Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

I Don't Think You're a Waste of Space	By : SparklySprinkles Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Dudley/Harry Views: 10089 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Fictional story based on fictional characters. I own nothing of Harry Potter, and make no money.

Chapter List
- 1-chapter one
- 2-Chapter Two
- 3-Chapter Three
- 4-four
- 5-five
- 6-six
- 7-seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-nine
- 10-ten
- 11-eleven
- 12-twelve
- 13-thirteen
- 14-fourteen
- 15-fifteen
- 16-sixteen
- 17-seventeen
- 18-eighteen
- 19-nineteen
- 20-twenty
- 21-twenny one
- 22-twenny two
- 23-twenty three
- 24-twenty four
- 25-one more to go!
- 26-the end (26)
- 25
- 26
   Harry woke entwined with the man, and didn't move. This was so nice. He was past the boundary, but Snape was sleeping, he would have to wake him to retreat to his side, and he knew it wouldn't be worth it. Snape wouldn't approve. So he leeched, and loved it, feeling this, and when the man woke, he would feel the love again. Funny how it never fluctuated, never moved.
   Funny how in this very moment he had everything he'd ever wanted. He wished he could cross the boundary every night before falling asleep, so he could wake to this, these arms, these legs locked with his body. If he moved just a touch perhaps he could get this man inside him before he woke. Harry suppressed a nervous little giggle at the dangerous thought. There was no way to know how Snape would react to that. It could anger him, he didn't know.
   After some time he woke, and Harry felt the surge, opened up to it and completely absorbed it like sand warming in the sun. He pulled away, in case Snape wanted that, but he was pulled back, and held like he was everything to him. His head swam, and he rode the dizziness through until he was shaking and cumming and being filled. Everything. And he was still dizzy after. Snape had said he loved him. Him. Not her. He'd said that the day before, and whether it was true or not, Harry was allowed to believe it was. He'd received permission, and he'd woken with it firmly in place.
   He was allowed to spend the morning with Neville, who wasn't trying so hard to tell him what a monster Snape was. He seemed to be understanding what Harry was going through. Or trying to. Harry wouldn't've put it past him. Neville was incredibly understanding when it came down to it. They sat over tea, since it was getting too cold outside for Neville to be doing whatever it was he did out there. Harry hoped it was a sign that he would have much more spare time in the winter months to come.
   Neville never mentioned his silverware malfunction from the night before, and Harry let that ride easily. They both understood what it meant, they didn't need to go saying things out loud where they could be heard. Or anywhere else, or at all, either. What more was there to say about it? Neville obviously hadn't had murderous thoughts towards his master before that, and that was fine. "What're the two things he wants you crossing in the basement?"
   "I think he's got me making drugs."
   "What?" Not that he cared, really. But he would never have expected that answer.
   "He wants poppies magically crossed with wormwood. He wants me to produce a plant that has both pain killing and hallucinogenic properties. I can almost see a way to it. You want to come down and see?"
   "Yeah. Actually."
   So they spent some time in the basement, in another room off the side, Harry happy enough to be seeing something different, not that he was getting bored. Neville had splices of both in a few different ways, and he was trying grafting and cloning and magical melding. And a couple seeds in different containers he showed Harry, each being held together in different ways. One pair were tied together with the tiniest string possible with a binding charm. Another where he'd pulled out the germ from one and had it in the shell of the other. And another where he'd spliced the germs and melded them magically. He explained it all and Harry placidly nodded for him when it was necessary, like a polite guest in someone else's room. Which he was.
   "Seems like fun."
   "It is." He seemed to think that through and turned back to him. "Not that I want to make drugs, Harry."
   "No. Of course not."
   "But I even have them growing up together like it might help them accept it later, if none of this works," waving over the other places where he was trying things. Trays that held more seedlings. "There are some studies that suggest they may hold familial feelings for each other if they share the same nursery."
   "Wow. Really?"
   Neville lit up, like Harry had heard just how amazing that was, and Neville had someone to share his enthusiasm with. Poor lonely kid. Too bad Snape wasn't better to him, but he seemed to be coming around. "Yeah. So I make sure to feed them at exactly the same time, always the same amount, always more than they need, so there's never any competition, things like that." He looked out over them and shrugged. "If nothing I'm doing now works, then I'll try it again with these after they've matured, and it could help. I have permission to try pretty much anything here." Harry nodded, and Neville went on, needing little encouragement.
   They came back up and had some more tea before making lunch, then Snape joined them at the table for it. The room seemed a lot better than it had the day before. Neville was calmer, at least. Able to hold utensils around the man.
   They were eating, silently as always, and Harry felt it at the same time that Neville reacted to it, and was against the wall in the kitchen before the other could even try to fight it. But he was. Harry could feel him holding on, pushing against what Riddle was trying. He couldn't look away, couldn't move once his body had hit a wall. Neville hunched over and threw up over the table, and Harry heard Snape say something, but he couldn't focus on the words. They must have been for Neville.
   He gripped his head and groaned, "fight, Neville!" But the act of vomiting had weakened the boy just enough for the Dark Lord to dig in, and Harry felt every bit of ground gained.
   He knew it was over then, and was able to move, tear his eyes away, for a weapon. He grasped a blade, perhaps even the same one.
   "Drop it," from his master's deep voice.
   It fell, just as before. He pulled out his wand, useless for anything but opening doors, just as he was driven to take the goblet of polyjuice on the counter, without meaning to, without telling himself to, and with a horribly shaking hand, drop a hair in. He was sure he was only able to not drop it from the command. He drank it, and watched Neville get shoved out, and the Dark Lord take over in front of him.
   "This one has some strength, Severus."
   "Yes, My Lord."
   Harry's body morphed, into his own, and the complaints that assaulted him were dizzying. His knees nearly gave and he gripped the counter to stay upright. Bones grated against each other with every breath and movement. He'd been told to drop that blade, but perhaps he could pick up another. He kept close to them, in case it would be possible. His guts churned, in ways that were sickening and familiar, a gnawing hollowness that he'd grown used to, but now was something that he could hardly think past.
   "I need you to come at once. To my home. The Malfoys were attacked, and Draco has been stolen. Along with his wife," like an angry afterthought.
   "Stolen? Yes, My Lord." Snape turned and looked at him, but he'd become a blur. All Harry could do was clutch his pained body and wait. No, this wasn't something to do with him. It was Malfoy. He would be left alone. "Stay here, do nothing that I would disapprove of." Harry nodded, and Neville was released, then Snape left the room.
   He rushed to Neville's body, ready in case he fell over, but the table was doing a fair job of holding him up. He wished he could use his wand for something then, like rennervate. Something useful. He knew he couldn't even support him, not in the weakened body he was holding up. But he could remove his mask. Could be seen by someone. Once he woke.
   "Neville!"
   The boy groaned and moved. Fought the table and pushed himself back. Then he stared at Harry, grimacing.
   "Harry." He looked at the table, covered in what had been his lunch. He rose shaking, and went to the kitchen, and Harry followed, grabbing a cloth to clean the table while Neville drowned his face in the sink.
   Harry mopped a bit of the sick up, and Neville pulled his face out, looked at Harry doing his little part, and scourgified the table. Harry left the cloth in the sink.
   "Good to see you again." Neville looked down. "I didn't. I didn't do anything, did I?"
   "No. He came and took Snape, Neville, he said someone came and took Luna and Malfoy. I think it was McGonagall."
   His face lit up like the source of light itself, easy to make it out from how close Harry was to him. Then Neville frowned, just a little, but it hardly diminished the light. "Why would she take Malfoy, too?"
   "I don't know." That was a good question, though. Perhaps it wasn't McGonagall.
   "Where are they?"
   "His home at Hogwarts." He'd rather not call that place the headmaster's office. Neville nodded weakly and sat back down heavily.
   "I'm sorry Harry. I tried to fight him."
   "You did real good, Neville. You fought like hell, don't worry."
   "Why would Professor McGonagall take Malfoy?"
   "I don't know. Maybe it wasn't her. Maybe the Dark Lord has other enemies." And that was all too likely. And not something to hope for if it threatened Luna.
   "Maybe she knows something we don't? Maybe he's a hostage?" Harry nodded for him. Hostages made sense. "Maybe she thought -" Neville looked behind Harry, frozen midsentence, mid thought, and Harry looked around. The wall had melted open. And blurry people. People.
   He jumped up and back, towards Neville, as though he could help. And maybe he could. He had more freedom with his wand than Harry. Then he stopped as he recognized these people. Professor McGonagall. And. Hermione beside her. And -
   "Dudley!"
   McGonagall saw him and Neville, and stopped in place to smile a touch. She seemed to relax a little, and Dudley shoved his way past her. He stared at Harry, frowning his beautiful thinking frown. How was this possible? Harry threw himself at him, and he was held, vicelike. "Harry." He nodded to that, hoping like an idiot that Dudley still wanted him. But why would that matter? He couldn't leave here. And this was what? A rescue mission?
   Dudley's arms completely enclosed him, unmoving and steady, a rock. Completely predictable and trustworthy and unwavering in his affections. And look at him, in Snape's home, holding Harry like he would never let go. That was ... something.
   Neville said, "I think it's time to leave, Harry."
   "We still have the same problem. We can't leave." He said it to Dudley's chest, because there was no give in there for him to even turn his head.
   "We may have found a way around it, Mr. Potter. We'll use the same curse, but use your soul. And you'll sort of be your own master. I don't mean that in a metaphorical way, either. And we know it'll work on Mr. Longbottom." Neville laughed quietly, lightly, like he could break something delicate with a loud noise. "And if that doesn't work, we'll use myself, or Hermione, or you can choose someone you trust."
   "They mean me, Harry," Dudley said, low in his ear, arms tightening even more, nearly cutting off air.
   "No one has agreed to that, Mr. Dursley. I never said that would happen, and you know it. I can't agree to anything like that without his express permission." The frown was audible. But Harry still wasn't sure. He'd been treated well here. He'd been here for something like three weeks, and Snape hadn't hurt him once. Surprising, really, since Harry was sure he'd given the man reason.
   And he couldn't do anything useful for these people. Go after the Dark Lord, that was what McGonagall was doing? He was a husk. He wasn't going anywhere near that. His head hurt at the mere thought, flinching like some pathetic mouse before the vast concept of Snake.
   He didn't know how much he could say, either, in Dudley's arms. He pressed his head up into the chin over him and felt a low rumble for him, and stayed quiet.
   Neville spoke behind him, past the wall of Dudley's huge arms. "Come on, Harry. Let's go. Quick, before he comes back."
   "I can't leave here." For perhaps more than just, "I've been commanded to never leave."
   Neville was still being quiet with this fragile bubble of impossibility as he said, "then perhaps Professor McGonagall should try to break the curses right now? Luna?" But his tone lowered to a growl the next heartbeat. "What's he doing here?"
   "Hullo, Neville. Harry." Harry lifted his head to see around Dudley's shoulder, but he wasn't given much space for moving. But there she was, and Malfoy behind her. Insanity.
   "What's he doing here?" Neville asked again.
   "I couldn't convince him to stay," she said softly, gently.
   "Malfoy. What are you doing here?"
   "I'm with her." He nodded to Luna. And Harry looked at her.
   "I'm sorry, but he wouldn't stay. I couldn't make him. He just sounded so sad." Malfoy looked down like it was rather embarrassing, and coloured a little. What had Luna done to this guy? "I tried everything to make him stay behind, but he said he couldn't. It was all very sweet, really."
   "Sweet. They would kill me if I lost you." Madness. It was all madness.
   "So what, you think you're in love with her?" Neville sounded right pissed. "She won't belong to you out there. You know that?"
   "Yeah. I know that. But I still want to be around her. Even now she could be pregnant, Longbottom." He was trying to salvage some dignity here by lifting his chin, inflecting his words like the son of purebloods, like old times, in this unreal situation. "She could be carrying my heir."
   "That's not likely, Draco. I was drinking pennyroyal tea the whole time."
   He nodded as though he understood, but Harry knew he didn't. Because he didn't.
   "Luna. You're a genius."
   "That's really nice Neville, but what did you expect?"
   "Not a herbology major. That's for sure. Where did you get it?"
   "It lines the walkways of the gardens there in lots of places."
   "Oh." Malfoy processed this. He didn't know what pennyroyal was, but Harry could see it as he understood. Luna had figured out some way to not get pregnant. Good for her. "I don't care. It was bloody genius. I didn't want to give him my children as slaves anyways, Luna. Everything you do is always the right thing to do. I've said that so many times, and I always meant it. I can't let you go." Everything that made him a lousy prat had no place in the way he looked at her, spoke to her, he was a completely different person for her.
   "That's sweet Draco. I told you I would think about it. But none of it matters as long as we're at war, and in hiding." He nodded like it was all a given. Like anything she said would just be a given. A law of Nature from a goddess handed down to him, and he was lucky enough to hear the words spoken. Remarkable.
   Harry could feel the ticking of the clock suddenly, seeing Luna, and Hermione. Why would McGonagall take them here? She should have put them somewhere safe before trying this madness. "You should take Neville and go. I'll stay, it's alright." Dudley shifted his weight on his feet and Harry regretted saying that. But they needed to get out in the time they had.
   Neville made an incredulous sound. "Harry, he's not been good to you. You're just confused about it. You need to trust us."
   Harry knew that much. He wasn't himself, and hadn't been for a long time. It was possible that he was too confused to think for himself. But maybe they really didn't know Snape. Who knew a spy? Harry had felt things from the inside, though. "He's been nice, Neville. I know how you feel about that. But it's true. I don't think," what? Hard to even put his thoughts together against Dudley's body, massive and immovable around him. But he would say it, to these people, in case no one ever knew it. "I think maybe he's a good man."
   "He killed Dumbledore."
   Yes. That was true. And he'd done other things, too. Harry had forgotten. But there was something else there, as well, things he couldn't reach, and therefore couldn't explain. And even if he could? These people would reject it all. They weren't there when the shields came down for him. No, for her, but whatever. He had stopped caring about whom it was for from the first night.
   "Harry." Neville again. Softer than a light warm rain, yet full of pain, "he's been raping you." Harry shook his head. It just really wasn't like that.
   "Where is he?" Dudley asked in a voice of steel over Harry's head.
   "He's with the Dark Lord. Summoned."
   "Right. That's the Dark Lord's Home, right?"
   "Yeah."
   Dudley let go of him, and Harry stared up at him as he walked through the people, wondering if Dudley wanted nothing to do with him now, for hearing such an awful word. And it hadn't been true. And he wanted to call him back, but knew he had no right. If Dudley was done with him over this, that was his own right to make such a choice, and really, he'd be better off for it. Harry wasn't good for people to be around. He had a way of getting them killed. Dudley walked through Malfoy and Luna, for god's sake. They worked their ways in to the room, but Malfoy kept his eyes from meeting anyone's.
   Luna smiled placidly at Harry. "We'll figure something out, Harry." And Hermione rushed him, nearly knocking him back into the table. He lifted his arms around her, feeling strange about touching someone who hadn't claimed him prior in some way. Like he'd forgotten how to simply touch someone, and his hands hovered over her in indecision. She pulled her face back and looked up at him. She was scarred everywhere, furrows digging down and across her face brutally. This close he could make it all out. Down her neck in continuing lines sometimes, like it had all been intentional, and he felt sure it had been. He stopped from wrapping his arms around her and instead reached up and stroked them with a shaking hand. But he'd been shaking since these people had appeared.
   "I'm so sorry, Mione."
   "So am I, Harry. But we have to keep going. Minerva, break Neville's curse, please." She spoke lower, apologetically for Harry. "Since we know we can do that one. Yours I don't know. I can almost feel it, like a pr-" She stopped. And Harry felt that if she was disturbed by the word she almost said, then perhaps he didn't want to hear it.
   McGonagall pointed her wand at Neville, spoke words, and Harry watched. Neville hardly moved, like he was afraid breathing would disturb the bonds being broken and reforged. She was moving her wand similar to how Snape had, months ago. A couple lifetimes ago.
   And then she backed up, and Neville smiled slow. He lifted his wand, pointed it at the chair he'd left and looked at McGonagall. He smiled wider and transfigured the chair into something tiny. Harry had to bend a bit and look under the table to see it, a tiny figurine of a cat.
   "Thank you, Professor."
   "Hm. Stand still, Potter, if you please." Harry looked at her as she approached, and Hermione backed away. Neville was free, and he could be next. It was so unreal it was like floating. She moved her wand over him, and he could feel the magic passing over him, through him. "Yes, I see it. This is a little more complicated. What did that man do?" She frowned. "I'm sorry, but we will have to - you will have to choose someone, Harry." Her tone, so soft for what she was saying. She looked around. Then back at him. "This is where Mr. Dursley would normally speak up, considering he's done nothing else for weeks. But he's in the other room, Harry. So it's safe for you to speak now if you would rather it be Hermione. Or anyone else you would prefer."
   He looked back at Neville, who'd put his elation on hold for this, but Harry could see the impatience. They were on limited time here. Shock and rage rumbled over each other, from far away, pulling at him, bleeding into his scar, and through it to the rest of him. He hissed and leaned back on the table, and followed the thread quick, needing to know. His master was there.
   And he was in the headmaster's office, looking down the barrel of a gun to Dudley. Smiling through his rage, controlling himself to control the situation. It released as laughter, of course. It was truly funny. This muggle had one aim. One thought.
    "You stupid stubborn boy. You should have thought twice before coming."
   "Didn't even think once, actually." He turned the gun, so it pointed at Severus, and pulled the trigger, as loud and devastating as before, the sound sent shocks of fear and memory through Harry, but the Dark Lord owned this space, this Space, and the bullet stopped in the air between the boy and his servant. He extended his hold, binding them both, just for good measure. He didn't need Severus trying anything, and he could do nothing but watch, as much as anyone could have done in this Space. The Dark Lord didn't allow his servants to touch their magic here.
   Severus exhaled, but his face never moved. He too, was watching the boy. "You're a fool, Dursley." He growled it out slow. "How -" He stopped, mid sentence like that, and the Dark Lord wished he could have heard the question, and the answer. How indeed.
   Harry pulled out of that to the crowd in Snape's dining room. "You all need to leave. Dudley's there, with them. I-" He needed to stop that. Save Dudley. There was no way he could do anything with a gun in the Dark Lord's lair. He controlled the very air there. He went through the room, wand in hand, like it would do anything but open a doorway. Floo powder was kept above the fireplace, of course, but he couldn't do anything about it. Couldn't leave. Unless his life was in danger. The room crowded behind him.
   "Potter, let me try to replace Severus with Hermione, then."
   Hermione would be better than McGonagall herself, of course. But Harry suspected it wouldn't work. Either way they were out of time, and Harry was entirely prepared to invade Riddle's mind and beg for Dudley's life. Had nothing more than that in mind, really. There wasn't anything else he could have done. "If you don't get them out of here, then you'll regret it. Come back for me when it's all over. I can't do anything for you. I'm useless." Riddle could kill in the span of a heartbeat. Less than that.
   He pulled out of his head for another moment, desperate to not lose any time.
   "This isn't necessary. I can give you everything you want. Right now, in fact."
   "You don't know what that is."
   "I think I do. I know better than you, boy." Young Dursley shook his head. And Riddle stepped up, taking control now that he'd promised something. This boy thought he was complex. Yet he would be much more agreeable than Severus when it came to keeping Harry. "You want him. I can pass the bond to you in seconds. Or you could take your chances, beat unbeatable odds here, where I control every element. And by some unforeseen and supernatural force, win, go back to him and try your luck," he sneered for the word, a force to be respected by men, perhaps, not gods. Not immortals. "Or I can give you the bond, and you will own him. Just as you wanted to. And you would take better care of him than the others, right?"
   Dudley stopped a nod. He wasn't ready to be fooled, and wanted the Dark Lord to know it. Just the latest in a long line of fools trying to get something. But a useful one. "Yeah. But I want exactly what my Dad had. What I should have had."
   "Done. You muggles know how to drive a hard bargain." Severus made a sound from where he was, and the Dark Lord silenced him, without wand or gesture, just tightened the air around him and stopped all sound. He owned this home. Severus would accept this or not, but the Dark Lord would regain his toy from it all. Whatever Severus had done to the bond to keep him away from Harry would be undone in rebuilding a new bond.
   "Where did you come from?"
   "His house." With a nod to Severus, who didn't move, didn't blink.
   "Is anyone with you?"
   "Yeah. McGonagall and Granger and two new ones. Some dizzy blond and her milktoast girlfriend." He truly had one loyalty.
   "You have my word that everything will work out for you, and you will get everything you want." He was just a perfect tool for the job, after all. Smitten and stupid. Full of eagerness and infatuation, and all the energy of a young man, which would mean that he would also keep Harry's hole loose with use, which was fairly necessary. This body would be far more wieldy than the walrus of a father he'd had. He had hardly moved in Harry with that vehicle before he was a soaked sweaty mess, but this boy was much more fit. Riddle would do everything different about this, and do it right. Now that he knew what a pleasure Harry was. Perhaps even lock that house down under a fidelius charm or something, if he couldn't find a better place to keep them.
   The Dark Lord stepped up and said, "I just need to take a look at what's over there. Look at me." And he looked in the boy's eyes, seeing everything that had happened in the last hour. It took less than a second. Him, along with McGonagall and the Granger girl, sneaking into Malfoy Manor, and taking Luna. Young Draco begging to come along, bleeding fear and desperation. He'd grown disgustingly dependent on the witch he was supposed to own. That was unfortunate, and he weighed the cost of not keeping the wretched boy alive. Would Lucius revolt in rage, or crumble in defeat? Riddle decided to keep the boy, until he could decide, but the rest were dead.
   He opened the door with a flick of his eyes, "Bella," and his hound bounded in, from her permanent resting place outside his door. Her eyes found Severus quickly, his magical bindings, and the muggle boy with his gun and they went back to him. "My Lord?"
   "Yes. I require you to floo to Severus' home and kill everyone." She smiled deeply. It was her favourite. "Not Potter, of course. Never Potter. And not Draco if you can avoid it. Some day that boy will come around. We don't want his parents displeased with us?" She nodded again. She may have had feelings for him, but Riddle wouldn't bet on it. He was her only love. Stupid woman, but infinitely useful when a bludger was needed, like right then. "Now."
   "Yes, My lord."
   Harry came back, screaming, "Leave! She's coming, and she has orders to kill you all!"
   "Oh god," Draco groaned into the silence. He grasped Luna's hand and pulled.
   "Neville, help him get her out of here." And maybe Neville started to do that, Harry didn't know. Green light flared in the room and was followed by her mad cackle. Harry turned in time to see a flurry of knives leave her one hand, as the other released death through her wand. A storm of madness.
   Walls exploded, ruining his master's little library. A grunt came from Neville, and a shout from Luna behind, but Harry came at Bella, hoping to block. Hermione jumped past him at her as McGonagall threw an expelliarmus over her head. Bella hit that with another diffindo, and Hermione reached her, grasping at her wand, throwing herself at Bella, screaming rage and everything, like she forgot she had a wand. And Harry remembered he had one, then. But it was useless.
   They snarled, both of them, and Bella slashed her wand downwards, right into Hermione's grip, but she'd held the diffindo the whole time, and it sliced, with a sickening sound, through flesh. Through her shoulder like it was nothing, through her chest. Harry screamed then with McGonagall as Hermione landed at Bella's feet, like a puppet without a hand. She was nearly cut in two, and very dead yet twitching.
   Harry landed on his knees over her, like there was something he could do for her, like he could mend her. He looked up, because the vision was burning his eyes, his brain, and saw Bella was still throwing her curse about, wildly, unconcerned where it would land. He threw himself into her midriff and plowed. It wasn't a lot of momentum, but it was enough for her to cut the curse short as she tried to not fall.
   They landed closer to the fireplace, and he scrambled at the wand in her hand. McGonagall wasn't helping and she'd gone nearly quiet. He looked back for her and saw she too was on the floor, but moving. Bella used that moment to punch him, like a muggle, and Harry fell back from it. She raised her wand and he followed it with his eyes, to Neville huddled .... huddled around Luna. And above them Draco pointed at her, screamed it, "Avada Kadava!" A scream that blasted through whatever she'd been throwing at Luna.
   She dropped with a snarling smile that laxed before she hit the floor. Harry looked back at Draco, then at an arm sticking out from under Neville for movement. More green light chased right on the heels of that and Riddle stepped into the room, threw up a protection charm for himself as Harry's head split open from it. He spared a look for Harry and Bella, then up to the room all in a second.
   "Draco. Put it down and I'll let her live." The boy immediately dropped his wand. "Good job, Draco." Harry backed up, but wasn't quick enough to cover his transfiguration professor. Riddle pointed his wand at her and said it, like one solid word, quicker than should have been possible, "Avadakadavra!" Harry screamed uselessly, and she too, was dead before he could reach her. Too high a price. All of it. He screamed again, getting nothing for it.
   "And now Longbottom, what do I do with you?"
   Neville grunted a little as he lifted himself up off Luna. Stood tall like a proper Longbottom, not deigning to favour the blossom of blood that was spreading from the knife in his gut. "Kill me." Ever proud, ever defiant and admirable.
   "Neville, don't say that," Luna said, soft and ragged at the same time as she rose up between him and Draco.
   "Why not, Luna? It's over, isn't it? Her knives are poisoned too, aren't they?"
   "They are," Draco said bleakly.
   "Draco, through the floo, and report to Amicus. Tell him I need you both kept somewhere safe until I have time for you." He did so, taking her by the hand and pulling. She looked back at him, but Neville stared straight at the Dark Lord. Neither Harry nor Neville said a word or moved until they were through.
   And over all the bodies the Dark Lord moved, bare feet and robes trailing blood like it was nothing. "Harry. Come with me, please." Harry shook his head, and huddled in over his professor. Riddle laughed. "I wasn't giving you an option. I know the word please can give that appearance at times, but it was an order. Come, or I will kill the boy. You're his only use, now. The one thing keeping him alive."
   Harry got up and swayed. "I can't leave the house." Except. And it was for Dudley. "Except for, on pain of my life."
   The Dark Lord smiled gently. "Of course. I understand." He wrapped Harry in bonds of air quick as a viper and pulled him in. He spared a glance for Neville, the blade, the boy standing still quite strong despite the complete lack of colour in his face, and took Harry to the fireplace. Threw in the powder and they stepped in.
   The bond lashed out at him for disobedience as soon as they crossed the boundaries. He dropped and groaned, hands splayed out before him, and at the same time felt himself changing again. To her, for some reason. Perhaps the barriers around the Dark Lord's home didn't allow polyjuice, like Gringotts? Or it had been a hour. His hands lightened, slimmed before his eyes, but strength returned with it. She was a much more solid person, physically, than he was.
   Through it Harry looked up, but the room was still. Even Riddle's red eyes were still, watching him. Then he laughed. Cold and rippling. "What is this? You shouldn't be able to cast anything here. What have you done?" He came up close to Harry, features clearing as he did, staring. "And why would you? I gave you the most priceless artifact in the world." His eyes narrowed. "Oh." And he laughed. Laughed until a normal man would have cried. He was having a good time with this while Harry clenched his body against the pains of disobedience and being so close to this demon. "I may not remember the face of everyone I ever killed, but I do this one, Severus. The mudblood? The one who started it all?" Harry looked at Dudley, who was staring, but without recognition. Frowning deeply. Snape seemed to have no words. Harry hunched in. This was the death his master had told him would come.
   Should he go to him? He didn't know. And he let his body dictate it by keeping him curled up on the cold stone.
   "Harry. I'm going to do something for your muggle, now. Something that may keep him healthy for a long time. Unless I ever change my mind." Harry looked back at Dudley. He had no idea, but those words sounded, sounded like he wouldn't kill Dudley. He couldn't be sure, though. Dudley was frowning as well. Snape was feeling fear but not showing it. Snape, feeling fear. It was bone rattling. And behind that were rage and bone crushing sorrow.
   Snape looked at him. His face was still, nothing at all like what was beneath. Harry could make it out then, he'd been bound by magic, immovable and mute.
   "You had better take your proper form after this, Harry. Or I may be disappointed. As may young Dursley."
   "Goddamn right I would. Though I suppose he still has his eyes."
   Riddle laughed again. It was some huge joke, and Harry was almost tempted to look, just through his eyes for a moment. But perhaps. Perhaps he had some idea now. Why it would be so hilarious to him. Something he'd heard for years. And now, he knew he would rather not know, and this could just be no more than a deep seeded suspicion, and he could somehow not be here soon, be somewhere else. He looked at Snape, and his stomach fell deeper. Snape was an absolute mess. But only on the inside. It had to take some strength to be able to hide all that.
   "It's interesting, Severus. I feel that I understand a few things now. And how ironic was it that I would have given him to you? Perhaps a little too much. Perhaps it was some intervention." He frowned over that, lost in his thoughts for a moment.
   Dudley brought him back. "So, You were lying then? Or what?"
   "I don't lie. I may speak creatively from time to time but I wasn't lying to you. Nor to Harry when I told him I would give you two some extra time together. But only because that means extra time for me. It's simply too much in my own form. But through you, it will be more than bearable." He smiled, and Harry shrank further into himself.
   "Dursley, take this." Riddle handed him a wicked copper knife, curved in waves like a blade shouldn't be. "If you want him, earn him, like I know you can."
   Dudley nodded, looking at the tool, then Snape.
   "No, Dudley."
   "Be quiet, Harry. We'll just do this one thing and then we can go home. I have to do this first."
   "You don't. We can just leave, right?" He'd asked it of Riddle. Like there might be some way that they could leave. He forced words out through grunts, holding himself tight. "Can't there be some way we can leave without him dying?"
   "No. You need your bond broken, and I could never let him live now. Knowing he's in love with the very woman he pleaded for years ago? It's been seventeen years, Harry, and he's still in love with her." Harry shook his head against that. "Weak and stupid to a fault, like most men. I would have to kill him either way. I would have to reassess every motive he may have had. And if you want this one to last any length of time for you, he needs to take a life. Considering how long you will most probably live, and you will - because I will it."
   "Harry. Just stay quiet and I'll take you home soon. Alright?" Harry looked away from Riddle to Dudley. He'd had to tell him twice, and that would be more than enough to piss him off. He was holding the blade, not looking at him but at Snape.
   "You have to mean it, boy."
   Dudley nodded, "right. So not accidental, you mean?" Sassy, as though the words meant nothing. As though it were impossible to kill someone without meaning to. Riddle laughed, like he might be fond of him, but that was a sentiment he wasn't capable of.
   Harry curled up, not wanting any of this to be real, or what had happened before being here, or what was to come. And he didn't see it, but felt Dudley carve the blade along Snape's throat. He didn't scream, just let out a long moan of weakening life. A familiar feeling. He could feel himself running out of Snape's wound, down the man's robes. But he was in a daze. He could feel Snape's life beating against its barriers. But what did that mean? His body? Harry didn't know. Only knew his own helplessness. He was a nothing on a cold floor.
   "You should have listened to me in the beginning." Dudley's words, angry and smug and proving a point, floating through the agony to Harry.
   "Dudley," he croaked out, and Dudley rushed to him. Riddle stopped all that.
   "Come here, you fool."
   And then he could feel, in the moments of agony that followed, the familiar freedom that meant Snape was dead. As he also knew that it wouldn't last. There was a reason Riddle was doing this. Making a horcrux, or making Dudley make one. And in that agony, Harry could feel more. Could feel commands strip away, leaving exposed what had been left under. What he'd been commanded to forget. He screamed from the physical pain, and wondered how much of anything could be real if his mind could be shaped so accurately.
   He threw himself onto his front, and tried to move, to do anything. His hands were his hands again. Riddle was speaking words, though Harry couldn't make them out. They were magical intonations. But not for him. For Dudley. For his knife. He forced himself to look around and find Snape, slumped, held up and very dead in the bonds, still suspended. Had any of anything been real? He was Harry, in Harry's body. And hopefully he would never know for sure whose body that had been.
   His energies fell away, under the constant onslaught of pain, and his soaked tensed form slacked out over the stone.
   And then Riddle was over him, menace and pain and ill intent bleeding out of him at Harry. He could feel it. Like the shadow of a hawk flying overhead. He couldn't do anything against it, his muscles didn't allow much. His pain tolerance had dropped in the weeks where he'd lived nearly painless.
   He opened his eyes when it was over. Over because he could feel Dudley. Could Feel him.
   As he knew well by then, that he should only feel Masters.
   It was a deep satisfaction. A confirmation. A nodding of the head. This is mine wrapped Harry up, like a halo.
   "It's not as potent a piece as it would have been from the fraction that you spent in killing your father. That one would have been a gruesomely poisonous little portion. But it will do. And I'll keep it here, where it will be safe." Harry looked over at them; Riddle was holding the blade, stroking it as he seemed contemplate it. His hands were reddened by it.
   "It's done then? We can go now?"
   "I suppose you may. And I suppose I should thank you, Dursley. You helped me suppress a rebellion today."
   "Pff. Whatever. Piss on your rebellion, piss on your stupid wizards and dragons bullshit and crooked knives, piss on all of it. I can take him and go home, right?"
   Brittle laughter crumpled out. "Your singlemindedness is an inspiration. Yes, you may go. See you soon, Harry."
   "Good. Come on, Harry." And Harry heard it like a Command. An order. He rose, wobbling, shaking. He'd died again. He fell. He looked for him, but his vision was so bleary. Like normal, actually.
   "D-Dudley?"
   And Dudley came for him, held onto him, knew Harry needed the support. He pulled him to the fireplace, reached up like he knew what he was doing. Threw some powder into the fire and didn't flinch from the green glow and said "Dursley Residence." He pulled Harry in with him, and Harry fell as they landed. Dudley pulled him back up as Harry squinted, looking around. They were in what was Dudley's home. It couldn't be real. None of that could have been real.
   Twice now, Dudley had killed for him. That was his most solid thought being held up against his chest.
   "Dudley," he moaned, but unable to say anything more. Nothing more than that. What had just happened? Hermione. "Dudley!"
   "Harry, come here." Arms kept him up, and Dudley started to kiss at him, suck at his face, and Harry could feel only the most intense happiness from him. He tried to hide his face, but Dudley wasn't having it. He found him, no matter where he looked, and moved him until he laid him back, and Harry knew, dimly, that he'd been put on the couch. Dudley was everywhere.
    Was the little glass cat figurine still there? Not if Neville was dead.
   "Dudley!" That one was a scream.
   "Harry. Everything's alright now. Finally." Harry couldn't even shake his head, though he meant to. Dudley was holding his face, but he had blood all over him. Snape's blood. "Can you summon things? Like that old witch could?"
   Harry stared up at him, then he understood. "P - Professor McGonagall?" Dudley nodded. Harry moaned again. Professor McGonagall and Neville and Hermione. And Snape. At least Luna had survived. Sort of.
   "Can you?" Harry stared at him. What was he talking about?
   "Harry! Can you summon things like she could?" He nodded, suddenly afraid here under Dudley when he was angry. He should have been paying attention to him. "Good. Summon the lube from your bedroom."
   Harry shook his head. He could feel it, without reaching for the wand Snape had given him. There was no way to reach his magic in this house.
   "I ... c-can't. He ... this house is bound."
   Dudley stared down at him for a while. He kissed Harry, leaning over him, resting his body lower on Harry, weighing him down. "Never ever lie to me, alright?" Harry nodded as he stared up at him, wishing he could think. Could say or do anything. But he was so stunned. How could this be real?
   Dudley frowned and pulled at his clothes, stripping him and kissing him until Harry was nearly naked, just lying on his robes. He smothered him until Harry couldn't breathe. Dudley was everything. There wasn't even reality anymore, which seemed just as well. Hermione. Neville. Left to just die there painfully? Was that it?
   Dudley held him close and ground against him excitedly, looked down at him as he rose on his hands and knees. "Mine. Finally. Harry, you don't even know." He was catching his breath. "I'm gonna fuck you so much you'll be shitting me out for days." He pulled back just enough to look at him. Harry was still having a hard time seeing anything clearly. "Get upstairs."
   Dudley didn't move to let him up, and Harry had to crawl out from under him, but that might have been his intent, because Harry felt only happiness from him as he moved. He looked behind as he left the room, still so unsteady on his legs, Dudley right behind him, and went up a few steps, holding the rail tight as he went. Until he was grabbed about the hips. Dudley growled as he licked a stripe up one of Harry's cheeks. Then he bit him. Harry jumped, but stayed in place. It wasn't hard, just surprising. Then arms wrapped around his thighs and he was lifted, on the steps and carried, his arse in Dudley's face.
   Dudley reached the hall and spared an arm and a leg to turn the knob and kick the roor open. Harry's door. He had to duck his head or be walked into the wall above it. Dudley deposited him on the bed, but kept his face firmly in place with his hold. His tongue shot out and Harry jumped again, but the arms didn't let him go anywhere, wrapped about his hips.
   He speared him with his tongue, but Harry still couldn't wrap his mind around this. People had died. And yes, Snape. He'd died as well. And Dudley now had a horcrux of his own. What did any of this mean?
   Just Dudley and Riddle and Harry 'til the end of time?
   He buried his head in his hands and hardly knew when Dudley started to thrust fingers in him, slick and quick. But he did feel when Dudley bit him, and yelped. A lick followed, soothing his cheek, as fingers kept going, plunging inches away from the excited mouth.
   "God, Harry. 'Bout fucking time," he said, against his arse. The fingers pulled out and Dudley was there, with his dick, following the absence.
   Harry braced, gripped his hair and waited, and Dudley pressed against him. He strained and grunted, grasped a hip so tight it hurt and strained some more, and just a little gave. "Goddamn it, Harry!" He shouted it over his head, nearly out of patience. "Just ease up. Let me in."
   Harry nodded and his muscles relaxed. He hadn't been meaning to do that. His fingers let go of his hair and he had a hard time just keeping his hips up for him.
   "No. Just like you did for Dad every time he gave you a command. That's how you answer me."
   "Yes, Master," Harry quickly said, and grasped with everything he had onto how very reassuring that felt. How very much like he had a home, and that existed in the space between Dudley's cock and Dudley's happiness. His muscles were eased, Dudley rammed into him, losing all resistance.
   Harry shouted, Dudley shouted, and they both fell still. Then hands moved over him, stroking his back and shoulders and everything on the way to his chest. They held on there, and Dudley took a deep breath that Harry felt in every way. "Sorry. I'm sorry about that. I just, I just needed in already. I'll be nice, I promise." And Dudley went right to pounding into him without reservation, using that hold on his chest to pull him back for more.
   Harry dug his fingers into the bedding and moved with Dudley's hold, giving him everything he was working for, knowing it was incredibly stupid not to, especially this early on.
   ... In what could turn out to be eternity.
   Dudley rammed him into the mattress until Harry's hips were flattened against it, fucked into place by the hips pistoning him from behind, and very soon after Dudley filled him, heaving relieved sighs and encasing him in a solid sense of satisfaction.
   After a few minutes he spoke over his head. "Fucking finally, Harry. Christ, why couldn't they just listen to me the first time?" But he sounded a lot calmer than he had before.
   "I don't know." He didn't know anything anymore.
   Dudley collapsed on him, and Harry tried to make his mind go numb, but he couldn't. This couldn't even be real. It was an hallucination. Perhaps he'd eaten the plants in the basement. Poor Neville. Or he was still in Riddle's bedroom. Had never left it months and months ago, and was in one of those pits of madness that Snape had said the Dark Lord could put people into. That would make more sense, - would cost less lives - than this. Than spending weeks as ... no. That had never happened. And no one here could say it did. And he'd sucked at those breasts as he'd played with the fascinating pussy below. That had never happened. And god, how he'd swallowed Snape's cock with that thirsty body. That had never happened either. But he could remember then. Everything Snape had commanded him to forget.
   "Dudley!"
   "Harry?" A hot mouth came over him, getting at every bit of his face that showed. "Harry." He moved, and Harry could feel his cock hardening inside him. He hunched his shoulders, but he was pulled back, and up as Dudley rose to his knees behind him. Pulled Harry with him as he thrusted already in him.
   "You need some more already?" He grunted and pulled out slow as he stroked Harry's thighs. "I guess that one wasn't very good, but I just needed to clear my fucking head. I can do better, I promise." He turned Harry's face up and moved in for a kiss, but frowned at whatever he saw there. "No, Harry. No." He stroked his face with one hand, but kept the other firmly about him. "Never look at me like that. Know that you're always safe, always loved in my arms."
   "Yes, Master." Everything eased into place, almost making clicking noises as perfect gears fit together for him, and his fear was gone. He arched against him and kissed into Dudley's neck, grateful for the command.
   "Wow. Like, literally, huh? Forget I said that."
   "Yes, Master." He blinked up at him in confusion, but he was still at ease, so it couldn't have been something bad.
   Dudley stared at him, watching something, Harry didn't know what. Then he smiled delightedly down at him, pressed into him as he said it, "always want and need me."
   "Yes, Master." It resonated more than enough. Dudley was so good to him, and would never have given him less than what he wanted Harry to want. Or wanted him to need. He loved him.
   "And forget I said that."
   "Yes, Master." Dudley was smiling broadly again. Whatever it was, it was making him happy. Harry couldn't know, but did it matter? He was in the heart of safety and love. And Dudley's cock was hard as ever, filling him, an offering of more. Could he have ever wanted anything else? He looked up and rocked his arse against him, letting him know how much he wanted it.
   Dudley stroked his face as he said, "it's too much power. They were right; I shouldn't have this much. Harry, I promise I'll do my best, and try to not fuck this up. But it's too much power for someone to have. Anyone."
   Harry nodded, still looking back at him, still rocking himself on Dudley's cock, trying to get him even more inside.
   "You want me? Are you ready now?" Why hadn't he been before?
   "Uh huh." He backed that up with more little kisses up Dudley's chin, and his hips were stroked as they worked, rewarded for every move. Harry moved back onto him, swallowing him in bits with every movement. It was a sore little slice of heaven to be stretched around his girth, and he moaned softly in Dudley's neck to let him know that.
   Then Dudley grabbed his thighs and shoved the rest of the way in, held him tight and sat back without moving, just his hands running along Harry's body. Harry writhed against him, as much as he could, wanting more, then Dudley's hand stoked up his thigh and he jumped into his hand when Dudley found his cock.
   "You're mine, aren't you?"
   Harry nodded into his neck some more, hoping he would stroke, and he did. Harry planted his hands between them on Dudley's thighs and ground against him, marrying the sensations together wonderfully, and moaned some more. He was going to explode, right into Dudley's hand. Everything was perfect in the moment, he was nothing but need, and how perfect was that when Dudley was the complete answer to it? He was right there, giving him everything he'd ever hoped Dudley would give him, in every moment he'd thought of how Dudley would never leave him alone, would never leave him empty, would never leave him unattended to, would never make him feel unwanted. Here, Dudley was jerking him off while making him go blind with his cock inside him, grinding with Harry's movements, giving him everything. Just as he knew he would.
   "Dudley."
   "No, Harry."
   "Master," he said with a slow smile, happy to catch on so quick, and Dudley groaned loud, surging aginst him, getting even deeper, gripping him tighter.
   "Yes, Harry. Good."
   Harry nodded, drinking up the approval. He would be so good for Dudley. Only ever good.
   "Master," he moaned again, so close, and Dudley tightened his grip, sucked at Harry's neck and pounded into him until Harry blew in his fist, sending his fluids to the sheets between his knees. Dudley seized up right behind him and filled him again, gripping his hip tight. Harry sank into his hold and waited for Dudley to choose for him to be anywhere else.
   So he was right there, held in his lap, when Dudley laid them down and passed out over him.
   Dudley rolled over in his sleep and it woke Harry. And everything horrible crashed back around him, loss, sorrow, fear and guilt. He'd done something wrong, had lost something that was maybe precious. Hermione. McGonagall. Neville. Love. And Dudley wasn't holding him. He rolled into him, nuzzling his need until he was brought in with an arm, and everything eased up again. He didn't wonder at it, since it was all going away, and kissed the part of the arm that was closest to his face. He brought a hand up to hold it in place, and Dudley moaned.
   "You want more already?"
   He hadn't. He'd just felt so terrible in the cold air. But now he kind of did. Really did. Dudley rolled over to face him, and kissed him, and Harry crashed his mouth to Dudley's, opening his mouth quickly to swallow his tongue. A moan rumbled into his mouth, and he swallowed that, too. Dudley was hard, grinding into him, and Harry answered that as well. Absolute delight coupled with the already steel knowledge that Dudley would have never turned him down. Would have never closed his arms to him. He would take everything Dudley gave him and give it back. Forever. He would only ever make him happy.
   He rose up on him, never questioning if he would be allowed to, and reached back to hold his cock while he lowered his arse on him, and Dudley shouted as he woke up fully, and grabbed him by the hips. Harry ground himself onto him and grabbed his own cock and stroked as he rode him, and Dudley gripped his hips like a life line.
   "God, yes, Harry. Use me as a fuck toy."
   "Yes, Master!" And he did. He wanted to. Dudley was as deep as Harry could get him, grinding inside him against everything perfectly, and Harry pumped his dick frantically, eager to give Dudley everything, do everything for Dudley.
   "Oh my god." Harry watched Dudley watching him, and it was everything. Everything on his cousin's face told Harry that this was right and good. And that meant it was. He leaned back, letting his thighs take over the movements, where he knew it would hit him deeper, and ground Dudley's cock against something inside him that had him nearly weeping, and Dudley was just holding his hips up for him, giving him every thing he needed to work with until Harry was spurting onto his stomach, clenching around him.
   Dudley growled and held Harry, thrusted up into him until he came, which didn't take long, and Harry laid back down on him, keeping him inside, where he knew, knew Dudley wanted to be. That meant everything. He laid down on top of him and nestled in. "Dudley."
   "Harry," but it was said in warning. With a tone.
   "Master."
   "Oh god. Good, Harry. Only ever call me that ever again."
   "Yes, Master."
   "Oh god." He ground his hips against Harry, like he was trying to cum more, or fuck him more with his limp cock, held him tight, and made some sounds that were nearly whimpers and Harry felt happy. Needed and wanted. Snape hadn't wanted him. Uncle Vernon hadn't wanted him. They'd both let him know, too, just how much they'd never wanted him, before they proceeded to rip carelessly at his heart after changing their weak minds. But Dudley wanted him. Would stop at nothing to have him. And why couldn't they have just given him to Dudley from the beginning? Why did adults always think kids were just stupid?
   Except when they should, of course. Because a lot of adults had given Harry entirely too much credit from the beginning, when they should have planned differently. Should have planned for Harry being the stupid kid he was.
   But none of that mattered. He was finally in the arms of someone who wanted him and loved him. "Master," he moaned, sinking deep in the possibility that he could very well be - for the first time in his life - where he belonged.
   "Harry."
   "I love you. Thank you." He plied some kisses to Dudley's chin to cement his words that didn't mean enough.
   "Oh god. You're welcome, Harry. Love you, too." The limp length in his arse half chubbed out, but Dudley was asleep before it could amount to anything. Which was fine, as long as he held him. Harry snuggled into his arms and relaxed and closed his eyes again.
   Dudley woke and left him, and Harry shook in the bed until he returned. And Harry felt he should probably piss too, but he'd rather wait for anything Dudley might give him first. He was rewarded for it, as he was pounded into the mattress once more.
   He went downstairs after that, on Dudley's orders to find them something to eat. And he stopped on the way, passing the melted hole to his glasses in his cupboard. His hand shook a little as he put them on. He wanted nothing more than to run back upstairs to his cousin, and get filled again. It felt terrible to be alone, unheld, cold. And thinking. Dudley shouldn't be allowing this.
   His eyes blinked into adjustment as he looked down at the floor, where a dark stain existed. In the wood, very permanent. There was a smell, as well. Not strong, but there.
   Harry went to the kitchen, still shivering, and nearly crying. He couldn't keep it in, and cried out, shouting for Dudley, who ran down and picked him up off the floor. Harry had no idea he'd fallen, but it didn't matter anymore. "Please."
   "Please, what? Harry, what happened?"
   "Just stay here, please. Don't leave me alone."
   "Alright, Harry. It's alright." Harry nodded, wishing Dudley would just say that over and over. And never stop holding him. It hurt so much when he wasn't.
   "Jesus, that guy really did a number on you, didn't he?" Harry clutched harder, until his nails were digging in and Dudley hissed, but it turned to a low hum. "You want to carve me a bit? I want to do everything I had to listen to you and Dad do. Fucking idiot." Harry thought, strongly, about begging Dudley to order him to forget things. But that would have been worse, he thought. Would have been so much more than a slap in the face to everyone who'd died. He couldn't forget them. He just needed to wait until it hurt less. Like - like Sirius. And dead for the same reason - himself. How many people were dead because of him? It was a list that could never be compiled fully. Everyone in the world who'd died in the last year?
   No, he thought bleakly. Surely some of those deaths could be natural causes. Some.
   Dudley let him go to make some food, but Harry kept coming back to him, until Dudley came to the counter with him, close enough to touch at nearly all times.
   It took far longer than was reasonable to make some paltry meal of pasta and canned tuna, but Dudley didn't hold it against him. Just brought him back up the stairs for more fucking, which was just what Harry was hoping for.
   He laid down over Harry and kissed him as he covered him. "I want these." And he reached back to pull out the ropes from the night stand. Harry froze up, and watched. "I want them on you, though." Harry nodded under him. Kept his mouth shut as Dudley tied him to the bedposts. Tried not to shake under him.
   "Are you going to hurt me, now?" A part of him actually wanted that. Like it would have felt like justice. He should have been punished for all this. Someone should have taken out the price of their lives on his hide and soul. Like that should have been torn to make Dudley's horcrux.
   "No. God, Harry. Stop thinking that."
   "Yes, Master."
   "I didn't mean that. You think what you want to think, Harry. But I would never hurt you. Alright?" Harry nodded, not minding whether he may think things or not. It would help if he were forbidden from thinking that. It had been a moment of assurance that disintegrated as quickly as it had appeared. Then Dudley sat on him, ground against Harry's hips until he stiffened and pulled out the lube, and coated his fingers. He leaned down and kissed Harry, for a long time, tongue hungry and gentle at the same time, and he was moving, but Harry didn't know. He looked up in the mirror as Dudley moved on to his neck, and saw the boy was fingering himself.
   "Harry, I want you to fuck me. Can you do that?" Harry stared up at him, and nodded, but more out of reflex than anything else. What did he mean by that? The obvious? Hands already slick, he went back to working Harry's prick into the conversation, still kissing and sucking at Harry's neck, in the most heady, unimposing way, and Harry was moving with him soon. Whatever Dudley meant, it would be alright. He didn't even need to work for Dudley's love. It was everywhere. All he had to do was reach out and curl his hands around it. Except that they were tied up at the moment.
   "I just spent so much time thinking about fucking you, and never getting to. And hearing it all the time. And thinking about everything I could do with you. And that I would never waste any of you. Would do everything with you." And he kissed Harry, trailed from his face to his neck, suckling as he went, his shoulder then arm, and up that to his hand. Sucked on his fingers and gave out a few moans that rumbled into Harry's flesh.
   Harry was still shaking, but none of it was fear. Dudley looked back at him and smiled. Then he lowered again for Harry's face as he descended on him, and Harry pulled at his ropes, trying not to push on, trying to stay still, but it was incredible. Hotter than anything. He stayed still and let Dudley do everything, slowly taking him in, crushing him stretching around him in his own time, wonderful liquid heat that enveloped and held him, heartbeats that pulsed against him, muscles that twitched, it was heaven.
   Dudley went real slow, wincing about it, even as he moaned, until he was seated, then he rocked in place for a few heartbeats with a furious frown in place. Harry still tried not to move, but it was getting harder. Dudley tried a few long strokes, and Harry whined as he pulled at the ropes some more. He just wanted to hold him, pull his face close, but Dudley knew that, and lowered his mouth back to Harry's. He answered by surging up for him, but keeping his hips still for Dudley to set the pace. He moaned low into Dudley's mouth as the space closed, and Dudley answered with one of his own.
   Dudley pulled back to ask, "Is it good, Harry?"
   "Uh!" He had no words. Had never sounded so stupid in his entire life, he was sure. He pulled at the ropes like that would help, but he couldn't speak. And he should have tried harder. Especially for Dudley, so he did. "Yes, Master."
   "Bet it is, huh? You like this?"
   "Yes, Master. Please."
   "Please what?" And then Dudley pulled up a little, and Harry cried out, curling his legs helplessly.
   "That."
   "What?"
   "Please, move."
   Dudley laughed, and Harry felt that, gasped and jerked his hands down against the ropes.
   "Why the hell did I tie you up?"
   Harry shook his head. He didn't know, either. Dudley never stopped moving even as he reached over and untied him, and Harry put his hands about Dudley's neck holding him in tight, pulling up against him as soon as he could. Dudley moved quick then, humping him like he was trying to give him everything, and he was. Harry wouldn't last long like this, clutched against Dudley's chest and crunching his body against exploding every time he moved.
   He shook his head and couldn't fight it anymore. His balls tightened, his whole body tensed, everything, and he shouted, dug his nails in and held Dudley in place as he let go, unable to do anything else. All he could hear was his own pulse in his head, and Dudley's breaths, as they both waited for his brain to heal.
   Focus returned slowly, and his eyes centered on a bite mark on Dudley's chest, reddening angrily. He licked it, looking up. "'M sorry."
   Dudley laughed and it rippled around Harry's prick, pushing him out, and he surged against it, wincing as he did, but trying to stay inside with a tool that was weakening more with every moment. "You can do whatever you want to me Harry. If I own you, and I do, then that means you own me, too."
   Well, that was nonsense. But Harry wasn't going to question it, either. He licked and kissed at his damage just to show he was grateful either way. If he owned that little chunk of flesh or not, he probably shouldn't go about biting Dudley.
   His pulse and body eased, and he was released by Dudley after that. Then the other lifted off him and laid back, staring up. Harry rose over him, grateful and happy, and grasped his cock, still very hard and dark. He licked him, and Dudley curled a pillow under his head to watch. Harry looked up at him as he swallowed him, as far as he could before he felt the gag coming, and sucked. Dudley's legs rose around him, and Harry breathed, eased his throat and kept going. His throat stretched around him and he had to back off. Had to try again, then again until he could do this. But he was determined to do it for Dudley, who was nearly crying every time he tried, which just encouraged Harry more.
   The trick was in relaxing, but he got it, and when he reached Dudley's groin with his nose, a hand held him in place, firm and gripped in his hair. He stayed, gripping the bed on either side of his hips and Dudley fucked him, moaning loudly and praising him breathlessly. Harry swallowed quickly, feeling how his throat gripped him every time, feeling it also in Dudley's thighs under his arms as they jumped. He was released just as he was getting light headed, and sucked in some breaths before doing it again. Dudley let out a string of swears and more praise, and Harry pressed in with the hand helping, until Dudley was shooting down his throat, hot and pulsing.
   Gradually the grip in his hair let him up, and he heaved in some air. "Is there any part of you that isn't mine, Harry?"
   "No. Everything. Yours. Thank you, Master." His voice was wrecked, but Dudley was so happy.
   "For this?" With a smile. "Won't be a routine thing, Harry."
   "No. For saving me. You saved me."
   "I did." He nodded soberly. "You were worth it." Harry wasn't sure about that, but it was enough Dudley thought so.
   He pulled Harry up and held him as he kissed him, stroking him for a long time. They fell asleep like that.
   When Dudley woke he got free of Harry and left for a shower. After a few minutes of what felt like torture Harry followed, instantly hating the empty room, and Dudley stepped aside for him, giving him room under the water and smiling. Washed him off, lathering him up proper and getting everywhere. Harry was right to interrupt. Dudley wanted him with him always. He hadn't been lying, not that Harry had ever thought that. But he'd meant it.
   He dried them off and gave Harry some clothes for sleeping. And they curled up together on Harry's bed.
   "Who put the mirror up there? Was it Dad?"
   "No." He dug his face further into Dudley's arm.
   "No, Harry. It's good."
   "It's not. I hate it."
   "Really?" He nodded into Dudley's shoulder. "Look up, Harry."
   "Yes, Master," as he did.
   "Look at us."
   "Yes, master." And he did. He was curled against him, an arm holding him around his shoulder, his leg crossing both of Dudley's to the other side of him.
   "Doesn't that look good?"
   "Yeah." And it did.
   "I've got you." And he did. Wrapped in arms that would never hurt him. Would think about the commands given, and take back ones he didn't think were fair. Even ones Harry could live with, but hadn't made the cut in Dudley's estimation. Dudley would take care of him. He stared up, and decided maybe the mirror wasn't the gateway to hell he'd once thought. "I love it. I love looking up and seeing you in my arms, Harry." Harry nodded. And wrapped his fingers in Dudley's chest hairs, scratching lightly at the skin beneath.
   And then he couldn't stand that Dudley wasn't inside him. He pressed himself against Dudley's hip and the sound was very nearly a whine, "please, Master."
   "What, Harry," he moaned.
   "Please. Fuck me."
   "Oh god."
   And he was over him in a heartbeat, inside him in another. And plunging, pounding him. Harry cried, screamed under him his happiness, being filled and even more than that; he'd begged and received. That was everything for one as low as himself. Would Dudley ever deny him? He wrapped his legs behind Dudley's neck to give him every bit of his arse that he could make available to him, locked inplace and thanked him breathlessly while being plowed ruthlessly from above. Dudley would be the best Master he ever had, ever could have had.
   "I want you to ride me. I want to screw you on the couch, at the kitchen table, in the shower, I want you everywhere, and everything. Finally." Harry wondered just how much Dudley had heard back then, but nodded and kissed him as they made their way to the couch.
   And from there, after waking again, to the kitchen.
   Harry's body limped out over Dudley on the kitchen chair, and they both got their breath back against each other.
   "Make us some tea, Harry?"
   Harry looked down at Dudley, squeezed his legs around him and said "yes, Master," with as much devotion as he knew how to show. Dudley stared at him, tightening his hold despite his command, pulled his face down for another kiss before releasing him.
   Harry pulled himself off Dudley's cock and limped about the kitchen trying to make some food of what was there. They were living off the canned pasta sauce and spaghetti left in the cupboards. But the fridge would need some serious attention after so much neglect. And Dudley would need to leave Harry alone for long enough to attend to it. But Harry also, would need to leave Dudley alone for long enough as well. Which was hard to do, if only for the reason that Harry felt like absolute shit any time Dudley wasn't holding him. He'd gotten everyone killed. Except Luna, who could have been even worse off.
   "Can't you just magically make food?"
   "No. Doesn't work that way." He had to blink his eyes clear. And he went back to Dudley and sat in his lap, waiting for it all to go away. Dudley held him, and it did.
   "Can you heal us so we can fuck some more, then? Can you at least do that?"
   "I don't think I can do anything in this house. He put spells on it so no one can do anything." His arse was raw, but no more than Dudley's cock, really. Fucking was becoming painful, but everything else hurt so much more when Dudley wasn't on him or under him or doing anything to him. That was all he ever wanted. Ever again. But he needed Dudley inside him, and Dudley was nearly done. Nearly skinless. And completely unable to tell Harry no, he'd learned. "There are creams and potions," Harry said, desperate for more, even as he winced from moving around for more. It just felt so terrible to not be filled. "We could go out and buy some." In broad daylight, amongst people. That didn't sound good. When was the last time he had done anything like that? But he needed Dudley to fuck him. Like he needed anything.
   "You know who would know?"
   "No. I don't."
   "That LeStrange guy." Harry shrank back, not from Dudley, of course, but from the words. He burrowed his face into his chest. And shook his head.
   "I know some places we could go, maybe."
   "Alright then, feed us and we'll go. I suppose it's time to try and get Mum back anyway."
   "Yes, Master." He was eager enough to do parts of that. If Dudley was too sore to screw him, then things would fall apart soon. Harry would fall apart. Aunt Petunia. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but she was living as someone's servant, and that wasn't a nice thought. She couldn't be left like that.
   Dudley gave him clothes after, and a huge hoodie he could swim in when Harry mentioned how he should hide his face.
   "That's fine. A good idea, Harry." he smiled. "And on the way back we'll get Mum so someone can feed you proper."
   Harry wondered, said it as they stepped through the fire, "You know how to get your Mum back?"
   "Yeah. Granger got me her number. And the name of the people who have her."
   "What?" Hermione. Bloody genius. God, the world was so much dimmer without her. Dumber. Harry clutched at him, and was pulled in instantly, like home and welcome, and warm arms that would hold him whenever he needed it. And he needed it a lot.
   "It's alright. We'll get her back soon. I just wanted some time alone with you first." Harry nodded into his chest. Dudley's mum was sold and he'd been what? Biding his time? She could be hurt, or worse in that time. But Dudley was giving the orders here, doing the thinking. Harry was just getting filled, moment to moment. That was all. He pulled his hood closer. It was chilly, and the ground was covered in wet slushy dirty snow. But fresh wet flakes were coming down. It was pretty really, if one just looked up.
   They passed the Weasley Twins' emporium, and Harry said nothing, just marveled at how they would still be there. And he walked by, hiding his face. He would get no one else killed. Ever again.
   Harry led him, further on into Knockturn alley, and whispered to him that he needed to ask the questions. Anyone would recognise him. Dudley accepted that, nodding. "You're famous, right?"
   "Yeah."
   He asked the first person they saw about a potions shop and were directed further on, and into one. The smells immediately brought Harry to Hogwarts, potions class, and he had to push that away. Dudley was approached by a filthy handed old man, gnarled and stooped. "Can I help you?"
   "Yeah. I'm using my fuck toy so much I'm rubbing my cock down to a nub. You got anything for that?"
   Harry hung his head and cooked under the hood. Jesus Dudley.
   The man laughed, and brought out a bottle of something. "This, if applied to the ... affected area, or areas, I suppose, will take just a moment, and you'll be good."
   "Good. I'll take a case."
   "Excellent. And I can see you're young, but would you also like something for stamina? Fluid replacement?"
   "You got that? No. No I'm good."
   "Yes. I'm sure you are. Give it a few years," and he laughed. Dudley made some sound but Harry still didn't look up. Fluid replacement. Christ. They walked out with a little case of bottles, and Harry wished he could crawl back into Dudley's lap right there.
   "Where did you get money from?"
   "There was a whole bunch of it at home. They gave Dad an allowance, and he didn't use most of it." Harry had nothing to say to that. He'd already known it, even.
   "Dudley, I'm sorry you had to do that."
   "Do what?"
   "Kill him."
   "It was nothing. I told you. I would do anything for you." Harry whimpered, understanding, perhaps, that Dudley really did mean that. Really. And it was warm and terrifying. He reached out and took the case. Dudley let it go and Harry stepped up so he would hold him. He did. He always would. Some of the poisons leaked out of Harry and he stayed there, pressing himself against him until he felt better.
   When his shoulders lowered, Dudley rubbed him. "Now, take us to this Ministry everyone goes on about."
   "Yes, Master." Dudley rumbled pleasure low, passing it through his chest to Harry's face, and he led him, through twisting streets and people, to the terrifying structure. He needed to hide himself here, as well. He pulled his hood forward and cradled the box in one arm.
   They were directed to the newer department of Muggle Subjugation, so very bleakly and honestly named that Harry could only think of poor Neville saying how they weren't even hiding what they were doing. Completely embracing it. Dudley handed over the number that apparently represented his mother, and the clerk behind the desk adjusted his glasses, then looked back at them.
   "Your wand, please."
   "I don't erm, have one." Dudley said.
   "You don't have one?" The clerk frowned, wondering what to do next. And Harry knew Dudley wouldn't be able to do anything. Muggles and the Wandless didn't have rights, or personhood. He pulled out his little birch twig full of nail clippings. "I have one. If it'll help."
   "Mm." The clerk frowned over that, too. "Well, we don't have any specific orders to disregard these. They are indeed wands." Its properties were recorded, along with Harry's whispered name, to which the clerk paused, and gave Harry a look, as though to confirm what he'd just said. Then it changed. It said too much. Accusing, blaming. And it was gone in a split second, as though this man knew it was dangerous to be discontent with the current world. He wrote the name down as Harry absorbed the shock quietly, staring at the floor for everything he was worth.
   This man had probably done nothing, just like everyone else. Nearly every other adult in the wizarding world that had thanked Merlin for a baby that saved them accidentally, then just a few short years later sat quietly cowering in their homes again waiting for that same baby to save them all. Like that was where good things came from - doing nothing. Divine intervention without the divine.
   Harry picked at his fingers, hoping none of that had shown on his face. If they left without Dudley's mum, then Harry would be in trouble. Especially if it had actually been his fault.
    They had to sit and wait for a time while the owners were contacted. Harry picked flesh off his fingers and kept his head as hidden in the hood as he could. Then, a woman strode down the hall at them, entirely composed about it all but dressing down the ministry employee who struggled to keep up to her, even though he had to have been leading the way this far. "We set through all the proper paper work to acquire this woman. I paid good money for her as well. I have no intention of letting her go."
   The man she was talking to cleared his throat and looked at Harry and Dudley as they approached.
   "Ah, here they are," like he was being rescued, "the ... gentlemen who came for her."
   The woman turned and looked at them and on her way back to the clerk for more of the mild scolding looked again at them and stopped whatever she'd been about to say. "Oh. I see."
   "I can pay, ma'am. I have gold." They all looked at Harry, making the moment far more than it needed to be.
   "That won't be necessary, Mr. Potter. I know who you are. She's all yours of course." Harry didn't know who this woman was, but it seemed, she, like everyone, know who he was. Something he'd never gotten used to in all his years. "In fact you're just the one I was holding her for."
   "Oh. Er, thank you." How the hell had she or anyone known that? Were muggles being marketed before being sold? Or maybe just anyone considered his family. The woman left, and they had to wait again, but not nearly as long, before she came back - with Aunt Petunia.
   She was wearing fucking pillow cases. One for the top and one for the bottom. To her everlasting credit they were clean and it seemed they'd even been pressed. Like she'd clung to dignity as well as she could, and Harry envied her for it. She held herself upright, but Harry could make out a faint limp. Only because he was looking for it, though. She was very much holding herself together. It broke when she got near, though, and she sank in Dudley's arms, but kept quiet, sniffling. Harry stared at the floor, and followed them out after sending the woman another look. She was watching it all with a suspiciously soft face, which could have been worse than the clerk's accusing glare that had lasted a fraction of a second, if it hadn't been the price of retrieving Aunt Petunia for Dudley.
   They faltered ahead of him, and Harry made himself be present just enough to know they had no idea where to go. He knew enough by then to know where they were, and stepped to the side, and Dudley followed him, his mother in tow. Harry led them through the building gradually to the hall of fireplaces. And from there they were back in Dudley's home.
   And then Aunt Petunia fell on Dudley in full force, sobbing outright, crying, telling him how he was the greatest, the bravest, the sweetest son ever. She'd either forgotten about her husband, or forgiven Dudley for that. Good for her to be able to leave it all behind like that, really. It was something that Harry could understand though, as it was something that he himself tried to not think about. If he could help it.
   If he could just build up barriers as Snape had, around nearly everything that had happened in the past eight months, then he would be alright most of the time, he felt.
   He quietly fled the room with his little crate, a hand spread out over the jars to quiet them. He had no place there, and he couldn't very well ask Dudley to fuck him in front of his mother. And she definitely wouldn't appreciate him seeing her cry like that. Hysterical was what it was. Harry sympathised, and knew that would just enrage her. He spared a glance for the cupboard, and ran upstairs to his room.
   And there he waited. Soon. Dudley would hold him again soon. He wrapped himself in the blankets that smelled like him, like them, and waited.

   Dudley came up after a few hours. "What're you doing in here?"
   "I'm sorry. I just didn't know where to go." He jumped out of the bed and went right to him, and put his arms about his neck, and Dudley encased him in warmth and acceptance and love. "It's alright, Harry. It's your home, too. You can come up here if you want to."
   Harry nodded. "Thank you."
   "It is your home, Harry. I know you never thought of it like that. But it is."
   "Thank you."
   "Come down for dinner."
   "Yes, Master."
   Dudley took his hand and led him, and he followed to the dining room. A plate was set in front of him, and he kept his eyes down. She sat down, and they ate actual food, not what Harry had been patching together for them.
   She was wearing real clothes by then, her own. "So is this all working out for you? You have everything you wanted now?"
   "Yes, Mum. All happy. Aren't you?"
   "I don't know, happy enough, I suppose, given the options." She laughed a tight little thing into tense air. "I think so. But what you're doing isn't healthy."
   And that was it, the attack. Harry had to even out his breaths, wretchedly aware of how weak he had to be to need that before he could speak. "Please, may I leave?"
   "No. Eat your food, Harry."
   "Yes, Master."
   "You need to eat. You still look like shit, you know." Harry nodded as he took a bite. Dudley turned back to his mum. "He spent that whole time with Mr. Snape."
   "Yes. I know. What a terrible man. Cold and mean and creepy. He was as a child and he wouldn't have grown out of it. Those aren't things one grows out of. It couldn't have been a good time." Harry thought that it almost had been, though. And he almost choked up again to think the man was dead. That had all ended wrong. But he should never think that. He was with Dudley. He was safe. But Snape was dead. That had been ... wrong. And he didn't know why. He might not have even said the man's name in that whole time, he thought. Perhaps, perhaps to Neville, but never to Snape. It had all been sort of stilted. And now it burned harshly to think about.
   And she'd known him as a child. She had. He would need to find every photo album in this home, and make sure there were none of her in them to ever be seen by his cousin. Did she keep photos of her?
   "Eat your breakfast, boy."
   "Yes, Ma'am." God, he'd been staring at her. Like asking for it. He shovelled some food in his mouth and kept his eyes down. She still had the collar on, too.
   "I was beat in the first home I was sent to."
   "I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling that was his cue.
   "Beat so bad that an elf sent me to their hospital, St. Mungo's? To his own danger. And then a different family took me from there. The Browns." Harry shrugged his shoulders up about himself. This wouldn't be better. "And they were nice. Very nice. They never spoke to me. It's not proper for them to speak to ... to the help, of course. But they made sure, it seemed, to speak often of you when I was serving."
   "I'm sorry."
   "They spoke highly of you, actually. And carefully, of course. And seemed to think you were still trying to defeat their Dark Lord."
   "I'm not. I promise." He was nothing. A pebble in the riverbed, worn smooth. Any torrents she might offer would flow smoothly over, finding nothing to weather.
   "Are you sure?" God, she was talking to him. That had happened a scant few times in their lives together.
   "I am. I'm nothing."
   "Harry, don't say that."
   "Yes, Master."
   "Dudley, you're being good to him, right?"
   "Yes, Mum. I've never been so good. Right, Harry?"
   "Right. He's been very nice, very good. Please, may I leave?"
   "Alright, Harry. Cut that out, though. She'll think I'm cuffing you around."
   "He's not. Really." He said it to the table before he fled. If he couldn't throw himself at Dudley, and he most certainly could not at the dining table, then he could hide in his room until he could.
   It was torture to sit at the table, close but not close enough, not have Dudley hold him and let him know it was alright. It might not have been. It wasn't. And it was also torture to sit in his room alone. In those moments, especially when he was alone, and he could think. Those were hell.
   As soon as Dudley came up, Harry threw himself at him, trying not to cry. "I'm sorry. Please, just stay here."
   "Alright. It's alright, Harry."
   He nodded. It was nice to hear.
   "Where're the potions?"
   "They're here. But they're ointments. Not for eating."
   "Right. Wonder what would have happened?" He was laughing. Like it was funny. And it probably would have done nothing to him. Perhaps he was invincible. Harry felt hope at that, but it was only chased with fear. Like hope should be. He had a habit of getting people killed, but maybe Dudley wouldn't be one of those. Unless the Dark Lord ever changed his mind.
   Harry quickly grabbed one, and came at Dudley before he thought up any reason for leaving the room. Clawed at Dudley's fly with one hand, bottle in the other. Dudley smiled down at him and kept his hands to himself.
   "Yeah, take care of me, Harry."
   "Yes, Master," he breathed, nearly happy and reassured. Knowing he really would be in a few minutes. And then he had Dudley in his hand, and was smearing the ointment on him. Dudley moaned, and closed his eyes.
   "That's real nice." He opened them again and looked down. "Works quick, too." He grabbed Harry and turned himself, backed him up against the door. "How come you're still dressed?"
   "I'm sorry," Harry said, and quickly shrugged out of his clothes. Dudley should have commanded him to not be dressed in here. Would save a lot of time. But Harry supposed he could think from time to time as well. Maybe. Little things like clothes.
   Dudley pressed into him, crushing him wonderfully against the door. Harry wrapped his arms around his neck and braced, lifted his legs around Dudley's waist, and Dudley smiled more for him. "What, right here?" Harry nodded, lips parted and hopeful. "Dad ever fuck you against the door like this?" Harry shook his head. Uncle Vernon wouldn't have been able to do that. His gut would have made it impossible. "Give me the bottle."
   "Yes, Master." Harry handed it over, and Dudley smeared some more on his hand, rubbed it over his cock. Then slowly pressed himself inside, just a bit. Harry moved, trying to lower himself, and Dudley held him up. "Please, please more."
   "Yeah? Where, Harry?"
   Harry smiled weakly, trying like hell to fight Dudley's restraining grip. "Inside." Like he didn't know. "Please, Master. More." Dudley shoved himself inside Harry. He gasped, for the pain, but then again for the cooling healing that followed. Dudley sat inside for a few moments, kissing and nuzzling, and Harry could stop thinking finally. Could melt around him and just be happy. Then Dudley reamed him, making him cry out until they came.
   He fucked him again before they fell asleep, all healed and new and not willing to waste that. And Harry slept in his arms. If he woke outside that circle, he would nuzzle himself back into it, and each time Dudley would pull him in even fiercer, give a grunt and not even wake for it.
   Dudley ordered him down for breakfast, and on the way he asked Dudley on the steps, "why does she still have the collar on?"
   "It needs to be taken off with magic."
   "I could do it."
   "I'll bring it up."
   "I would rather keep it," was what she said at the table when Dudley offered. Harry looked up at her then, and just as quickly away. Had he heard right? "I ... I always wanted to ... do magic. I even wrote that school, trying to get in. But they said that you have to be born with it. And this collar is a way around it. Now I can do things. Not big things. Not something someone trained as a wizard might be impressed with," and waited for Harry to speak up, but he was offering nothing. A pebble. Riverbed. "Just things that help with housework, but it's still wonderful." She snapped her fingers and dishes in the kitchen started a migration towards the sink, which started filling up. The dish soap came over and made an offering to the dance, and Harry watched, numb. And then his aunt giggled like a girl and he jumped.
   "That's crazy, Mum. You're fucking joking." And then it wasn't alright. Dudley sounded angry, in fact. "So every time you called him a freak, you were just jealous?" Harry shook his head slightly, hoping Dudley might see it from the corner of his eye. If there was poison spewed here at the table Harry didn't want it done on his behalf. He wanted a smooth river bed for every moment he couldn't spend with Dudley inside him. Those were the only times anything felt alright.
   "Yes. Is that what you want to hear? I was jealous. I'm sorry, Harry." He wisely kept his head down. What if he asked to leave right then? Because he really wanted to. Wanted this moment to be far behind him and not happening. It would be seen the wrong way. Wouldn't be seen like he needed away, but that he was refusing her apology. He probably needed to respond. But he didn't know what would be closest to a nothing so he might go back to being a smooth pebble.
   "It's nothing," he whispered.
   "It's not nothing, Harry."
   "Please, it's nothing, Dudley. Please."
   "Alright. It's alright. Here, come sit beside me."
   "Yes, Master." Harry jumped up and pulled the chair already beside Dudley closer to him before falling into it. Not a hair of space between, and pressed himself against him. Dudley took his hand underneath, and Harry clung digging fingers into him. A split moment of what the hell was he now? But it was answered quickly by Pebble. He was giving off jagged edges and he needed those smooth. But he couldn't let go. Dudley reached across the table and brought his plate close, and Harry had something to fidget with again.
   "I'd like you to eat some more, if you can."
   Harry nodded. He could eat for Dudley. The dishes were nearly done, rinsing themselves in the water as they made their way to the drying rack, making comforting noises to fill the room.
   "So how come she can do magic and you can't?"
   "I don't know. Maybe because it's elf magic? I think it's stronger than wizard magic in ways."
   "You better not be lying, Harry."
   "No. I can't. I just think that, I don't know." But Dudley was smiling, like it was alright. Then he said it was, and Harry went back to trying to eat.

   When it was over, and he finally had Dudley back with him, in him and over him in his room, he asked if he could sit beside him every time at the table.
   "Of course, Harry. God, you're being everything I knew you would be. Are you happy?"
   Thank god he'd asked it while inside him, and Harry could give the right truth. "Uh huh." He even nodded into Dudley's neck with it.
   "Good. Because I am."


A/N  I would very much enjoy some criticisms, just rip it apart, let me know every bit I fucked up, or just ruined out right. lol.
Also, if someone wanted to fix the ending, I've left that option open. Anyone can add a chapter. No fucks given, and help yourself.

Also also, I really don't know what was wrong with it, so I just put the other one somewhere else. I don't think I can say where, so I won't. It's called More Waste of Space, under SparklySprinkles, and it's only visible to members. I didn't make it easy, sorry. There's just too many stupid kids over there, and I really don't want the wrong people reading my awful, awful shit.
- 25
- 26
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

I Don't Think You're a Waste of Space