Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Cracked	By : Mermaid-in-a-Manhole Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 43538 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters within that universe, and I am not receiving any money for my fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
A/N: The last chapter, an epilogue, is here. Thank you to everyone who liked and commented on my work, and all 111k of my readers across my three profiles on here, adult-fanfiction.org, and hpfanficarchive. This is my shortest chapter, unfortunately, and not everyone will like the way I end it, but I felt this was the only way my Harry could end things and still live up to Dragen's Slave challenge ending.
***
Harry had been having fun for the past three weeks. Hermione was all over him when they were out in public, but respectfully submissive when they were alone. He had shown her his collection of slaves a week ago, and she had been horrified at first. Then, he'd backhanded her and stood over her cowering form. "Little slut, you mean nothing to me," he said, lacing his voice with magic and pushing his commands into her brain. "All you are is a cover for my illegal activities, but that won't stop you from loving me; nothing will. You will worship me for the rest of your life, and while I may hurt you, sometimes more than you think you can bear, you will never leave me. I will never let you leave me… not alive, anyway. You are superior to my slaves, but only in terms of your privileges as my fiancee, and then wife. You may not ever speak to, or communicate in any other way with them.
Harry started to pace in front of her as he laid down the law. "You will receive an allowance to purchase anything superficial you want, such as clothes, shoes, manicures, hairdos, accessories, and massages, so long as you portray the image of the faithful, carefree wife of a rich Lord of multiple houses. You will never have a job, instead you will take care of my slaves, my children, and my pets.
"While in school, you must still achieve your normal standard of grades, and I expect you to talk to McGonagall about Ron's, Malfoy's, and Parkinson's behaviour last year as prefects. Especially since Parkinson will not be found anywhere on the train to do her rounds. If you can, get at least Ron demoted — Neville would do far better as prefect now he's got some courage. Act happy and loving when in public or when anyone who isn't in the know might overhear, and submissive to me when not. You may even express some of your well-known bossiness when in public. In addition, I expect you to be on the lookout for any girls or women you think may be of interest to me, and if I give my permission, you are to pull them in and make them receptive to me. When you think they're ready, get a hangman's bracelet and give it to them."
Harry, now finished with his speech, took her chin in his hand and made her look at him. "Do you understand, little slut?"
"Yes, master," she said in a small voice.
"Good," he said, "because you see, I worked very hard to brainwash you the way I did, slowly revealing the whore buried deep within you. Now… well, now you’re not a person, are you? You’re just a collection of fuckoles, and you’ll never feel more at peace with what you are than when you're on your knees, my cock down your throat, balls slapping against your chin while you powerlessly look up at me. That is your future. Well, that and being the vapid blonde bimbo on my arm when I have an event to go to. Get used to the idea and you may find peace with it eventually."
*
Today was the day they returned to Hogwarts, and Harry was happily excited. The plan for the day was to go on the Express, endure the Welcoming Feast, and then sneak out of Hogwarts after everyone had gone to bed. Tonight was the night that Voldemort would die, along with all his followers. It was still up in the air as to whether Harry would stay in Britain after that; it all depended on what Dumbledore would do this year.
When he, Hermione, and the Weasleys arrived at King's Cross Station at 10:50 a.m. on September 1st, he desperately wanted to cackle at the sight of a desperate Lucius Malfoy speaking to Bertrandus Nott, who looked equally desperate and bedraggled, while their now illegitimate sons, Draco and Theodore, tried to look stoic in their own bedraggled robes.
He smiled when he spotted small clusters of parents around the station, eyeing the two formerly noble patriarchs of their families. From his research and Voldemort's memories, he knew that those clusters were populated almost entirely by Death Eaters or Dark Supporters. Carefully, he walked around each cluster of people and placed a time-delayed, disillusioned, powerful grenade into each of their pants pockets. It was set for eight at night, when they were sure to be having dinner with their partners, and not in a meeting with Voldemort. Lastly, Harry put on his cloak and snuck grenades into Lucius, Bertrandus, Draco, and Theodore's pockets. It was amazing that the concept of pick-pocketing or planting evidence hadn't occurred to purebloods yet.
All too soon, the train conductor signalled for ten minutes to go, so Harry went back to his friends and followed them into a train compartment. However, Ron and Hermione left for the Prefect compartment very quickly, so Harry was left behind with Neville, Ginny, and Luna. It wasn't too bad, really, and at least he got some pretty birds to stare at. Both Ginny and Luna had filled out beautifully over the summer, but it was Luna that captured his attention. Ginny was far too headstrong and dominant for his tastes, and though it would be a pleasure to break someone that strong, he knew that she would end up looking like her mother in the end.
Luna, on the other hand, looked like she could almost be Astoria Greengrass' twin sister, and he did love the time he spent with that girl. He was getting hard just thinking about watching Luna and Astoria going at it in the corner of the room while he used some other whore to satisfy his needs. He supposed he'd have to see about kidnapping Luna at some point and making her his slave. Simple, he just had to get one of his necklaces around her neck and she was his for the taking.
As the train journey went on, however, Harry could feel what was left of his sanity slipping away in the face of Slughorn's constant questioning of the night his parents died, and his fame, and the prophecy, and blah, blah, blah. When the man moved on to someone else, Harry realised that he didn't want to have to put up with any of the things that Hogwarts would bring. He already had his OWLs, so he was legally allowed to leave Hogwarts, he was emancipated, with two Lordships which he didn't give a flying fuck about, he had his apparition licence, and with Voldemort soon to be dead, he didn't think he could be bothered to go through the monotony of school if he couldn't get 24/7 access to his slaves.
As he returned from Slughorn's little lunch, his mind spinning with how much he didn't want to be here, he knew coming up with an alternate plan was in order. The plan would have to severely shock all of magical Britain and cause them to be totally discombobulated. He pondered his problem all throughout the rest of the trip, mostly ignoring everything that happened around him, but it wasn't until he was sitting at the Gryffindor table, staring at Dumbledore, that he knew what he wanted to do.
He kept his Normal-Harry mask on for the rest of the feast, and managed to stay in character all the way to his dorm room. He cast a tempus and was relieved when it was only six thirty-five at night. Without further ado, he slipped out of bed once he heard everyone's snores, fetched his Firebolt and the spare necklaces Nymph had made, shrunk his trunk down, opened the window, and leapt out. It was a freezing cold night, yes, but what he was about to do was more than worth braving the cold.
He flew to McGonagall's window, opened it, and snuck inside. He took his dagger from its sheath on his calf, crept into her bedchamber, petrified her, and slit her throat. As she gargled on her own blood and looked at him with panicked eyes, Harry enlarged his trunk and started dumping everything in the room that looked useful inside. He magically searched the room, looking for secret rooms or safes, but found none. Then he left the way he came, leaving the cooling dead body of his father's favourite teacher behind.
His next stop was the Gryffindor girl's dorms, where he methodically worked through each year, taking the girls he liked the look of after placing a controlling necklace around their necks. Then, he systematically murdered each and every adult in the castle, stole what belongings of theirs he desired, and kidnapped the girls he wanted from each house. Finally, covered in blood and with an insane glint in his eye, he took all the dead teachers and set them up in their chairs in the Great Hall. Everyone who had survived his purge would be quite traumatised, he was sure.
He left the grounds, still on his broom, and apparated away to where he knew Voldemort was hiding, the moment he felt he had left the wards. He dismounted carefully, covered himself with his trusty cloak, and entered the mansion. Knowing Voldemort as well as he did, he knew the monster had almost certainly commandeered the master bedroom for himself. He smiled grimly when he saw the snake curled up in front of the fireplace, and snuck over to her. When he was a foot from her, she stirred, so he quickly cast a silencing bubble around the two of them before using the dagger to slice her head clean off.
Once the screaming of the horcrux inside her had ceased, he cancelled the spell and snuck up on the sleeping Tom Riddle. Another silencing charm later, he pulled out his Beretta and shot the man, point blank, in the head. "Looks like the power you know not is modern Muggle weapons, Tom," Harry joked to the corpse. It didn't answer, but then again he didn't expect it to. He made a portkey to the Ministry atrium which would activate at ten the next morning, and placed it on Tom’s chest.
He went out the front door after he'd purloined everything useful from the majority of the house, skipped past the ward boundary, and cast tempus once again. He watched with a calm he hadn't known he possessed as the time turned to exactly eight p.m. Then, while Death Eaters and Dark Supporters all over Britain were exploding, Harry activated the portkey around his neck and disappeared to a moving tropical island somewhere in the Atlantic, never to be seen or heard from in Britain again.
*
Harry watched from afar how Wizarding Britain coped with the actions of his madness, and was pleased. There was widespread terror and anarchy for a whole decade after his disappearance; the goblins had left them to their squalor, the ministry had been dismantled by angry mobs, and Diagon Alley was now a graveyard. He had been slightly surprised when Fred and George Weasley had managed to get into contact with him through his whore house in the Hebrides, which he still regularly visited.
The twins had begged him to help them start anew in a different country, and had informed him that Britain was now somewhat operating under a feudal system and the Weasley family had somehow managed to wedge themselves into the bottom rung of the social system. Mrs Weasley was keeping Mr Weasley under powerful love potions to keep him happy with her. Bill was safe in France with his wife, Fleur, who had discovered that her sister had been kidnapped after visiting her parents in New Zealand, and still believed Gabrielle was out there somewhere. Harry had debated whether to enslave her as well, but eventually decided that watching from afar as her misery and hopelessness destroyed her was better than having her as a second mature Veela slave. Besides, Cow and her daughters were more than enough for him in that regard.
Charlie had been called back to England because of his status as a Weasley and had been forcefully married three years ago to Millicent Bulstrode, whose family was socially superior to the Weasleys'. Ron had dutifully married a girl called Romilda Vane after he'd gotten her pregnant during a one night stand. Ginny had been forced by her mother to drop out after finishing her OWLs and marry Michael Corner. Fred and George had been married to Angelina and Alicia, respectively, but the two women had died in childbirth, along with their babies, nearly a year ago, and their mother had recently started nagging them about getting new brides.
Their joke shop had failed, they had fifty galleons in total to their names, and had desperately needed to get out of the country. Harry had been their last hope, because the rest of Europe wanted nothing to do with magical Britain and had closed their magical borders. The only ones getting through to Europe were Muggleborns who were too young to know about magic, or had chosen to go to a school other than Hogwarts.
Harry had simply blinked and asked, "What makes you think I owe you anything so momentous that I would do something like that for you? I haven't been in Britain for ten years; I have over a hundred gorgeous slaves who provide me with everything I could ever want, I have countless children who will soon be old enough to spread throughout the world and carry on my legacy, and millions of galleons to spend on whatever I fancy.
"When you last saw me, I was wearing a mask, one I haven't had to wear for ten years . You decided to stay in Britain when it was falling apart, you didn't complete your NEWTs, which could have let you get other jobs after your shop failed, and you are the ones who don't have the spines to stand up to your mother about still being in mourning, or hand her in to your feudal Lord for using what I assume are illegal potions. I am sorry that your lives did not turn out the way you wanted, and I am sorry your wives and children died — I cannot imagine how terrible that must have been for you, as I have been blessed with healthy pregnancies and births thus far. I am afraid that you two will have to leave the premises, and I will inform my receptionist not to allow you entry if I am in a publicly accessible area. Good day."
The looks on their faces would have been heartbreaking, had Harry not cracked all those years ago. Harry's heart had died that day, and after ten years away from the nonsense of British magical people, he had mentally cut all ties to his former life long ago. Now, as he made his way to his personal suite, ready for a nice, long torture session, followed by some fucking, Harry could afford to say he was happy with his life. He may be a self-serving, sadistic, hedonistic, slave-owning, incest-loving monster, but — wait, why was he even bothering to validate his actions when he'd already perfectly described his reasoning?
Sanity was overrated anyway.
- 9
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