Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness	By : Ladygreychaton Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 37461 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, this is just for fun, with no intentions of profit.

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Be Careful What You Wish For ~
What if, instead of being treated like a house-elf, Harry was treated like a prized pet? What if he was trained, and tutored, his gifts encouraged as long as they were 'useful'. How might he have turned out? What power do names truly hold?

[[ Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made. There will be many disclaimers, but you're an idiot if you think this is for profit. ]]
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Everything was better when it ran precisely on schedule, this was simply a fact of life. The world was a well-oiled machine, and Vernon Dursley was a man who enjoyed greasing it's gears.

The garbage was taken every Monday morning in it's regulated recipticals, and twice weekly on Tuesday and Thursday, the milk was delivered right to their door. The post was always between 8:00 and 8:20, save a holiday or exempting reason. Every Friday Petunia had the items that were harder to find in their area delivered to their door, the grocer that stocked them simply dropping them off and picking up the tab from Vernon's perfectly on time pocketbook. Never a check bounced, and his statements were always reflected by his puncuality.

Vernon himself, woke precisely at quarter after six every morning, save for Sundays of course. He'd dress in his freshly pressed suit, laid out by his loving young wife, Petunia. By seven o'clock, he'd have finished his morning ablutions of shaving and brushing his teeth, even having trimmed and combed his mustache-- for there was nothing he hated more than anything unkempt! But, a mustache was something that displayed a man's power, and so he took great care to ensure that it ran precisely on his schedule as well.

Heading down the hallway, Vernon would lumber down the stairs and greet his sweet wife, who was already up and fixing breakfast, all while taking care of his son and heir. A proper english breakfast, as well. Fried eggs, fried tomatoes, bacon, toast and some delicious sausage with a strong cup of black tea. A man's meal, to help him through the day, such a loving wife he had.

He'd then kiss his squealing child's sticky cheek, who appeared to have more food on him than in, little angel that he was, chuckling fondly pick up his briefcase, chastely kiss his young wife on the lips and head to the door at a quarter to 8 o'clock. Yes, things were best when they ran on schedule indeed, Vernon decided.

And life was good for the man. He had a small child, but altogether a good one, he'd been assured. Healthy, strong, and already independent. Dudley would make a great, strapping young lad, and end up at a good college and maybe even University when the time came.

His wife was lovely, having kept her shapely, girlish figure after having the boy, such a slender thing. Though Vernon wasn't sure how Petunia managed, she was exactly what a wife was supposed to be. She had the most lovely pale green eyes, and very pale blond hair. When he had met his lovely Petunia, his lovely flower, and began courting her, he had counted his blessings. And now that he had Dudley? Well, the world could not be brighter. He had a steady job at Grunnings, the Drill company, and was doing quite well for his age. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly.

But today, as Vernon headed towards the door, he paused at the door for the broom cupboard under the stairs. Eyeing it for a moment. He was running slightly ahead of schedule, and somehow, he felt a tinge of... intrigue? Curiosity? What was it that pulled him with shaking fingers to open the locks on the door? Vernon would never know, but his actions that day were never meant to happen.

Opening the latch, the large man peeked inside, his beady blue eyes darting about for any sign of whatever it was that he ought. All was still. All was quiet. But inside, was their family's secret. A few months ago, he'd rightly forgotten how many, his wife's estranged... 'abnormal' sister had gotten herself murdered and dumped her 'abnormal' offspring here with them. Vernon was against child abuse, what could the thing really do? But Petunia was adamant that the thing could hurt Dudley if left in close quarters with him. And Vernon couldn't have that, now could he? He was a reasonable man, after all.

The television droned on in the background, one of those dog shows that Tuney was so fond of. The announcer was going on about to train the little bastards early, giving them a firm and loving hand, that this was the easiest way for them to preform on command. The beasts would be able to do the most remarkable tricks for their adoring masters if they were taken in hand early, he told other breeders. Best to train the pup as soon as you got it away from the bitch, and you'd have yourself a showdog.

Now, Vernon was nothing, if not a greedy man. While his life was going quite well, there was something to human nature that always argued that it could simply go better. And the wheels in his brain began to turn as he half-listened to the television, staring into the darkness of the broomcupboard. It took a moment for the cogs to begin to click, of course, because Vernon was not overly bright. But after that, basic plots and plans began to form.

Petunia had said they would be forced to keep the 'thing', that 'They' were watching. That 'They' could hurt Dudley or them if they didn't listen to the warnings from the letter that had been delivered with the basket on that cold November morning. But... what if 'it' was on their side? What if the little beast... what if he trained it to love them? Yes, a family pet, really. Naturally, he'd have to take it firmly in hand, and teach it what was allowed. Not give it too much room to squirm.

But what if this arrangement didn't have to be a burden? What if it could be a benefit? The portly man heaved a great sigh as he tried to imagine how to use the boy. Petunia had mumbled things about controlling minds, and making things fly, making things appear, or disappear. Surely it couldn't be that hard for 'their' kind with training and incentive? If Vernon had to be stuck with 'it', he might as well make the most of it. He'd figure out how best to get 'it' to do it's strange business as they went.

Mind made up to at least attempt the training of the creature (whom he considered subhuman at best), he leaned into the darkness and took a breath. "Boy! Can you hear me?" Vernon barked with an air of blustering authority. Best to start of assuring the tot of who was boss, naturally.

There was a flicker of a shadow moving amongst the darkness inside the cupboard, and then light reflected off the strangest green eyes Vernon had ever seen. It was almost as though they were cat's eyes, or jewels, stones maybe? Or glass. For really, they reflected light oddly and gave an eerie green glow as they snapped open at his words. The eyes themselves seemed so... hard to Vernon. So old for a toddler to have, so very unnatural. But... perhaps this was normal for their kind?

Small, shuffling sounds could be heard and a small head full of tangled black curls leaned out to peer at the large man curiously, inspecting him. Vernon, feeling exposed, wondered if this was such a good idea. Nonsense, his Greed argued. Just be assertive! His Pride argued back.

The thing couldn't be much older than two and a half, close to three, around the age of his Dudders, Vernon recalled. Yet despite his small size he appeared older with such an intense green gaze. A small turned up nose, and a small pink mouth without expression on a tiny pale face. The only hindrance of his appearance, the lightning bolt scar running across his forehead from... the Accident. Aside from that, the stillness and uniqueness of his appearance, the suburban businessman was quite sure for a moment that his... nephew was actually an animated doll.

The 'thing' appeared to be deliberating, or studying him, and Vernon grew increasingly uncomfortable. The boy was simply too quiet! In the kitchen, Dudley squacked and squealed and Petunia soothed and cooed at him appropriately. After a such a long time, when Vernon had nearly forgotten that he had asked if the boy could hear him, suddenly the boy opened his mouth and answered, "...Yes." Just that one word.

Vernon was surprised. He had not expected a verbal answer, Dudley could barely speak at his age. And preferred to wail and wave, demanding things by pointing and throwing tantrums. A part of the large male was disappointed that the Thing was intelligent, but put it out of his mind. After all, this would make training it easier. "You will address me as 'sir' or 'master', do you understand?" Vernon began, towering over the Thing in the cupboard.

The creature in the cupboard debated less this time, though it still made no emotional response to his words. No fear, no flicker of recognition. Was it broken? Did it feel pain? Either way, it wasn't Vernon's business, and perhaps it'd be better this way.

After a moment, It merely parted it's lips to respond with a simple, "Yes, sir."

"Good," Vernon continued, choosing to ignore how intelligent the two year old seemed. After all, It was one of "those". Surely if he had anyone to ask (not that he would, or did), they would tell him that this was all normal? He'd best start the training of 'it' now, after all. "You will do everything I say, when I say it. You will use your... abilities, as I see fit. You do know what I mean by... abilities, yes?" Vernon paused, mustache twitching as he deliberated and the tot slowly nodded, before he continued. "After today you will move to Dudley's second bedroom. The... cupboard will only be a punishment for misbehavior. You will answer everything with a 'yes, sir' or a 'no, sir'. Do you understand?"

The boy blinked slowly, lids closing over those brightly luminescent eyes as he recited, "I will do as Sir says. I will use my Magic as Sir sees fit. I will be moved to Dudley's second bedroom, but the cupboard is for punishment if I have misbehaved. I will answer everything with a 'no sir' or a 'yes, sir'. Is that all, Sir?" It's head cocked to the side as it ticked off the things that Vernon had laid down, the basic rules of his upbringing.

Vernon was delighted that this was going so well, feeling his greed and pride bubbling in his chest. He'd finally get what he deserved! Why hadn't he thought of this months ago when he'd first gotten 'it'? No matter, no matter, he was doing it now.

"Nearly done," Vernon huffed a bit, feeling an urge to rock back onto the heels of his nice leather shoes, but holding himself in place. He was above such things, really. "When asked why you do things for your Aunt or myself, such as cleaning or cooking... you will respond with something appropriate... say..." Vernon paused, scrambling for something that wouldn't get him in trouble. After all, most first looks at 'it' couldn't tell that the boy wasn't normal. "You will say that you want to be a... butler. A gentleman's gentleman. Or something of the sort. We'll have to get you new clothes, perhaps a few suits to 'look the part'... and the doctor, of course... but you are to be on your best behavior. If you are good, you'll be rewarded. You may ask for favors, or small things, if you do as I ask or... preform tasks." The thought of saying the 'm' word still left a foul taste in his mouth. Strangely, saying that he'd give his nephew bribes, or rewards for doing magic did not make him feel dirty. When in reality, it should have. "Do we have an understanding, boy? Any questions?"

The boy nodded once before pausing. Vernon gently urged him to continue, trying to seem 'accomodating' now. After a few moments, the boy's small face tilted up into the light as he sat on the cot in the cupboard under the stairs. He spoke carefully, and for the first time, he wasn't repeating or answering what Vernon had said. "...What... is my name...Sir? I have forgotten."

Vernon blinked in bewildermint, and took a small step back, reaching up to straighten his tie as he racked his small brain. His wife called 'it' Boy, as did he for the past few months... how long had they had 'it', anyways? Since November... and it was nearly summer... Ahh, well. Had they really never called him by name? It was, after all, such a common name. Suppose 'they' had not wanted to sound like the freaks they were.

He supposed the boy wanted to know, as much as he was one of 'them', he was still quite young. However, he wouldn't allow 'it' to get ahead of itself and start building ideas. After a small deliberation, Vernon puffed up and blustered, "Your name, boy... is Harry. Harry Potter." The boy seemed to relax back onto the cot, but Vernon wasn't having that. "But here YOU will simply be my SHADOW. Nothing but my shadow. NOTHING! Do you hear? Following me, doing my bidding. Blending into the background, as shadows do. You are my Shadow!"

Like a strung bow, the boy, Harry seemed to tremble for a moment and with each word he seemed to jerk a bit. His eyes seemed a bit brighter with each proclamation, before he settled back. He seemed deflated, as though all the air had gone out of him, and he closed his eyes for a moment. For half a moment, Vernon felt guilty about stripping a human being's identity, before he ruthlessly squashed it behind his greed and desire for power. "Shadow!" He repeated, wanting to drive the point home.

The boy shuddered one last time, then nodded, slowly opening his eyes, and smiling softly at the looming form of his Uncle. "Harry Potter... Harry... is a Shadow.... sir," He dutifully repeated.

Mister Dursley, at Number Four Privet Drive, would not realize for many years what he had done. And by then, it would be too late. Far too late for him. And far too late for the world.
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[[ Ahh, dropping hints already! Many of the things, although alternate universe, are backed up by Harry Potter canon. Perhaps, if asked nicely, I shall elaborate or explain before things are shown? Well, you know what to do! ]]
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Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness