to go to the bathroom had another set of problems. After two weeks, Vernon finally unlocked the door to let him out, only to be knocked back by the rancid stench of urine and feces. After cursing the “boy” and beating him some more (this time with a belt), and forcibly rubbing the boy’s face in it as though he were scolding a dog, he forced young Potter to clean the cupboard.
Normally, the smell of household disinfectants and cleaners isn’t so bad, but to am eleven year old boy who’s had nothing to eat and barely anything to drink for two weeks, it is terrible. The smell of the chemicals, mixed with the smell of the stirred up human waste made his stomach churn and hemorrhage, trying desperately to puke, but he had nothing to puke up. The smell was so toxic to him that he could hardly breathe; he coughed and gagged, and fought the urge to just pass out completely, because he knew… he knew oh so well that if he had just passed out, there would be hell to pay.
Thankfully, his broken bones and fractures healed up enough that the respective limbs can now be used. Sure, they’re sore as hell, but now they’re useable, and that is all that matters.
After powering through his task and cleaning himself, he was immediately charged with cooking dinner for the Dursleys. Harry actually liked cooking, and if he were lucky, the Dursleys would let him eat as well.
After a well-cooked meal, young Harry was sent off to his cupboard, which thankfully, has had a chance to air out. The Dursleys had a cat-flap on the door of the cupboard that they would always use to feed him. Thankfully, tonight he would get to eat, for Vernon had (begrudgingly) slid a plate of cold leftovers into the cupboard. Harry ate, though not as well as he would’ve liked, and went to sleep content with the fact that his stomach isn’t trying to digest itself anymore.
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