Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Nemesis	By : morilin Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 10368 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these fictions.

Chapter List
- 1-Nemesis
- 2-The Last Step
- 1
- 2
Chapter Two: The Last Step
It was a long time before Harry saw anyone else after Bellatrix left, stomping away angrily in her high heels. He was left alone, pitifully curled up in a pool of water mixed with his own blood, sobbing softly at the agony flaring through his body with every beat of his heart.
His body was a wreck. One dislocated and swollen shoulder, his wrist limp and numb with fingers still occasionally convulsing, the encompassing cold of the room seeping into his very bones and setting white-hot flares of pain throughout his body. It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse; at least with the Cruciatus, it was a continuous stream of pain that an experienced person could block out. This was different. Intermittent sharp jolts made blocking all but impossible as the agony would fade for a while, only to come back full force just when he was lulled into a false sense of security. His mouth felt disgusting, the metallic tang of blood sharp on his tongue.
And the smell, flowing all around him in a haze of blood and pain.
When I get free, when I am powerful enough, they all will pay.
But until then, he drew his thoughts, his remaining magic, and what little faith he still held, and waited.
Where are Fred and George?
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE CAN’T SEARCH FOR HIM?” A slightly hoarse voice screamed. Sirius stood in the kitchen of his inherited home, face flushed angrily as his gaze remained locked on the other at the kitchen table.
Severus stood off in a corner where he could see everyone around him, his arms crossed with a small smirk on his face as he watched Black finally find his spine that went missing nearly two decades ago.
Sirius stood hunched over the table, silver-gray eyes bloodshot as he shrieked himself voiceless, and yet Dumbledore still remained emotionless, the typical twinkle in his eyes lost an hour ago. He sat calmly at the head of the dinner table, fingers laced together, forefingers tapping in a way that was making Severus slowly start twitch where he stood, long fingers tapping at his elbows the only outward sign of his growing irritation at the elderly wizard.
“Exactly as I have said, Sirius,” Dumbledore told the near-hysterical man calmly, blue gaze serene.
“We do not have the time, nor the manpower to start such a massive search for the poor boy. Severus has told us that Voldemort had never ordered such an attack so we can only hope that it was a third party –”
“Yeah, right,” George butted in angrily from where he sat to Sirius’ left. He was slouched in his seat, limp and pale with bags under his eyes, his brother clinging onto his other side like a lifeline. “Like Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband are going to break away from Voldemort and work as a third party. Macnair, now that I can see happening, but not her.” Fred drooped listlessly beside his brother without a word, head bowed. Dumbledore gave the teens a once-over, and then turned away from them without a word. George sneered at the blatant dismissal, rolling his eyes when the elderly wizard had his back turned.
“He does have a point, Headmaster,” Snape started slowly. “We all know the boy has a major role to play in this war, so why leave him out of our reach? I have contacts who can tell me where Bellatrix is, I could find him easily –” A screech not unlike that of a banshee cut him off making Severus pause in slight alarm, letting out a sigh as he turned to the source of the noise, raising an eyebrow as he did.
“The Headmaster’s already spoken!” Molly shouted as she rounded on Severus. The adult wizard blinked as she unexpectedly got up in his face. “Stop making things harder on my children! Harry’s beyond us now.” Severus, Sirius, and George gaped at her in alarm, George blinking in confusion. Fred continued staring at the ground, seemingly oblivious to the commotion around him.
“Mum, if I was taken you would have risen hell, fire, and brimstone to find me! Why is Harry any different? Isn’t he your honorary seventh son?” Molly turned away as Severus’ gaze turned flat, sneering.
“Once a Pureblood in truth, no matter how you live your life, always a Pureblood in mind,” he muttered viciously. Sirius snarled wordlessly at the woman, smirking when she colored, raising her hands as if to ward off a blow. Severus chuckled mirthlessly as Molly’s face darkened still.
“Don’t you dare start to berate me, Severus!” she said, crossing her arms under her breasts defensively. Severus rolled his eyes.
“I have no need to.” He told her, leaning back against the wall of the kitchen; arms crossed “You do it well enough on your own.” Molly sputtered, while Sirius finally shook his head, pressing both hands onto the table as he leaned forward.
“Is he not your precious savior?” Sirius hissed to the Headmaster, eyes flashing with his pent-up emotions. “If Harry bloody Potter is that unimportant, then let me go! I am of no value to you sitting here, so I will look for him. He’s been gone for eleven days now! If they wanted to ransom him it would be done already, and if he were dead we would know.” Sirius shivered as he spoke those last terms, mouth twitching as Dumbledore closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head at the younger man’s words. Severus watched as Sirius slowly colored, left fist clenching until he stood tall, smashing his hands onto the table, the noise startling everyone around them.
“Fine then.” he started, tone carefully blank. Severus looked to the man in trepidation, his spine tingling at the rise of magic in the air. He could not help but watched the Azkaban escapee with apprehension, remembering the one time he had made his magic rise in hair-tingling waves in the past – just like now.
Walburga had never been sane after Sirius Black finally lost control of his temper for real and paid her back what she was due. The event was noisy, very public to the dark community, and the only reason Sirius had been left alone after he had left his home at the age of sixteen. Shaking his head at the cluelessness of the others around himself, Severus backed away from the shaking figure, pulling his wand free. Soon, he realized that he should not have wasted the movement.
In a move faster than most could see, Sirius pulled a dagger free of his clothing, turning it on himself. Before anyone could say a word, he had carved a rune deep into his forearm, making the air around him pulse with unchecked magic.
“You, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Lesser Dumbledore Lord have decreed to not assist me, Lord Sirius Orion Black, Baron Black in the return of my son, Adrian Evans Orion Black.” Silence spread through out the room. Unseen, a smile slowly grew on Fred’s face, which was still bowed to the floor, as the magic of the house awoke around him. Sirius had finally assumed his true role, calling on the house magicks, the air coming alive in response to its master’s summons.
“He is not your son,” Albus spoke slowly, rising from his seat as he too called upon his own magic. Sirius sneered, the look on his face shocking everyone around them.
“It may not have been my seed that created him, but he is my son by blood. Last year I adopted him Dumbledore, completely, legally by magic and blood. He is my Heir in everything, and thus I can banish you from this House of my Forefathers. You willingly, repeatedly tell me no when I seek help in finding my Heir?” The magic in the air flashed black and silver. A plainly obvious warning, yet one that Dumbledore did not heed.
“You cannot be serious! You would leave the Order of the Phoenix without a Headquarters?”
“No, you jackass, you have left your dumbass Order of Fucking half-wit Flying Chickens without a Headquarters! You should have always thought ahead with things as important as this! You are the leader, stupid, start acting like it and take care of your soldiers!” Dumbledore stared Sirius in the eye, evidently not finding what he liked, for a switch seemed to flip in his attitude.
“You will not do this!” Dumbledore snapped, magic lashing out, hovering over his limbs as if the man was barely holding back.
Sirius laughed darkly at the words before growling at the elderly man. “Out of my house now! You and all loyal to you but not the Blood of this Ancient and Most Noble House of Black!” The doors of the house burst open at his words. One second the room was filled with people standing up, eyes wide in shock, the next they were gone, save for Dumbledore. He was standing, albeit slowly being inched back towards the front door, his eyes nearly glowing with anger as he tried to stop his forced ejection.
“You don’t know what rituals you invoke Sirius,” he thundered, his voice in the tone of a low growl, something no one alive had heard before.
“I know exactly what the hell I’m doing old man. You were once let into this house on the terms of an Alliance with the House of Black, Dumbledore, or did you never realize the words invoking a ritual I used when you first stepped into these halls? Flat-out telling me you refuse to help me or even let me go look for my child is the one way to destroy every treaty between us.” Before anyone else could speak, Dumbledore’s face had morphed into a hideous snarl.
“I’ll have you in Azkaban before you can blink!” Sirius grinned darkly, pulling his wand free to hold it beside his face as he slowly followed Dumbledore’s tortured steps towards the door. Each movement cost Dumbledore as he tried to stop himself, eyes locked onto the Black Lord as the man used his advantage of being on his own soil to boost his magic.
“You’d have to catch, heh find me first.” Unwilling to waste any more of his magic, Dumbledore let himself fly out the house, the doors slamming shut behind him. One moment he could see the house vibrating with magic, the next it vanished, Grimmauld Places 11 and 13 sliding back into place.
The house was gone.
“What…?” Dumbledore stumbled back onto his feet, eyes wide. All around him, in various states of unconsciousness or disorder laid his followers, moaning and cursing. He could feel no magic, could see no sign that the house ever existed, when before he could always feel the magic flowing in giant spirals around the invisible manor.
It had vanished.
Everyone around him jumped as the elderly man let out a scream of outrage.
Inside the house, Sirius spelled his mother’s mouth off and leant back against the door, breathing out a long sigh.
“I’m surprised that actually worked, Black.” Severus sneered darkly from where he stood in the kitchen doorway. Sirius looked at him blankly, raising an eyebrow calmly at him.
“And I’m surprised that you are still here and not out on your ass with the rest of the lackeys. A Death Eater in truth?”
Severus cringed, the movement so foreign to Sirius’ eyes, he could only blink as Severus slowly shook his head. “Never was,” the spy replied softly. “Took the Mark for Dumbledore. Learned it was best to play both sides if I wanted to survive. Having more than one… or two masters is the best way for a spy to survive.”
“More than two…” Sirius repeated, trailing off as something struck him. “You’re Harry’s Slytherin Friend, the one who “rebuilt the bridge to sneakiness?” I should have known.” Severus rolled his eyes with smirk, finally sitting at the table as Sirius did so.
All that was left in the room were himself, Severus, the twins, and a few unexpected others.
“Good to know that we have some allies without strings,” George chuckled as he spoke, a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Now then. Let’s make a plan, shall we?”
Hours later found George lying down on his right side on the bed he and Fred shared, sound asleep, exhausted by the drama that had occurred. The two twins were pressed together with George’s head at the headboard, Fred’s head buried into his abdomen with his arms wrapped around George’s waist. George’s own hands were curled loosely near his face, limp.
The potion that had so drastically changed his appearance was thankfully only semi-permanent. The counter-potion had been administered, allowing his natural looks to be seen. Red hair flowed over the elder twin’s face and around his head, contrasting heavily against the white sheets.
Scenes from the fighting flashed before Fred’s eyes, George attacking any and all around him with a cruel smile on his face, reveling in the screams…
That deeply sadistic smile that always graced Damien’s face when The Three Horror’s walked a battle field, Torture twirling where he stood, amber eyes alight with bloodlust and glee, always sent a flash of heat though Fred’s body, and even though tragedy had struck, his body pulsed, heartbeat thick on his tongue, the urge to make George scream high, so very high…
George panted underneath Fred’s body, writhing at the painful pleasures racing though his body invoked by Fred’s ever moving hands…
Unconsciously following the memory as it played in his mind’s eye, Fred slowly rose onto his arms, glazed orbs snapping back into reality as the redhead let out a soft moan, the arousing sight before his eyes only deepening his arousal, and fell back onto the bed by George’s side, curling his hands at his twin’s neck, idly tracing the barely-visible veins underneath.
They’ve taken Harry from us, he thought slowly, eyes caressing his twin’s pale form If they would take him, the one Voldemort whom has declared his alone to kill… then what stops them from kidnapping and torturing anyone else in the Order? Fred backed up slightly, staring thoughtfully at his unconscious brother as he made up his mind. He quietly spelled their clothes away, and then cast his normal cocktail of spells on the room, sticking a finger into his mouth as he did so.
Once the appendage was shiny with spit, he gently rolled his brother over and pressed the finger against his asshole, nipping at the other’s lower back. George jerked, eyes fluttering with a soft moan and Fred froze, watching the other shift slightly in his sleep then settle back down, his head buried into the pillows.
Working slowly, Fred slid his finger through the tight ring of muscles, George slowly hardening at the treatment but remaining asleep. His twin’s sleep ridden moans like a drug to his senses, causing that familiar warmth to start to pool at Fred’s lower belly.
After a few moments of the torture for the both of them, Fred, two fingers up his brother’s ass now, found that one spot, and pressed. George’s eyes snapped open as he jerked awake, instinctively rising onto his hands and knees muttering incoherently as he shuddered. Fred rose with him, curling his hand to keep a single finger pressed against George’s prostate, his middle finger slowly stroking his walls, and thumb pressed against where his butt met his back, the nail biting into the skin. George let out a soft noise that turned into a surprised whine as his body moved against the stimulus and then fell limp, quivering.
After a few moments Fred pulled away from George’s prostate, letting George fall back onto his back and blink rapidly in confusion while Fred removed his hands.
“Fred?” he murmured, turning his head to look at his twin, sleepy eyes glazed. Fred hummed, sticking a pillow under George’s lower back as the half-asleep teen simply watched him, still blinking lethargically. “Wha’chu doing?”
Fred looked at him, tilting his head as he moved forward on his hands and knees to hover over the teen, a hand idly shifting red locks onto the pillow. George blinked up at him sluggishly, making a soft noise of confusion when the other redhead drew him into a harsh kiss. George had half a mind to let Fred do whatever he wanted, but as he gripped the back of his brother’s head tightly, fingers fisted into the fine strands of hair, something just did not feel… right.
“Wait… a sec…” George panted, pulling Fred away from his face by the back of his head. Fred shook his head wordlessly. “No, this… doesn’t feel right, Fred…” Fred finally backed away, sitting on George’s waist.
“Don’t worry about it.” Fred muttered dismissively, rolling them until George was on his side, Fred with a hand at his ear. George blinked, his slowly clearing gaze locked on Fred, only to throw back his head with a gasp when Fred dipped his head down, tongue lapping at his brother’s cock. Fred continued to lick like a cat with a bowl of cream until George was moaning beside him, breathing heavily and dick hard with both hands gripping the sheets under him head tossing from side to side, and then took the head into his mouth, biting at the tip softly, right at that spot. George’s eyes snapped open again as he let out a heartfelt moan, blinking rapidly as he fought to think.
“Wha-” He never got the word out completely as Fred chose that moment to suck him down whole, rolling them over in the process so that George lay on his back, one hand fisted onto the sheets, the other clenched onto Fred’s hair as he let out another low moan. “Fre… Fred what ahhhoh, do that again! Mmm… Fred, what the fuck?” Fred hummed around the erection in his mouth in response, pulling another short inarticulate cry from George’s lips.
The elder twin just let himself breathe for a few moments, basking in the feel of that wonderful mouth around him, and then reluctantly gripped Fred’s hair with both hands, gently pulling him up and off of himself. “Not that I don’t love it when you suck me off, Brother-o-mine, but is this the best time?” Fred started to shake his head in silent protest, burying his nose into George’s neck as he wrapped his arms around George’s neck, their legs intertwined. George had to forcibly stifle a moan when Fred pressed his knee against his length, knowing that the other did it on purpose.
“If not now, then when?” George blinked at the question, preoccupied with the knee slowly, agonizingly rolling along his length. “They took Harry, George, Harry Potter! We all know that Voldemort has marked Harry as only his to kill, and yet they still took him! If they are willing to torture Harry, what about the rest of us?” Fred did not give George a chance to formulate a response, nipping at the skin before him. George’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Fred applied pressure to the sensitive spot on his collarbone, that one place that made his body writhe. “I want to make as many memories as possible, before something happens.” He shifted his hips against George’s length, smiling lightly as George finally moaned again, allowing himself to buck upwards.
“I… guess I… understand.” George finally panted, voice choked with emotion, both hands digging into Fred’s scalp. Fred ground their hips together again before dipping downwards, intent on finishing what he had started.
“Good. Now stop complaining.” Fred moved as he spoke, pulling another cry from George’s lips as he slowly shifted their cocks together, one hand on the back of George’s neck, the other reaching downward to press against George’s lower back. He then paused, freezing. George cried out at the loss of stimulus, removing his hands to his own hair.
He hated it when Fred paused like this, slowly thinking of what to do next, and he knew better than try to speed things up.
The first time he had tried that, Fred had left him with a hard-on for an hour, tied to the bed while his brother jerked himself off in front of him the very sight of his brothers pleasure flushed face sending bolts of warmth up his spine.
Fred shifted then, shaking his head as though to clear his mind as he turned glowing eyes on George, letting out a smirk.
George had a moment to recognize the look before Fred’s magic flooded his senses, the feeling of magic so similar to his own and yet so different sending shocks of pleasure racing up and down his body He threw his head back, a gasp escaping his throat while his spine arched, lifting his body off the bed.
“Merlin, Fred!” The teen in question hummed at that, sending his magic into his brother again, only focusing on those special places, collarbone, lower back, his oh-so-sensitive inner elbows… and watched George scream, eyes shut as the euphoria flooded though him, and then George fell limp, panting harshly. “Damn it Fred, stop playing with me!” Fred smirked, forcing George to sit up, planting his ass on George’s lap. The elder teen let out a moan, going limp as Fred straddled him, shoving his tongue down his throat.
KNOCK KNOCK
Fred jumped, turning to the door as George let his head hit the headboard, biting his lip to stifle another moan as Fred moved his ass against him, shifting to fully face the door.
“What is it?” The silencing spell that had been cast on the room was special, enabling Fred to hear anything outside the door, but no one could hear what was going on inside. When Fred concentrated on speaking to them, however, they could hear him.
“We have a guest you two want to meet.” Fred huffed, twisting his body around and bending down to lick at George’s nipple. Never be it said that Fred is easily distracted.
“Right now isn’t the best time,” Fred told the voice dryly. The man chuckled as a flash of magic erupted though the room, forcing a hiss out of Fred as George bucked, just barely stopping himself from coming.
“I’m sure you can finish your fun quickly now.” Fred let out a snarl, George whimpering pitifully at the sound. Fred rarely lost his temper, but the one time he did… George whimpered again at the thought. The voice laughed again, and then another knock echoed though the room.
“Hurry up now…”
Harry shifted from on his side into a slouched sitting position, watching as the door opened. Rodolphus came in, his face blank. A box – not the one from before – this one a creamy white with a red cross on its top floating behind him. The teen looked at him for a moment as the Lestrange Lord closed the door behind him, and then let himself fall back onto the floor, eyes closed. Rodolphus looked at him for a moment, and then sighed, conjuring a table underneath Harry again.
Harry stiffened as he found himself higher in the air sitting up in alarm, eyes wide as he looked about himself, weary.
“I’m going to bind your hand up. No more, no less.” Pain filled eyes focused on him.
“The wrist is ruined.” Harry stated, voice dull as he stared at the man. “Why bother?”
Rodolphus raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to permanently lose the limb?”
Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. “Why do you even care? Your wife has no problems with what she’s done, she’s only mad that she lost the game.” Rodolphus shook his head, waving his wand as Harry’s limp wrist slowly rose, circles of black magic flowing around the limb.
“As her husband… I owe you an apology, if not from her, then from me. I dislike torture, so very messy.”
Harry snorted in reply, watching as bandages started to unroll from the box, winding around his fingers and down his wrist. “Then tell me what the fuck you cursed me with using those daggers of yours.”
Rodolphus paused, the bandages stopping down Harry’s forearm then flashing a dull silver as they finished, the feel of them hardening. The man shook his head, pulling away after tapping his wand experimentally against the bandages, smirking at the sound of wood against metal.
“Good. There. These are medicated bandages, made for those whom can’t stop to heal a wound properly. This isolates the wound and prevents the injury from getting worse while boosting the body’s natural ability to heal what it binds. A healing spell made to remove the dead skin from burns should remove it.” He turned away. Harry gripped his wrist, blinking.
It feels like steel… He closed his eyes, spitting out as the door opened, “I’m still going to kill you for this. Now it just won’t be so messy.” Rodolphus chuckled, a deep belly laugh that seemed to echo around the room as the heavy door slammed shut behind him.
If he had looked around, that laugh would have faded to nothing while he looked into Death’s eyes.
“You seem in high spirits.” Macnair paused before he crossed the threshold of what they called the Many Doors Room, the doors spelled to take you wherever you wanted in the mansion. the only way to get to the mansion’s dungeons was to already know they existed.
Lucius Malfoy reclined regally on one couch, smirking with a single eyebrow raised knowingly at the animal executioner.
“Of course I am,” Macnair declared, his tone ‘duh’ to the Lord of the House. “And you know exactly why.” Malfoy’s smirk widened.
“Yes…that I do.” He paused for a moment, eyeing the crystal upon his cane before throwing out the next sentence almost absentmindedly. “The items that you ordered have arrived. They are awaiting your appraisal in your rooms.” Macnair blinked, and then a smile slowly grew on his face as he continued on his way, chuckling.
Malfoy watched him leave, and then turned to the crystal, eyeing the magicks he could only see inside of it, where his gaze fixed itself on a single hunched over character.
“And they thought they could hide what they did to him from me. No matter… I approve completely.”
Macnair walked into the chambers where he had left his young captive, smirking.
The young and innocent are always the most amusing to break.
A quick charm had the boy truly unconscious and Macnair strolled over to him, kicking Harry over until he was flat on his back as he looked the young flesh over.
He’s still mostly whole physically…can’t say anything for his mind though. Squatting beside the boy, he pressed the tip of his wand against the limp penis with a single word, twirling it so that a ribbon slowly wound itself in place at the tip.
Number one on the list, ribbon. Check. Number two on the list… He stood while muttering under his breath, creating manacles bolted to the floor and slipping the pale wrists into them. Another manacle at his waist to keep him still, and still others at the feet, with a four foot slack – keeping him still. Check. Number three on the list, find every single spot. Macnair pressed his wand against Harry’s chest, whispering, “Flekker av Tur.[Romanian: Spots of Pleasure]” In stark contrast against white skin, flares of red appeared all along his neck, shoulders, the inner part of his wrist, his inner knees, and his earlobes. Macnair smirked. Perfect. He’s so very sensitive…
“Antennes. [Romanian: Ignite]” Harry jerked, eyes opening for a brief moment before they fell closed, entire body twitching as the teen tried to roll over. Macnair watched with a smirk as the teen slowly grew erect, moaning, though he was still unconscious.
“Okay, one, two, three, oh shit, four. Care curge sânge. [Romanian: Flowing Blood]” With that done, Macnair smirked. “Good, don’t need you getting blue balls on me.” He knelt down by Harry’s head, leaning down to whisper into the teen’s ear “Wakie wakie, pretty Harry. Ennervate.” Harry started awake with a gasp, pupils dilated.
“Good morning Harry.” Harry closed his mouth, narrowing his eyes as his left hand clenched into a fist. “It’s my turn now, and because of Bella’s…accident, I get to have a week and a half with you. That changed my plans a great deal. Simply put, I’m going to leave you alone for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, then we get to play.” Macnair moved, using a hand to skim down Harry’s chest, pinching a nipple. Harry sucked in a breath but remained silent as Macnair stood, leaving without another word.
Harry blinked at the door in confusion, breath starting to come in short gasps as he twitched on the cold floor that did nothing to quell the small sparks pooling in his lower belly.
What… did he do to me? His whole body suddenly seemed to burn, creating a low hum of fire in his lower abdomen as if a switch was flipped. I’m stuck like this until he’s back tomorrow. He thought with sudden clarity, eyes widening. Slowly he drew his knees together, flexing both arms. A clank of metal was all he got for his troubles.
Fuck, shit, damnit all! His entire body felt like it was a bonfire, burning, burning, burning along with his lower abdomen that sent the blood racing through his veins in a play that sent his mind reeling.
Soon, he couldn’t think, could barely breathe though the inferno raging through him.
“Look what we have here, a lovely gift all wrapped up for me to play with.” Harry whimpered as something warm touched his cock, stroking the underside as a voice laughed above him. Slowly, he started to shake his head, whimpering.
The voice was wrong, the tone, the words, even the touch seemed to make him pull away as memories overlapped with what he had heard, cold dread trying to douse the flames of arousal. Macnair slowly pulled his blindfold free, smirking.
“Do you want something?” Did you like that, you little freak? Harry did not reply to either question, eyes closed and head turned to the side and the voice sighed, the air expelled caressing Harry’s chest, the shiver it created echoing down his spine. “Fine then.” You know you do whore! You’ll take all I throw at you and beg for more, don’t you, you stupid slut? The warmth around his cock increased in intensity, and then the hand gripped him hard, twisting his cock in a smooth movement that made Harry scream, the sound tapering off into a low sob.
“Tell me what you want, Harry.” But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you like everything I do. The teen whimpered as his cock was tortured slowly twisted back and forth, until he screamed out.
“I want you to leave me alone!” The warmth left him and Harry nearly took his words back as the voice turned cold.
“Who would have thought a day under constant pleasure wouldn’t be enough to break him.” A hand plugged his nose as liquid was poured down his throat, Harry drinking in hopes to relieve the burning.
Just get comfortable now… you won’t get the chance later.
It did not help. Instead, the burning only grew worse and Harry started to writhe in hopes to ease the painful pleasure scorching through him, until everything went dark.
Macnair watched as the boy’s movements slowed to a stop, lying lax where he was, chest heaving with pants.
Finally.
Kneeling down, Macnair conjured a mattress underneath them, making sure the limp hands were still bound to the floor. “Can you hear me?”
Harry licked his lips, eyes fluttering for a moment before blank eyes opened to stare at the ceiling mindlessly. “Yes.”
Macnair sniggered, pulling Harry’s legs up against his ass, baring the teen for Macnair to eye his new toy at his gratification. Slowly, he let his hands roam supple skin, before he pushed the soft cheeks back and thrust his finger inside, dry.
Green eyes went wide at the move, Harry’s body jerking away from the touch at first before Macnair twisted, nail scraping along his sides as he searched, Harry moaning in pain before he found that one spot and slammed against it ruthlessly, pulling a cry from the teen.
“There.” Instead of teasing the teen to death, poking and prodding that one place deep inside of him, he pressed against it, not letting up on the pressure while Harry tried to writhe, panting loudly and body twitching. Macnair watched it all with satisfaction as he pulled his finger away and licked it, his toy panting and his entire body shuddering with his eyes half open, glowing with mindless lust.
“Did that feel good, Harry?”
The teen’s mouth moved silently for a moment, before his voice came back. “Yes, but it’s too much.”
Macnair laughed, pulling Harry’s legs apart as wide as they would go and binding them securely before he shoved two fingers back inside the fluttering hole, relishing his instant screams. Seconds passed before Macnair triggered that place again, the screams of pain, too much pain, turning into pleasure, too much too much-
“Let. Me. Cum!” The words were shouted as Harry jerked against his bonds, the potion’s control over his mind slowly eroding away due to the signals of pain filled pleasure racing though his body
“Beg me,” Macnair demanded, twisting his fingers to bring a look of pain over Harry’s face.
“No!”
Macnair jerked his hand, forcing a cry from Harry’s throat. “Beg me, Harry, and I’ll do anything you ask.”
Harry let out a hysteria-twinged laugh at that, hands clenched hard enough to bring blood from self inflicted wounds.“Like…I could…believe…anything you say!”
Macnair allowed his own magic to flash over Harry’s skin as he screamed at the adult, and then he shrieked throwing his head back, spine trying to arch backwards as the spells on his body were removed, his eyes rolling in their sockets as he ejaculated instantly. Macnair watched the teen come hard, ropes of cum hitting the wall before him as Harry’s body went rigid, moments later finally falling limp as he panted, eyes fluttering, his hands groping for something to hold onto.
“And here you are still conscious, even after being denied release for over 24 hours.” The wizard grinned, standing up as groggy eyes focused on him.
“You relax while you can, Harry, I’ve got some toys for you.”
“You’re telling us the truth?” Sirius pressed, one hand wiping his face wearily.
“Why would I lie about something like this? Other people may have forgotten the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, but my people still remember the days when your blood was known as Death upon the Battlefield. That woman on Voldemort’s side has nothing on the true legacy of the Black Blood, which is something I have seen in your son. He is the key to defeating that madman, I know this.”
Silver-grey orbs stared into swirling gold, before Sirius sighed, nodding once in resignation. “And yet we only found you because you were pretending to be a human in the ranks of the Order.”
“If they could be fooled so easily, then they have no right to my abilities or knowledge.” The other stated frankly. “The moment Dumbledore was gone, both you and the Prince Heir noticed me, better than anyone whom followed him.”
Sirius nodded again, waving a hand in the air, the other crossed over his chest. “Run this over me one more time if you will, my mind is just not able to catch up at the moment.”
Lord Prince Sytou, an heir of the entire Vampiric nation nodded again, smirking. “I am a Prophet. Don’t mistake my kind for Seers, people like them are simply… hijacked by the higher powers and used to pass their words along, which you know as Prophecies. I can See anything I choose to, and remember it afterwards. Give me something tied to your son, and I will be able to link the item to him, and See what is happening to him at that very moment.” Sirius removed his hand from his face, eyeing their unexpected royal guest.
Sytou was lean and tall, standing eye to eye with the Black Lord. Dark skin rolled over defied muscles, arms not hidden by the shirtless simple blue tunic he wore, which fell over black trousers, leaving the vampire barefoot.
Very simple for the supposed second Vampire ever to be born in this world. Sytou smirked again, golden eyes showing an ancient knowledge that sustained his claim of being over three billion years old.
“Why help us?” Those swirling eyes seemed to glaze over at the question.
“While like I said my visions are completely voluntary… sometimes, like a normal Seer, a higher power… The Highest Power, The One, sends me visions. Your Adrian has a large part to play in not only this world, but in another, and if he dies, two dimensions will be thrown into Chaos. I have Seen this. He cannot die.” Sytou bowed his silver head, the long strands of hair bound low at his back however still fall past his waist even with that action. “So I will help you find him, and restore the Black name to how it should be remembered. This I can do, then I will not be able to interfere any longer.”
Sirius nodded, and then pulled his right earring off, tapping it. The gem grew in size until it fit into the palm of his hand, the top popping open. Inside the gem was a small stone, glowing with power. Sytou looked down at the small silver stone, and then looked at Sirius, raising a silver eyebrow.
“When I adopted him, our combined blood coalesced to form a small silver stone. He touched it and it reacted to his magic, creating what you see before you.” Sirius explained softly. Sytou nodded, touching the stone with a single finger.
Instantly, echoing within his mind, he heard a scream.
Macnair patted at his hands, eyeing his handy work.
Harry was yet again pinned to the ground, but in a very different way from before.
“I love my toys.”
Harry was blindfolded. A thick black leather choker encircled his neck, which in turn was attached to nipple clamps, metal lining all of it. Leather strips bound both hands behind the teen’s back, positioning him on the ground with his knees in the air and legs bound in place. The teen was twitching ever so lightly, a soft flutter here and there, but other than that, he could not move an inch.
“Do you like my toys?” He need not have bothered asking. Pale skin was flushed bright red, Harry’s face a mask of need and helplessness while Macnair slowly drew a finger over his asshole, teasing him. Macnair turned away from his bound captive, pressing a finger against the dial of a remote by his feet, turning it on.
Harry jerked, a whimper unwillingly torn from his throat, gritting his teeth as the vibrations all over his body intensified, focused at the sensitive spots at his neck, shoulders, balls, and lower back.
Macnair looked down at Harry, eyes bright as he watched the writhing teen, a smile slowly stretching over his face.
“You’ll last soo long, Harry,” he whispered, eyes clouding over with anticipation. “So many others broke after I first touched them, none have gotten this far… oh, I am going to milk as much out of you as I can. We’ll have so much fun together!” Large hands started kneading at Harry’s shoulders, slowly caressing red skin.
“I wonder if you have a lover? Someone who has started to teach you the ways of the body but hasn’t taken that last step… now you wish that they had, eh?” Hands were at Harry’s cock, slowly stroking the cage that encased his flesh, forcing it to remain lowered and limp.
“I want to…” Macnair shook himself, moving a hand to caress Harry’s ass almost reverently, “I want to just thrust up into you… but I can’t spoil the fun… no I can’t…”
Watching Harry as he shook deliciously, Macnair turned the dial up completely. Harry screamed when they both could hear the vibrations on his skin. Macnair grinned, turning his body slightly.
“Now where is it…ahah!” Macnair let a finger slowly trace up his last toy as he pulled the blindfold off the blinking boy, casting a spell on the item in his hand as he lowered the toy. “Întotdeauna de petrol. [Romanian: Always Oil]” He then shoved the dildo home, admiring the mechanics.
This one dildo was something he had custom-made especially for his fun, the end just like any normal dildo, but attached to a metallic arm that stuck to any surface available. With the metallic arm, the dildo was able to gain enough leverage to automatically thrust itself into whatever Macnair wanted, leaving him with both hands free. And that was not even the best part.
Harry cried out in shock when he felt the dildo slam into him, shuddering as his eyes rolled back, body trembling through a half orgasm that left everything sensitive in its wake.
“This is only part one Harry, part one. Here’s part two.” At the head of the dildo, Harry felt something pulse as Macnair pressed a button on the new remote in his hands, the nub vibrating in Harry’s ass in time with the toys on his body. The scream he got drew a dazed smile to his face.
“Flac�r�.[Romanian: Flame]” The dildo seemed to shiver then as it slowly thrust again back into Harry’s body, it was hot, burning hot, making Harry whimper torturously, fine tremors appearing on his skin.
“Înghe�. [Romanian: Frost]” The dildo suddenly went freezing cold, yanking a scream out of Harry as he shook, with his back arching frantically where he lay.
Macnair continued to shift back and forth between the two spells as the dildo did its work, driving Harry slowly up the wall until he was nearly begging for anything to make the pleasure spill over.
“Please.” Macnair blinked, removing his hand from his pants where he had been jerking off to the sight as he sat up slowly, shaking his daze away.
It had been nearly a day and a half of watching Harry writhe; a day and a half of shoving his hands down his pants as he jacked off many a time to the low whimpers, mewls, and cries that came from his captive. This was the first time that he had uttered a word.
“What was that, Harry?” The teen opened glazed-white eyes, panting harshly, his entire body red and shaking. Macnair pulled his pants down slightly, holding his erect cock in his hand.
“Let me cum, please!” Macnair smirked, letting a finger glide down Harry’s chest, stopping at the teen’s red penis, rattling the cage it was held in. Harry lost his breath, mouth going wide as he writhed, spine shuddering with every shake of the cage.
“Take it off, let me cum, please!” Macnair laughed, a deep rolling sound that seemed to echo, bouncing off of the stone walls. Not thinking of Harry’s comfort, he ripped the cage off, watching the teen harden instantly. He drew a finger up the hard flesh slowly, watching Harry’s face contort as he tugged the ribbon once again around his cock, jerking the fragile organ.
Harry let out a sobbing moan, bucking into Macnair’s hand.
“What do you want?” Harry shook his head, turning to look to the side, fist clenched and tears starting to fall. Macnair smiled, then let go, turning the still moving dildo off and putting the toy away to thrust into the teen himself.
“Say it,” he ordered, both hands on either side of Harry’s face to make the teen look him in the eyes.
“Let me cum,” Harry whispered, eyes going blank. “Please.”
Macnair moved, watching as Harry threw his head back, mouth opening wide as the hard flesh finally slammed home within him. The wizard smirked slowly, raising his wand to Harry’s throat.
“Furtul de nevinov��ie,” He murmured softly, watching the wand tip flash an amber-tinted red while finishing the spell. “Pierderea vederii. [Romanian: Theft of Innocence, Loss of Sight]” Harry screamed, this time in pain as the spell flowed over his eyes, sinking into the wide orbs. Both were open, colored a fogged white. The color of blindness.
“Wha-what did-?” Macnair thrust into him again, forcing the air out of exhausted lungs before the teen could finish the words, and then changed angles, hitting that one spot.
And everything dissolved around Harry, his sight shot and body trembling, left on the edge for far too long, that one touch, that one hit, and he lost it.
Harry came back to himself slowly, every one of his senses returning bit by bit.
First was smell. That alone nearly made him want to scream as the sharp tang of sweat, blood, sex, cum, and an odd scent that burnt his nose washed around him, sending a shudder down his spine.
Then taste. Alcohol was on his tongue, the burn scorching along his throat. He could taste cum on his lips, as well as blood, rust, and salt.
Panting sounded by his ear, a sound that sent shivers down his back as moans, grunts, and the meaty sound of flesh hitting flesh became clear.
Touches on his fevered skin nearly made him moan in pain as agony flared in his lower back, while travelling up his spine was a pressure, heavy like a body standing on his bones, causing every cut to flare in time with his heart. A hot body was on him, still moving despite his period of blacking out, hands on his unbound forearms pinning him in place.
Light filtered to his eyes bit by bit, allowing him to see stone all around him.
There was blood on the walls, water and cum slowly rolling down the walls.
Macnair let out a low moan as he came, the hands on Harry’s skin tightening enough to leave bruises on pale skin. Harry let out a low hiss, anger rising.
Whatever spell they had utilized to change how his mind worked was broken when he blacked out. Macnair licked at his chest, sucking on his skin as if he knew where every sensitive spot on his skin was. A callused hand found sensitive flesh and Harry jerked in shock as he came, not even feeling the build-up.
Had he been fucking me while my mind was out, but my body wasn’t?
“I wonder if you’ll be able to look your lover in the face after I’m through with you, Harry,” Macnair whispered his name like a lover’s moan, lips right at Harry’s ear, teasing his skin. “Could you look at them and pretend to still be innocent? Can you hold them without cringing, let them touch you without my face swimming before your eyes, my name on your lips?” He laughed, his breath sending mini-quakes down Harry’s spine. Harry felt his left hand twitch, curling into a fist, even as he panted his release.
“I can’t see you do it. We’ll let you go, and you’ll destroy every relationship you have, pushing everyone away while you remember my fingers on your skin.” Harry felt Macnair slowly harden again and the executioner let out a low grunt, slipping his left hand free from Harry’s limp fingers.
“My cock up your sweet tight ass, with my whispering in your ear… maybe after this is all said and done… I’ll get to keep you? Would that be better, to be with me, or be tortured by our Lord?”
Harry felt something snap. Sliding his feet closer to his ass where he lay, he did two things at once.
His left hand curled into a fist, finding home at Macnair’s nose, while his right hand, still immobilized by the spell bandages and the wrist stiff, chopped at the thick neck hovering over his chest. The wizard pulled back with a startled scream, flipping head-over-heels in his urge to get away. Harry rose slowly onto his knees, hunched over for moment as he took in a slow breath, then stood, darting forward to kick Macnair in the balls.
The shrill scream made him feel a lot better. Harry let out another slow breath, feeling blood and other unmentionable things slowly rolling down his legs. Macnair had curled into a ball and was whimpering, a bruise already forming on his neck.
Harry smirked unrepentantly, looking down at his bound wrist and forearm.
Hmm…it’s as stiff as it looks, nice. He let out a shout of laughter before his face fell flat, emotionless, blank white eyes staring down at the still moaning man.
“Looks like even with how weakened I am, I still hit you too hard. How sad.” He tilted his head, numbly curious. “Can you breathe? I admit, the last man who forced me to do that didn’t…come out very well.” He put his left hand to the ground, feeling wood rolling under the limb, the slow smile on his face became utterly menacing as he finally got onto both feet, swaying slightly.
Everything around him was slow, his sight tinted white at the edges, muscles shaking even as he raised his hand.
“Kutte Ballene Av, [Norwegian: Cut the Balls off]” Harry incanted as he aimed the man’s own wand at him. A flash of blue and Macnair screamed again, rolling where he laid, one hand over his bleeding nose, the other holding where both testicles used to be. Now one was a mass of torn tissue, bleeding all over his legs. Harry looked at the damage the spell caused, before transferring his gaze to his left hand.
“I can’t get enough magic out of the arm and through the wand right now…” he sighed, conjuring a dagger as he placed the useless wand behind his ear. “What was the spell you used…? Ah, that’s right, Flac�r�.” Dropping to one knee, he pressed the knife against the bleeding wound, instantly smelling burning flesh.
Macnair shrieked, back arching in pain as Harry caustically cauterized the wound, face blank.
“You – little – bastard!” Macnair snarled though gritted teeth. Clouded eyes turned to his face, raising an eyebrow.
“Hey,” Harry started mildly, twitching his left pointer finger back and forth. “I’m helping you not bleed to death.” He held the dagger up, flipping it in his hand. “So ungrateful. Înghe�.” The dagger flashed and Macnair gained a look of horror “Fine then.” Leaning over slightly, Harry plunged the dagger into Macnair’s belly, slitting him open. Instantly the smell of blood and shit flowed into the air. Harry peered into Macnair’s insides, using the knife to hold up one intestine, and then he slit it open, plunging the knife into the body below him once again.
So into the work he now did, Harry didn’t notice the spells flashing in the air, one man running down to stop in horror at the scene before his eyes.
“Shit! Damnit Macnair can you do anything properly?” Harry stiffened at the intrusion, jerking his head to the side to stare at the intruder from the curtain of his hair. “Stupefy!” Harry tilted to the side slightly as the spell almost hit his side, and then turned, looking at the man standing in the walkway.
Somewhat tall, dull stupid black eyes, fat…ahhh, that symbol at his breast…
“Montague Sr,” he greeted cheerfully with a slight smirk as the heavy set man backed up a step. “Oh, hello.” Hand with the dagger raised, Harry sent five bone-shattering hexes, watching as Montague threw himself out of the doorway, a heavy crack echoing through the room. A look out the door found the elderly man hanging on the wall, having gotten caught in Harry’s trap tripping spell. He was hanging from the wooden shafts Harry had thoughtfully placed in the wall, mouth open in horror as blood started to pool on the floor.
“At least I’m not the only one bleeding here,” Harry mused, head tilted as he watched the light fade from black eyes.
Harry turned to look at Macnair, the man barely breathing between the moans and whimpers of pain.
“If only I had the time to put you through all the pain you inflicted on me…” A smile suddenly grew on the deathly pale face and for the first time Macnair was truly afraid. “The humiliation though… that I can do.” Waving the wand, Macnair’s hair fell from his head while his remaining intestines raised up to hang about his neck like an repulsive necklace as he slowly rose in the air, hands strung over his head.
“Hmm…” Harry tilted his head, tapping the wand casually against his leg as he cast healing spells upon himself. “It seems something is missing…” A few wand waves and Harry smiled, his face dark. “That will do.” He turned, conjuring a cloak from midair to cover himself, before looking back at his captive floating in the middle of the room for all to see.
Barely conscious, Macnair was covered in his own shit and blood, still-moving intestines slowly choking him as a last message floated in the air beside him.
A bit too small for my tastes…
Malfoy nearly shit himself as a loud explosion echoed though his home, nearly rocking the Mansion off its foundations.
“What in the name of Merlin –”
Harry Potter opened the door, dressed in nothing but bandages and a blood soaked robe tied at his waist, looking about with glazed eyes.
“Ah, Malfoy. Lovely. So I’m at your manor?” Malfoy felt his mouth twitch, trying to back away a step, only to find himself frozen. “I’m not going to kill you,” Harry told him softly, tone blank as he raised a hand as if pacifying the older wizard. “So don’t cause too much trouble while I get out of here, okay?” Malfoy did not say a word as he watched the fifteen-year-old stroll out of the room, as calm as if he had not been tortured nonstop for nearly three weeks.
He shuddered. Potter had balls, he would give him that.
“Now then…” Harry held out his left hand, the spells sent after him stopping an inch from his finger tips. Twitching a finger, he sent the spells back one-handed, right hand propped at his chin. He was right at the wards of the Malfoy Manor, but like always, breaking into Wards verses breaking out of Wards, are two different things.
“There he is!” Harry turned to look at them, holding out his left hand. Fire collected at his fingertips, released as a wave of fire at the recruits.
“Tyveri Bekreftet![Romanian: Theft Confirmed]” Harry blinked at the shouted spell, and then felt his eyes burn, crying out as he backed a step into the wards. As the Death Eaters watched, a line of blood appeared on Harry’s face, extending from his forehead down to his chest, slicing right through his left eye. Harry half-collapsed, putting a hand to his eye as his magic flared around him, growing like a creature at his back, snarling as amber eyes lit above his shoulders, dark green magic floating around his body.
“You imbecile!” He heard Rodolphus snarl through the haze of pain. “His magic has returned! Didn’t I tell you to inflict enough damage to keep his magic busy?” Macnair shouted something back furiously, voice hoarse with pain, and Harry grinned. The man stood by the grace of a spell alone, blood still caked on his body, with a spell hastily placed over his abdomen to keep his insides still, another man’s wand in his hand. His neck was a mass of bruises from his own writhing intestines, face covered with blood.
Looks like he was the only one to use this spell on me, so only he could finish it. Harry let out a laugh raising his right hand, only held up by the power of the wards at his back. He snapped his fingers, raising one with a small lick of flame at its tip.
“Brenne dem ned, [Norwegian: Burn Them Down]” he breathed, letting the small spark sit upon his palm, and blew.
The fire roared.
Amber eyes wide as the vision of mountain-high flames stayed before his eyes, Sytou backed away, eyes bright as he panted, back against the wall. George watched blankly as the vampire shakily raised a hand to his forehead, letting out a slow breath
“What’s wrong?” George asked, bewildered as the vampire’s actions prompted concerned outbursts from many.
“It was the vision, wasn’t it?” Severus started slowly, arms crossed as his decadent voice flowed through the room. “You are one of the, if not the strongest tie to the planet of the Prophets… you could feel what was happening to those you scry.” Sytou let out a slow sigh, nodding.
“Yes. I didn’t tell you because that would be considered a weakness… and I thought whatever was happening I had already experience before and could not react to. I have seen many things… but rarely that.” Sytou looked up, face serious. “We need to get to your son, fast.”
Evan Rosier slowly stood, hands on the table before him as he raised black eyes, blood-red hair falling before them.
“I think I might have a plan. Why not call Damien to do this?” Sirius raised an eyebrow at the speaker. Severus blinked back, seeing Sirius consider it. George lowered his head from where he stood in the back of the room, Fred at his side with his face buried onto his arm, smirking, as George’s face morphed into a horrifying parody of a grin.
“Damien?” the Black Lord started. “Who is that?”
“Just the foremost expertise in torture, interrogation, and information gathering that I have ever seen.”
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