Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom In Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 29614 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All original characters and plots are mine. No money was made with this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
A/N: Warning is in effect. M for Mature: violence, child abuse, sexual situations. This chapter will address sensitive topics. I tried to approach it honestly and still keep things reasonable.

A/N2: Thank you thank you thank you to my awesome fact-checking beta, Nox Lumen! You really keep me on my toes! Thanks to the wonderful Jadedsupergirl and Cat for making sure the grammar and smoothness is all good to go. Couldn’t do it without you three. Really!

…

Title

May 22^nd, 1995

Magical District, Rome

“Grandpere,” Armand lightly scolded.

White teeth flashed in the light. “Amadeo!” The old man moved to Armand and gave him a hug. “You have returned. Your mother will be pleased.”

“I have not been able to contact her.”

“She’s in Spain, visiting your sister and her new husband,” the old man answered with a wicked grin. “I believe your mother is wishing for them to have a baby soon, but she will come flying home as if wings were attached to her feet when she learns you have returned.”

Armand smiled, pulled away, and gestured at the others. “Let me introduce you. This is Remus Lupin, a friend. And this is Laine…”

“Lukas,” Laine interrupted. In his opinion, they didn’t have a father. They’d been orphans all their lives and would remain that way. “And this is Hale Matthews.”

Armand inclined his head slightly. “This is my mother’s father, Zeus Zabini. He will provide you with wands.”

“Wands, eh?” Zeus looked them over.

Hale stiffened as he watched the man’s dark brown eyes fade to the white of the blind.

Laine sneered, unimpressed. “How do wands work?” he asked Armand, still keeping his eyes on the strange man.

“They tame and focus your magic,” Armand answered as he moved to browse the shelves. His thick braid swayed between his shoulder blades. “Keyed to certain words, magic will perform specific actions dependably. You and Hale have mastered wandless magic, but such magic is wild in nature. Without a wand, much versatility is wasted.”

Zeus barked a laugh. “You brought me a challenge, Amadeo.” His eyes stared blindly through Hale. “Strange magics surround them. Tell me, children, have you ever held a wand?”

“No, sir,” Hale answered and grabbed Laine’s hand - nervous.

As soon as they came into contact, Zeus’ eyes widened. “I see.” He wandered away, muttering under his breath.

Remus gave Hale a reassuring look. “Don’t worry. Getting your first wand is always a bit mysterious.”

Hale nodded but said nothing. Laine was too busy watching the old man to really pay attention to the others. He wanted to know what made the man react the way he had, but even when Laine unfolded his mind, he met a smooth barrier that he could not cross. That had never happened before. It was just another thing to be unhappy about. Magic was almost more trouble than it was worth.

“Here we are. Let’s try these.” Zeus returned with six wand boxes. He opened two and picked up the wands within. “Don’t let go of each other. Try these.”

Hale took the wand handed to him in his right hand while Laine took the other in his left. Conveniently, those were their dominant hands. Lightning zapped out of the two wands with a loud clap of thunder. Hale jumped, dropping the wand in surprise. Laine managed to hold onto his, but he quickly handed it over to Zeus when the old man reached for it.

“What was that?” Laine demanded. He hadn’t expected the damn things to be dangerous. He turned and examined Hale’s hand, checking for burns. “Are you okay?”

“I’m all right. It just startled me.” He looked - anxious - at the smoking holes in the wall across the room. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Laine snapped. It was the least the bastard deserved for not warning them.

“Take hands again. Try these.” Zeus offered two more wands.

“They won’t hurt you,” Armand reassured when Laine hesitated. “The worst that can happen is for your magic to spike and cause damage to the store.”

“You’ll need wands,” Remus agreed. “Though why you have to hold hands to find them I’m not sure.”

“Because they’re bonded,” Zeus answered with an impatient glare. “Got to find wands that accept both of them or they’ll only be a hindrance!”

“Bonded?” Remus gaped at the two teens. “What do you mean, they’re bonded?”

Laine stared back at him blank-faced.

“Come on, come on! I don’t have all day,” Zeus growled querulously.

They went through a dozen wands. The store was looking a little worse for wear when they finally laid hands on the two that were theirs. Hale’s wand sparked energetically like a sparkler, white and gold light sizzling prettily from the tip. Laine, however, produced a luminescent ribbon of mist that swirled and snaked through the air.

“Thank you!” Hale’s whole face shown with wonder and gratitude. The wand felt alive and warm in his hand.

Laine released Hale and pulled out the money pouch Armand had given him. “How much?”

“Would of found the wands sooner, but I hate to use Ollivander’s stock. He always did find the better ingredients, though my wands are by far better crafted. You’ve got one of mine, boy!” Zeus pointed to Laine, his eyes now back to their normal deep brown. “Feels perfect, don’t it?”

“It does,” Laine agreed. No use insulting the man, especially since he hadn’t paid and the wand could still be taken away.

“What happened with Ollivander?” Remus asked quietly.

“Death Eater attack. Happens months before the barrier went up. Captured and killed him. The wands that survived were brought to me by his elf before it committed suicide. People are waitin’ for the curtain to drop, for the Dark Lord to attack the rest of the world, but the Dark Lord is biding his time, waiting for something.” Zeus eyed Hale knowingly. “This boy here, he got the wand twinned with the Dark Lord’s own. Pheonix feather. Holly. Ollivander said the one who claimed this wand was destined for great things.”

horror fear

“And mine?” Laine stepped in front of Hale, shielding him from view. “What do you say about mine?”

Zeus cackled. “Eh, you know what you are already, boy. Anyone can see that. Basalisk fang, ashwood. You have a real gift of poison and death, while the phoenix is known for life and healing. Your wands are perfect compliments, and why wouldn’t they be? You are two pieces of a whole, ain’t ya?”

“I don’t understand,” Remus murmured faintly. He looked pale as a ghost. Hearing of Ollivander’s death had hit him hard. “If Harry’s wand and… You-Know-Who’s share the same core… Are you saying that his wand is good for healing, too?”

“Coulda been, coulda been.” Zeus nodded quickly, reminding Laine of a bobble-head doll. “Thinks he’s healing the world. Putting things right. But he twisted his purpose along the way. Corrupting something pure is darker than doing evil with something dark already. He gets his power from twisting good things into bad. Where do you think he learned it? He started with himself!”

“Careful what you say,” Armand advised.

“No one here but you and your friends. I’m safe, aint I?” Zeus grinned and winked a mischievous eye. “Gots to be speaking truth when I can.”

“We should go,” Laine encouraged as he grabbed Hale’s shoulder. He didn’t like the horrible weight of dread seeping through their bond.

Zeus flapped a hand at them. “Go on. I’m sure you’ll be wanting food soon. Growing boys are always hungry! Eh, Amadeo?”

“We almost ate Mother out of house and home,” the man agreed with a smile. He turned and guided the others before him. “Thank you, Grandpere. Tell mother I’m home.”

The door shut on the old man’s wild laughter.

“I didn’t pay him,” Laine realized, but he didn’t turn around to go back. He continued walking, one arm wrapped around Hale’s shoulders.

“I’ll settle the tab later,” Armand reassured. “Would you like to return home?”

Remus said nothing as he followed. He was still reeling in shock over everything they’d learned.

“Not yet.” Laine retraced their steps to the more populated and bright section of the district. He guided Hale toward a shop he’d noticed earlier and gently nudged Hale inside. Don’t worry about it, Hale. I’ll take care of everything.

Hale nodded shakily and offered a limp smile. His nerves still rang, but it slowly faded under the mental weight Laine leaned on him. It was a warning and reminder both. Laine wouldn’t tolerate Hale working himself up, but he was also reminding Hale he was there. And really, what did Hale have to worry about? Laine always took care of him.

Reassured, Hale stepped into the store and let out a happy gasp. A pet store! He moved through the displays, Laine keeping him in sight but giving him some space. Hale predictably stopped by the kittens. They were so cute! Unlike normal cats, they came in many different colors. The little navy one was especially adorable. Hale cuddled the baby, rubbing his cheek against the soft fur. The tiny creature purred and batted at Hale’s glasses, revealing sky blue pads that matched his eyes. Hale laughed and gently set him back in the tank.

There was a whole section devoted to owls of all things. He moved through the majestic birds. Most were sleeping, but a few had their large, round eyes open. They stared at him unblinkingly. A snowy white one flew to a closer perch and turned its head almost upside down to look at him. Hale laughed and ran a finger down the pristine feathers. They were very soft.

“We use them to send mail,” Remus explained, expression gentle. “They carry letters on their legs. There’s a spell cast all over Europe so they never get lost.”

“I’d love to have one,” Hale murmured, staring into those large golden eyes.

“You can, you know. Severus and Armand wouldn’t mind if you brought her back.”

Hale shook his head. Living on the run meant not getting attached to things. He didn’t even need to ask Laine. They had no idea where they’d be next week or their circumstances. He couldn’t take care of a bird.

Something about the teen’s refusal bothered Remus. This was James’ son. He’d been denied so much and never allowed to really have a childhood. Worse, the war was waiting for him, promising to expose Hale to even more horror. Suddenly it was the most important thing in the world, giving Harry an owl. He wanted Hale to have this one normal thing.

“They’re very independent,” Remus coaxed. “They can hunt for food and do well on their own. How about we share her? That way, if you can’t take care of her, I will.”

Hale hesitated. It sounded lovely. He’d always wanted a pet, but…

“What is it?” Laine stepped up to them. He’d been a few aisles down looking at the snakes, but he’d come over as Hale’s longing rose.

“We were just deciding to share an owl. They’re needed for the mail system, and you really could use one.” Remus lifted his arm, but the owl hopped to Hale’s shoulder instead. Remus grinned. “I think she likes you.”

Hale stroked the bird’s chest feathers as the great owl nibbled at his hair affectionately. He turned his eyes up to Laine. “Remus said he’d take care of her if I ever couldn’t.”

Laine frowned, but really when Hale looked at him like that, it was very hard to say no. “Fine. As long as you remember we might have to leave it behind.” He just hoped the happiness the pet would give Hale would outweigh the grief of leaving the bird behind when the time came.

“Thank you!” Hale turned his face into the soft feathers by his cheek to hide the tears glittering in his eyes. He turned back with the biggest grin, joy practically sparkling around him. “This has been a great day!”

“We should go,” Armand murmured quietly. “The sun is setting and the Alley is quickly emptying. I don’t think we should stay past nightfall.”

Laine looked around and saw the man was right. Even the store clerk was staring at them anxiously, watching the darkening sky. He nodded and guided Hale to the counter where he quickly paid for the owl and the few things they’d need; treats, perch, and other such items. As the accessories piled up, Laine sighed, regretting the decision. For so long, they’d lived with just the bare essentials. It was pointless to buy things just to leave them when the next attack came. Possessions slowed you down, gave you more things to keep track of and worry about. But Hale was obviously happy after a stressful day, so he didn’t voice his discontent.

Armand led them outside and grabbed hold of the boys. Hale kept a firm hand on his new pet, while Remus carried all the supplies shrunk in a bag. Laine closed his eyes. They disappeared with a crack, only to appear a moment later in the middle of a storm. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Hale quickly lifted a hand to shield the bird which hooted and ruffled her feathers.

“Would you like to learn a new spell?” Remus lifted his wand, the tip pointing to the sky.

Laine quickly mimicked him. “What spell?”

“The Umbrella Charm.” He reached forward and adjusted Laine’s grip. “Give it a full twirl. Try to keep the tip as steady as possible or you’ll have a hole in the center of the shield.”

Laine and Hale tried a few times until they got the motion right while Armand watched indulgently from under his own successful charm.

“Good.” Remus stepped closer. “Now do it again, this time incanting aguaius repelum.” He cast the charm slowly, making sure they could see. An invisible barrier appeared above his head. Water hit it and rolled off, just like an umbrella.

Eager, Laine’s brow crinkled as he held his new wand. Very carefully he mimicked the movement Remus had taught him and called, “Aquaius repelum!”

Hale echoed him.

Nothing. The two teens shared a glance. Laine frowned and drew on his power. The wand sparked dangerously and Remus hastily intervened.

“No, don’t force magic into the wand. You’ll overload it. It draws on your power naturally. Later you’ll learn how to filter power directly to the wand without causing damage. For now, just relax your barriers. Let it connect with your core. Hold the image of what the spell should do in your mind, then say the words and do wand movement simultaneously.”

“Allow me,” Armand offered, stepping up to the trio. He demonstrated the spell even slower than Remus had.

Laine titled his head. He could actually feel the magic as it was drawn from Armand and siphoned into the wand and out.

Hale was muttering the spell under his breath as he continuously twirled his wand. He got a few sparks and the rain occasionally seemed displaced around him, but nothing solid was happening. Laine, however, worked silently. Picturing exactly what he felt when Armand had cast the spell. When he felt he was ready, he cast the spell for the second time. “Aquaius repelum!” Laine felt a slight draw on his power and suddenly a barrier hung over his head. He grinned and began to lower his wand, only to have rain pelt down on him.

Remus smiled at the disgruntled expression on the teen’s face. “It’s orientated on your wand,” he explained, and then he turned to the younger teen still muttering and trying to get the spell to work. “Like this, Harry.”

“Come here,” Laine called before Remus could wrap his arms around the teen to help him with his wand movements.

Remus frowned as Harry immediately went to the older teen’s side, but he figured they were still not used to everyone. It was only natural that they stick together so closely in a new environment. Wasn’t it? He remembered what Zeus Zabini had said about the boys. They were bonded. He was worried it had something to do with Severus. What could the man have done?

There were so many magical bonds, some were benign and others were more sinister. Severus may have loved Lily, but he hated James with a passion. However, Remus had spent the last four years with the taciturn man and he trusted Severus wouldn’t do anything to an innocent child. Even if it was James’ son.

“Wow!” Hale reached up and cleaned off his glasses, now safe under his own rain-barrier. His owl hooted again and shook out her feathers, sending water flying.

Laine laughed at the face Hale made. “Let’s hurry. We still have a while to walk.”

They made it back in less than ten minutes, just in time for dinner. Severus looked up as they entered, his expression carefully masked. Harry looked happy. He was dressed in Wizarding robes and smiling widely as he talked to Remus. A gorgeous snow owl sat on his shoulder, occasionally grooming the teen’s still damp hair. Laine followed directly behind. He also wore a black Wizarding robe.

Lean and tall, Laine reminded Severus of himself, but the boy was admittedly more attractive. His chin-length hair was plastered wetly to his high-boned cheeks while his doll-like lips curled slightly upward on the left. His nose was long and had a slight bump toward the top but wasn’t overly big. Long black lashes framed his eyes, making them appear even larger. They were definitely his most striking feature. Severus’ mother had used her own cold blue eyes as a weapon just as Laine did.

Laine subtly guided them toward the opposite end of the table from Severus. He felt the man’s dark eyes watching him and tried to ignore it. Shopping had reinforced the need to learn all he could about magic. Clearly, he had no choice; they had to stay until Laine had a better handle on the Wizarding world. However, he’d meant what he’d said. If Severus stepped out of line again, he would take Hale and find someone else to teach them.

“I like Hedwig. It’s a good name,” Hale reassured Remus as they sat.

“She was known as the White Witch because of the famous winter festivals she threw,” the man explained with a content smile.

Severus forced his attention away from the boys and onto the man sitting next to him. “Things go well?” he asked, putting his napkin in his lap.

“Very well. They have wands and saw a bit of what magic is capable of,” Armand answered softly. Tonks and Remus were chatting with the boys about their trip, so they wouldn’t be overheard. “We also saw evidence of the war. Laine understands that they aren’t ready to be on their own. He won’t let what happened get in the way of learning to protect Hale.”

Severus frowned, still distressed about that. He scooped up some mashed potatoes a bit harsher than was called for.

Armand tapped his friend’s wrist once with a single finger. “You cannot hope to deal with them until you understand. Withhold judgment until you see all the memories or you will likely lose the boys for good.”

Severus sneered, but he said nothing to dispute the good advice. He knew Armand was right. He just hoped he was able to go through the memories quickly. He didn’t know how long he could leave things as they were. Impatiently, he sat through dinner. He hoped he’d find some answers when he viewed the first wave of copied memories.

xXx

August, 1982

Thirteen years ago

Four-year-old Laine was yanked from a deep, peaceful sleep and dragged from bed.

“Come on! Hurry!” Miss Heather yelled in his face.

It was dark. The air was thick, making Laine cough. His heart was pounding; Miss Heather was screaming, “Hurry! Hurry! Go downstairs!” The other kids stumbled and cried as she pushed them toward the door. Laine’s pajamas grew damp with sweat. It was so hot. Then he heard it. A roar. Like a dragon from a story book. Then he saw the flickering light. Yellow and hot. Fire!

Laine knew fire was bad. He grabbed Jillian’s hand. She was the only one younger than him at the orphanage and she slept in the bed next to his. He pulled her downstairs, ignoring her loud, fearful screams. Bigger kids were running away. The nurses were yelling for them to get out. Laine stumbled as someone slammed into him from behind and hit his shoulder on the wall. He lost Jillian’s hand and started to cry.

Then he was outside; he turned to look at the front of the orphanage. It was burning! Flames jumped and flashed from every window. There were still people inside. He could hear them scream even over the cries from all the kids around him. Sirens pierced the night. People came running from all down the street.

Laine turned as a man took his hand. He looked up, tears streaking his face, shocked and afraid.

“Come on. I’ll take you somewhere safe,” the man said gently. “We have to get you off the street.”

Laine allowed himself to be tugged through the crowd. When they finally breached the press of bodies, the man swung Laine up on his hip. Laine couldn’t tear his eyes away from the burning building. It filled his eyes. His home was burning to the ground.

He was spun around and placed inside a van. “Buckle yourself in,” the man ordered gently.

Laine struggled to obey, but something didn’t seem right. “But… where are we goin’?”

The man turned around with a white cloth in his hand. Laine’s eyes widened as the man slapped it down over his mouth and nose. Laine struggled and kicked, but he was falling sideways and blackness crawled across his mind.

xXx

Laine woke and immediately rolled onto his side and threw up. Tears streaking his face, he looked around. He was in a very small room. He could almost touch each wall if he stood in the center and reached both ways. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling. The walls were bare; the floor was tiled. The only thing in the room with him was a big white towel that he had wrapped around him like a blanket. A grate in the middle of the floor caught his attention. His vomit was sliding toward it and dripping down.

He shuddered and crawled into the furthest corner from the only door. He wasn’t stupid. In fact, the nurses had told him he was the smartest little boy they had ever seen. Laine knew there were even bets on how many grades he’d skip once he started school. The most popular guess had been three. Laine secretly promised himself to skip four, just to surprise them. So he wasn’t stupid. He knew he was in big trouble. He knew the man who’d taken him wanted to do bad things to him. He knew it might hurt a lot.

Shaking, Laine drew his legs up to his chest and curled into a tight ball. He sat there for an eternity, wrapped around his fear, when the door finally opened. The man from before gave him a smile and crouched down. He had a bowl of rice, chicken, and vegetables, and he offered it to Laine.

“Are you hungry? I bet you are. Come here, baby. Sit in my lap and I’ll let you eat.”

Laine began to sob. He tried to get away, but there was no room. The man grabbed him easily, dragging him across the tile floor and into his lap. Laine sat rigidly as a large arm pinned him against the man’s chest. He wanted to turn and claw the man’s eyes, to bite and scream. But he knew it would only get him punished. He had to behave. He had to make the man think he was good. A spoon rose to his lips. Laine stared at the offering hatefully.

“You’re a good boy. Yes, you are. Come on. Open up.” The man smiled and rubbed his cheek against Laine’s head when Laine finally forced his mouth open. “Yes. That’s it. Good boy.”

Laine ate the whole bowl; his tears never stopped falling.

xXx

Years seemed to pass. Laine never left the closet. He used the grate in the floor to go to the bathroom. He was filthy, itchy, and it stunk. Sometimes the man came with food. Each time he forced Laine to sit in his lap. It no longer bothered him. Laine actually looked forward to the hated man’s visits. He was lonely and bored. He thought he’d go crazy if he didn’t get out of here soon. He was pacing the small room, literally bouncing himself off the walls just to break the silence.

The door opened and Laine stilled. The man smiled down at him happily. “Hey, baby. How are you? I brought you a surprise.”

Laine noticed that the bucket the man held was filled with soapy water.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and then I’ll feed you, okay, baby?”

Laine stood still as the man pulled off his shirt and then removed his pants and underwear. A sponge pulled from the man’s pocket felt good going over his dirty skin. Laine practically melted into a puddle of goo. Tears stung his eyes. He knew this wasn’t right. Knew it was bad the way the man lingered over Laine’s privates, rubbing softly back and forth, back and forth. He wanted it to stop. He just wanted to go home.

He looked up at the man tearfully. “Please…” he begged softly. It was the first time he had spoken to the man.

“Hush, baby. I’m taking good care of you.”

Laine brought up his arm and pressed his face into the crook of his elbow. The man dropped the sponge and touched him with his hand instead. Laine kept his eyes tightly shut as his penis and balls were stroked and petted. The man’s hand trailed further back between his legs. A large finger pressed at his hole. Laine cried out, terrified.

“Trust me, baby. It’s not going to hurt. Hush, now. That’s it. Hush.”

A slapping sound entered the closet as the man pressed and rubbed at Laine’s hole. The man’s fingers tapped at the entrance, threatening to go in but never actually doing it. Laine bit down on his arm. The pain anchored him, distracted him from what was happening. It lasted forever; the man alternating from stroking his privates to teasing his butt. Laine felt a scream building in his throat. He was covered in sweat, his body shook with fear. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it.

“Such a good boy. So beautiful… Yes…”

Slowly the slapping sounds got faster, the hand on his privates rougher. Something gooey and hot splashed on his stomach. Laine gasped and looked down to see white stuff splattered across his skin. The man’s pants were open; the hand not touching Laine was inside them, rubbing slowly. Dazed, Laine said nothing as the sponge came and cleaned him off once more.

“That’s it, baby. You were so good for me. Come here.”

He said nothing when he was dragged into the man’s lap and fed. The man took Laine’s clothes when he left, so Laine curled up naked in the towel, eyes unseeing. He didn’t cry. He was empty. And his hatred for the man surged once more.

xXx

It felt like years and years went by. The man visited him often, and now he was withholding food unless Laine “played” with him.

“Hello, baby. It’s been two days. I know you’re hungry.”

Laine felt hallowed out and the food the bastard held smelled like heaven. “Why… why are you doing this?”

“I’m just trying to make us both happy.” The man smiled and knelt down just inside the door. He opened his pants and lifted his hands up, grabbing the door frame. “I won’t touch you, baby. I promise. It’s not so bad, is it? I’ll give you all this yummy food. Just touch me. See how big I am for you. It’ll be easy.”

Laine felt dizzy. He was so hungry. The man promised not to touch him, so how bad could it be? He’d just do it quick and eat. Shaking, Laine crawled over on hands and knees. His hair was lank and greasy. It fell in black strands around his face and into his eyes. He lifted up to his knees in front of the man. He was rewarded with a bright smile.

“Good boy. That’s it. Just put your hands around it.”

Laine dropped his eyes to the large penis. Carefully he wrapped a hand around it, but his fingers barely circled half of it.

“Both hands,” the man rasped, voice low and hoarse. His eyes practically glowed as they watched him.

Glaring hatefully, Laine used both hands to encircle the penis all the way around. Then slowly he squeezed and brought his hands up and down, up and down.

“Faster, baby… Oh, just like that… My sweet angel…”

Laine worked his hands until he was panting, sweating, and nearly faint with hunger. By the end, both of them were yelling - Laine from exhausted effort, the man from pleasure. When the white stuff shot out, it hit Laine in the face and up under his chin. Laine practically flung himself away, sobbing, and wiped at his face frantically with the towel.

“Shhh, you did so good, baby. So good. Come here, hush, child. Come on. Eat for me.”

Laine snapped. He balled his fists and yelled up at his captor with all the fury trapped inside. “Just leave it here! I don’t want to see you! I hate you!”

The man gave him a wounded look, but he did as Laine said. He pushed the food inside and shut the door. Laine crawled over and ate it quickly. It tasted salty from his tears. When he was done, he shoved the empty dishes away and curled up in the corner.

“I’m going to escape,” he promised, rocking himself soothingly. “No matter what, I’m going to get away from here.”

xXx

The man was back. He’d had Laine work him with his hands several times now. Laine hated it every time, but he wasn’t going to starve himself again. He needed to be strong. He needed to be ready. Every time the door opened, Laine watched for his chance. If the man made one mistake, Laine was going to be ready to take advantage of it.

“Let’s try something new, baby.” The man was on his knees in the doorway, blocking Laine’s escape. His hands opened his pants with practiced movements and took out his erect penis. The smile on his face was large and excited, making Laine feel sick. “I want you to put it in your mouth today, okay? I’ve got a really special treat for you if you do a good job.”

Laine glared hatefully from the back of the closet. No way was he putting that in his mouth! The man pulled a dish in front of him. It was chocolate cake! Laine’s mouth instantly started watering.

“Come on, baby. Please, for me? I’ll really like it if you do this.”

Laine clenched his fists and reminded himself of his promise. He had to get the man to let his guard down. He had to escape from this place! Cringing, Laine slunk forward, eyes glued to the bulbous head of the tall shaft. How was he going to put that in his mouth?

“That’s it. Come here. Good boy.”

Laine wanted to scream at him to shut up! His horrible voice wasn’t making this any easier. Taking a deep breath, Laine forced himself to calm down. He had to get the man to trust him. He couldn’t yell at him again. Determined, Laine opened his eyes and leaned in. He would do this. He had to do this. The big head was soft against Laine’s lips. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and still his lips stretched a bit as the man’s penis pushed inside.

“Oh my god,” the man groaned above him.

He gagged at the taste and feel of the man’s flesh sliding over his tongue.

“Close your lips tight.”

Laine did his best, he really did, but barely more than the head could fit inside. Every time the man bounced his hips forward, it hit the back of his throat and made him gag. He was crying by this point. He could hardly breathe through his nose. Still he clamped his swollen lips around the hot flesh, praying it would be over soon.

He thought this was as bad as it could get. He was wrong.

The man’s fingers laced through his dirty black hair. He titled Laine’s head and began pushing forward more. Laine thrashed, unable to breathe. His fists beat at the man’s thighs, but it was no use. He was pinned by the rod in his mouth, his jaw burning horribly.

“Oh holy fuck! Oh yeah! Fuck yes, so good!”

It pumped in and out, dripping with Laine’s spit. The head dipped into his throat each time, and the man only cried out louder when Laine gagged and choked, throat spasming. Dots swam in Laine’s vision, his lungs spasmed with the lack of oxygen, he was certain the man was going to kill him.

“Such a good boy!”

Then the man was exploding in his mouth, down his throat, into his lungs. Laine was freed and he collapsed, cum coating his cheeks and chin, and leaked from his nose. He hacked and spat, gasping desperately for air. His jaw felt nearly broken, it hurt so much.

“You look so pretty, baby,” the man cooed. A flash went off and Laine curled up tighter, still coughing and spitting. The man grabbed his face, lifted it so that he could take a picture. Laine whimpered as that hand tightened around his aching face.

“Rest, baby. I’ll bring you dinner later.”

And then Laine was alone. He didn’t even look at the chocolate cake he’d been left with. He didn’t think he could ever eat anything again; his throat felt like it was on fire.

As Laine lay there, nearly unconscious from suffocation, he swore to himself he was never going to do that again.

Not even if he were starving to death; he’d rather die.

xXx

“He’s beautiful. You should see this kid. His eyes… I could stare into them for hours.”

Laine jerked awake, eyes crusted with sleep. The man was back.

“You sound like a woman!” a new voice barked. “All I care about is his sweet little ass! How old do you think he is?” This was followed by a laugh that was harsh and deep.

“Four or five. I’ve had him for about two months,” the man answered. The doorknob turned. “You’ll be careful with him? I really like this one, Sean.”

Laine stared up fearfully up at the men in his doorway. He pulled the towel closer around him.

“Come here, baby. Let my friend see you.” The man reached in and grabbed his ankle.

Laine trembled, but he didn’t fight as he was pulled out of the closet for the first time in eternity. He lay limp, staring up at the strange, hairy man who leered down at him. Big, rough hands lifted him and carried him over to a bed. He’d been in the closet of the hated man’s bedroom all this time!

But he had no time to think about that. He was placed gently on his back. Laine’s captor crawled up next to him and petted his hair. For the first time since being taken, Laine grasped at the man’s promises, desperately believing that he’d be okay. He told Laine that he’d get a special treat of ice cream and candy as soon as the other man was done playing.

What followed was something not even Laine’s worst nightmares could have come up with. His captor’s arm threaded under his knees, keeping them up by his chest. The other arm was around under his neck, his elbow bent so his hand could stroke Laine’s hair. He was pressed close to Laine’s side as Sean knelt at the end of the bed in front of Laine’s bottom. He felt on display and vulnerable. He felt betrayed and frightened, so small and breakable. Sean’s hungry eyes filled his vision.

He screamed as a slick finger pushed into his body. Sean laughed at his tears, and Laine’s captor did nothing to stop it from hurting. In fact, the man told Laine that his friend was being very careful. “Feel that, baby?” the man soothed, stroking Laine’s hair off his sweaty face. “He’s using a lot of lube. He’ll stretch you nice and wide. I promise it’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”

“God, he’s tight. Never had such a tight ass,” Sean grunted, voice breathy with excitement.

“Make sure you don’t hurt him,” his captor warned, holding Laine protectively.

Laine arched with a whine as a second finger slid painfully next to the first. It felt tight and hot. “Stop!” he screamed, voice high and shrill with fear. “You’re killing me!”

Sean groaned. “Fuck that’s hot!”

Laine thrashed his head back and forth. He felt full, like he had to poop really bad.

As time passed and Sean played with his fingers, moving them and stretching Laine’s muscles, Laine felt a haze saturated his mind. It felt like he’d always been on this bed, pinned and hurting and afraid. It was never ending. The constant burn made him feel sick. Just when he thought he’d survive, another finger was added and he’d start from the beginning.

Laine gasped as Sean had added his white spunk to the lubrication on his butt. His lower half and his thighs were dripping wet. The sheets under him were slick. He was spread wide, and he hated it. He was crying and whimpering, feverish with terror. His butt was lifted up further and his eyes bugged as he watched Sean lined his re-hardened penis at his tortured hole.

“No!” Laine screamed. “Noooo!”

“Go slow,” His captor demanded, holding Laine tighter. “Don’t hurt him too bad.”

“Oh fuck. Oh god. This is gonna feel so good.” Sean pressed forward slowly, savoring the moment.

The pressure built and built. It didn’t stop coming. Laine screamed! The pain! The pain was unbearable; he was being ripped in two!

Laine body went rigid as the terror ignited in rage. It knocked his breath right out of him. Made his vision swim red. He’d done everything his captor had asked. Why wasn’t he stopping this? Laine hated him, hated him, HATED HIM!

Sean pushed in and out, slow shallow thrusts, breaking Laine more each time he thrust forward, going a little deeper.

His captor’s voice droned on in his ringing ears; Sean’s animalistic grunts and pants bathed Laine’s agony-contorted face.

And Laine kept screaming until he thought he was dying.

Something began to boil inside of him. All the fear, all the betrayal and rage; it surged up through his stomach and tore through the agony to the source. Sean’s rocking hips froze. His eyes went wide, and suddenly he was frothing at the mouth. Laine’s captor let out a startled yell, his arms releasing Laine as if burned.

Maddened with pain and fury, Laine kicked his legs, pushing Sean away from him and out of his body. He yelped as he was left empty and raw. His butt felt like an open wound, but he couldn’t curl up and cry now. He had to get away! This was his chance!

Panting through the sickness and pain, the nearly deafening throb of his lower half, Laine crawled toward the edge of the bed. A trail of blood slithered down his thighs. Sean was thrashing, choking. His face was swollen and purple, shiny. Laine dropped to the floor. Gritting his teeth, he pushed to his feet. His insides burned and his legs collapsed underneath him. Sobbing, Laine crawled for the door.

“Oh my god! Sean! Shit!”

He forced himself to stand, to open the door. He staggered into the hallway, limping, nearly dragging his feet. There were stairs. He practically fell down them. Dazed, in agony, he stared out a window. He could see outside: the city street, passing cars, freedom! Laine let out a little cry of joy and crawled forward. He was shaking badly as he dragged himself to his feet, reaching for the doorknob.

Suddenly he was grabbed from behind and lifted into the air. Sweet, cloying cloth was pressed into his face, smothering him. He passed out.

xXx

“… one grand, can you believe it?”

Laine woke in so much pain that he could hardly breathe. Dizzy, he squinted through his tears; an office, a man behind a desk, another sitting in a chair at the edge of the room.

“He’s used,” the not-desk man said.

“Yes, but he’s pretty enough. We’ll get a few days out of him. He’ll more than triple our investment,” desk-man replied. Suddenly they were both looking at Laine, and the smiles on their faces terrified him.

The next few hours were a blur. He was collared and dragged around on a leash. Laine couldn’t walk. His insides felt bruised and his butt was on fire with agony. He crawled. The men seemed to like that. They didn’t hurt him for it. He was taken to a dark, underground room. It was large. Way bigger than any room at the orphanage, even the dining room. It was dark with throbbing blue and red lights. Deep music pulsed and jumped, making it hard to hear anything.

Other kids were there. Most all were older than Laine by several years. All of them were on tables like food laid out at a buffet. Some were crying, some lay like broken dolls. Men were pushing into the holes between their legs and into their mouths. Then Laine was lifted onto a table. The leash was tied to a bar hanging from the ceiling. He didn’t have enough slack to get down.

Men – all ages and sizes – came over to look him over. They touched and petted his skin, sometimes pinching. Laine begged them to stop at first. He looked for help in each face, but their eyes were shinning like Sean’s. He stopped speaking after that. He had no idea how long he was groped when suddenly a hand cupped the back of Laine’s neck, pulling his head down so that it was nearly level with the table’s edge. The position made the collar cut into his throat painfully, but the bastard didn’t care.

The man pried Laine’s jaws open and pushed his penis inside. Laine screamed, but that only made the man push forward harder. He gagged and choked. Fingers touched his raw butt and Laine lost it. The sizzling hate tore through him like a bonfire and lashed out. The man slid in and out of his mouth a few more times when suddenly Laine’s mouth was clear. He gasped and coughed. Looking up through his hair, he saw the old man bent over puking his guts out. Similar sounds came from behind him, and the fingers left.

As Laine watched the man violently heave, he began to smile. No one would touch him without consequence again.

xXx

Laine hissed in pain. He woke covered in bruises. The ground he lay on was swaying. It was dark. Squinting he could make out other shapes, could hear the soft sounds of kids crying. It was very familiar, and for a split second he thought he was back at the orphanage. Then a door opened above him and spilled light into the room. The room was large and filled with dozens of dirty kids. They stared back at him with big, scared eyes.

A man stomped down the wooden stairs and came right up to Laine. Laine screamed and kicked as he was lifted. His whole body hurt. The man didn’t even flinch. He simply brought his fist up and bashed it into Laine’s skull. Laine went limp, and the man carried him up the stairs, down a hall, and into a very small bedroom.

“I’m your master now, boy,” the man growled in Laine’s ear. He was holding Laine close to his chest, his meaty hand squeezing Laine’s face painfully hard. “Bought you off some crazy fool convinced that you were poisonous or something. Least you were cheap. I’m going to need you to do a job for me. If you can’t do that, you’ll be worthless.” The man’s face loomed inches from Laine’s own. “You know what happens to useless boys on my boat?”

“Stop!” Laine choked out, terrified, as his legs were prized apart. The man lifted a baseball bat, pressing the smaller end against Laine’s hole. It was smaller than a penis, but still too big. Laine didn’t want anything to touch him down there ever again. “No! Please! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!”

“Oh, you’ll be good, or I’ll fuck this into you until you die. Now what do you say to your generous master?”

Laine was nearly hyperventilating. The man was applying more and more pressure until that huge thing was beginning to stretch him painfully open. “Please!”

“Please what?” the man yelled, slapping him in the face.

“Please, Master!” Laine screamed out just as he began to feel blood trickle down his leg.

The bat disappeared. The man pulled him up so he was kneeling on the bed and they were eye to eye. “I’m going to punish you for being so slow to understand. I don’t need a stupid boy running around. You can take an inch of this bat for five minutes or you can take a beating for an hour. Which is it, boy?”

Laine sobbed, but he knew his answer. He knew what his answer would always be if given the choice. “The beating, Master.”

Master grinned at him and smoothed back his hair. “You’re strong, boy. What’s your name?”

“Laine,” he answered, voice dull and choked with tears.

“Listen to me, Laine. This can either break you or make you stronger.” The man moved Laine’s body so that he was lying on his belly over his knees. Laine closed his eyes and fisted his hands, seething mad and terrified at the same time. And still that voice droned on. “You can take the pain inside. Let it live and breathe, and then it will be over. Or you can fight it and it will chip away at you until you’re as good as dead.” The man leaned down so that his mouth was tickling Laine’s ear. “How can you beat me if you’re dead, boy? You’ve got to kill me, don’t you? Like all those other bastards. Survive, Laine. You survive until you figure out how to take me straight to Hell with you.”

Laine screamed shamelessly as he was spanked brutally, his tender insides blazed in agony. He did as he was told. He let the pain inside. He let it feed the hatred and rage. He would kill his Master; just like he had the others who touched and hurt him. And Laine would laugh and laugh when it was done.

xXx

May 23^rd, 1995

Zabini Manor, Italy

Severus jerked awake, sitting ramrod straight and struggling to catch his breath. He could hardly think around the horror and disgust the memories of Laine’s early childhood had evoked. What had been done to his eldest son had been horrific. It was no wonder Laine hated him so!

Severus wasn’t entirely ignorant. The Death Eaters had playthings, often young ones. It had been disturbing even then, but this! This overshadowed those few pets into insignificance. Rage overwhelmed the disgust, and Severus flung the blankets away with an audible growl. So lost in anger was he that he didn’t notice when Armand entered. He only became aware of the man’s presence when a firm hand pressed against his chest, preventing him from stalking out of the room and hunting down every single monster that had dared to touch his son.

“Laine was kidnapped right off the street! He was four years old, Armand! FOUR!” Severus screamed furiously.

Armand stared back at him, expression tight with pain, and Severus couldn’t hold onto his anger. He staggered back and sat on the bed, dropping his face into his hands.

“Laine, my beautiful boy. He was locked in a closet and molested in exchange for food. For months until they raped him. He was so hurt, so angry, and his magic lashed out. It killed his rapist.” Severus shuddered. He was glad his son could defend himself, but what had followed hadn’t been any better. “In the confusion, he almost got away, but that bastard drugged him and sold him right quick to a sex club to be used hard.”

Severus looked up at his friend in anguish, and Armand dropped gracefully to his knees, never once breaking eye contact. Severus shuddered as the memories bloomed in his mind’s eye once more, and he desperately clasped Armand’s offered hand.

“They expected Laine to die within a week’s time, but he made all those who used his mouth or violated him with fingers violently ill. Anyone who penetrated him fully died the same way as the first man who raped him.” Severus was crying now, tears dripping down his face. He hardly noticed the way Armand was trembling.

“Laine was shipped off, too dangerous to keep. His new Master,” Severus spat the word in absolute disgust, “made Laine - a child of barely five years - chose between torture or rape.” Severus closed his eyes, pained beyond belief. “And Laine promised he’d choose torture every time.”

Armand felt pain close off his throat. He gently put his hand on Severus’ thigh, offering what comfort he could.

Severus took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to find his balance once more. “I don’t know if I can bear to see what happened to Harry.”

When Armand spoke, his voice was low, soothing. “They are with us now. Whatever happened, they survived. They are relatively whole, and we will protect them. They will never know such pain again.”

Severus did his best to believe his friend’s words, but the horror was too fresh in his mind.

As if reading his mind, Armand stood and offered Severus his hand. “Come. Get dressed. When you see Laine and Hale with your own eyes, you’ll feel better.”

With no better idea how to cope with what he’d seen, Severus accepted Armand’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He said nothing, mind distant, as he dressed and prepared for the day. He had no idea that Laine had suffered dreams of his own.

Chapter end.

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Freedom In Chains