Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lost Phoenix	By : sshp4ever Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 21769 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its Characters. I make no money (unfortunately) from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Animals
- 2-Waiting
- 3-Dirty
- 4-Alone
- 5-Umbrellas
- 6-Dreaming
- 7-Retribution
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter Four: Alone

            He needed to take a shower. The smell of his uncle was overwhelming him. But his head was spinning and everything ached. His aunt had told him to wash up before going to bed and Harry was only too happy to comply. Before he did, he had to get rid of the filthy, blood stained sheets. He decided tossing them would be better for everyone. His relatives wouldn’t want his “filth” all over their belongings, and he really didn’t think Petunia would allow him to leave dried blood, puke, tears, and cum in her house.

            But when he tried to move from his face down position to a sitting one, his body strongly protested. The stabbing pain in his arse had him falling to his knees by the side of the bed rather abruptly. The bedside table nearly nicked his head on his way to the floor.

            Now that he was upright, the uncomfortable sensation of the cooled remnants of pink tinged cum dribbling down the inside of his thighs made Harry nauseas. This time he was able to hold back the vomit by lowering his head to rest against the bed. If anyone had walked in on him then it would have seemed as if he were praying. After gaining control of his stomach, Harry tried to stand. It was rather difficult, since every movement caused intense twinges of pain at the base of his spine.

Finally managing to pull himself up, Harry began to carelessly pull up the sheets. Once he had them strewn together in a messy ball, he methodically donned his old shirt and trousers, leaving his pants where they lay on the floor. His backside was too raw for tight fitting garments to be comfortable. He intended to take the sheets directly to the rubbish bin in the alley, but as soon as he exited the smallest bedroom in Number Four Privet Drive he came across a major dilemma.

            Vernon was still awake and he was between Harry and the front door. Harry couldn’t see him yet, but the distinctive oafish guffawing could be heard from the top of the stairs. Wonderful! Just wonderful, Harry thought sardonically. He knew any confrontation with his uncle would result in him cowering in a corner. At the moment, he didn’t think he could cope with the added humiliation. To make matters infinitely worse, Dudley’s loutish sniggering could be heard from the sitting room as well. Harry could only imagine what was so amusing and hoped it was simply late night television.

            Gathering as much courage and stealth as he could muster, Harry began his steady descent down the stairs. He had to take his time or exhaustion would overtake him and he’d have to stop and rest, only prolonging his time out in the open. Despite his precaution, by the time he had reached the bottom step, Harry was out of breath. It frustrated him that something as simple as a flight of stairs could completely drain him, but now he was much closer to his goal. All he had to do was sneak past the entrance of the sitting room and out the front door. Much easier said than done!

            After stealing a glance into said room and finding his cousin and uncle satisfactorily distracted, Harry crept past and then out the front door, sighing in relief once it clicked shut behind him. Without the threat of his uncle spurring him on, Harry meandered his way into the alley and towards his goal: the rubbish bin.

            The fresh air stole across his feverish skin, cooling and calming him. But, with this calm came a clarity of mind that did nothing for his composure. Now that his concentration was revitalized, it immediately went to work replaying all the horrifying events of the past few hours.

            Harry’s blood pressure began to rise as the memories he had been blocking came crashing back over him. As the panic set in, he slumped into the garbage can, trembling violently, and slid to the ground. Cursing his subconscious for its blatant betrayal, Harry dropped his forehead to his forearm, which was propped up on his knees. He needed to get under control and stop the irrational tremulous quaking, especially as his uncle was still inside. Taking deep breaths, Harry gave up his internal battle for control, letting his attention wander where it wished.

            Suddenly there was a loud banging noise that indicated a slamming door, mercifully jolting him out of his inner turmoil. He hoped fervently that it was the neighbours, but knew instinctively it was from Number Four because of its proximity. In response, he curled in on himself and froze, hoping to make himself invisible to whoever had exited the residence.

            To his complete horror it was both Vernon and Dudley. Even worse was the subject of their conversation: him. But most alarming was their approaching footsteps. Scrambling to his feet and quickly tossing the sheets into the dumpster, Harry stood with his back against the wall. He had a fantasy of his invisibility cloak poofing up out of nowhere and hiding him from view. Unfortunately, he would never wear his father’s cloak again.

            Luck, as usual, was against him. And when his relatives rounded the corner, Harry was in plain sight.

            “Look, there’s little Potter. I wonder if he’d like to go for a drive with us,” Dudley said upon noticing Harry cowering in the shadows. The underage wizard thought it rather strange that his cousin didn’t insult him further. Usually his relatives prided themselves on their inventive new ways of affronting him and his parentage.

            “We’ll have to toss him in the boot so that he doesn’t sully the back seat,” Vernon glared. Harry was confused. A drive? He had thought they had come out to beat him or… well, what Vernon had done to him earlier. He hadn’t been anticipating them suggesting a drive, and truthfully it unnerved him. It was obvious that the two bumbling animals that passed as his relations were up to something. This alone made him anxious, but with the added fear and shame that being in Vernon's mere vicinity produced, it made him all but panicky. The only thing he could console himself with was that Vernon, it appeared, had kept the events of only a few hours ago to himself. Dudley’s incessant taunting could have very possibly been too much for him to handle, had the boy been aware of Harry’s indignity.

            As the two bullies approached him, he tensed, but managed to keep himself from retaliating when they grabbed him by his arms and forcefully led him out of the alley. Their destination: Vernon's aging sedan. The confined dark space of the trunk reminded him of his old cupboard under the stairs, but he let himself be picked up and bodily stuffed into the cramped compartment. Ducking his head as Vernon slammed the boot closed, Harry prepared himself for a bumpy ride.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

            Harry was sure he had a concussion. By his estimation, which was questionable at best, they had been driving for over an hour. To make everything even more unpleasant, not a minute went by that was bump-free, causing Harry’s head to repeatedly slam into the back of the boot. Sleep, of course, was impossible.

            Harry had given up wondering where he was being taken, nor did he want to know what would happen to him once they arrived. There was no doubt in his mind that the father and son duo had something up their sleeves. His only hope was the reasonable assumption that Vernon and Dudley Dursley were too dimwitted to put any truly conniving plot into action.

            Bracing himself for another violent jolt, Harry tried to lose himself in his thoughts. Ever since the first day of the holidays, he had had daydreams of his friends coming to save him from this mess he was in. Anyone would do. He wouldn’t even be upset to see Snape at this point. Anything to get him away from this place; forever.

            Suddenly, Harry noticed a strange tinkling echo. It seemed to be coming from all around him, and at first he thought it was the beginning of his relative’s scheme. Perhaps they intended to torture him into insanity, but Harry quickly dismissed this idea when he realised one had to be clever to successfully torture someone.

            Rain! That’s what it was. Not that this improved Harry’s mood at all; he was already chilly due to the lack of proper clothes and riding in the boot of an ancient car. Rain wouldn’t make it any better. He had the most rotten luck.

            He was so disoriented and drained that he didn’t realise the car had been slowing down until the ignition was switched off. The barely noticeable trimmers that rocked the car, suddenly stopped. They had reached their destination. Foreboding, that Harry had done his best to keep at bay, now engulfed him.

For the first time Harry began asking himself the questions he had been putting off. Why he was being taken for a midnight outing? What could the Dursley’s gain from getting him away from Privet Drive? The sudden idea that they were in league with Voldemort overcame him, initially instilling panic. But he quickly reassured himself. His relatives wanted nothing to do with “freaks” like him; they wouldn’t even consider it, even to conspire against him. Yes, he was safe, at least from that threat.

            Before Harry would get any farther with his inner inquisition, the trunk was thrown open. Looking up Harry could see two silhouetted forms hovering over him. Though he couldn’t see their faces, Harry imagined they both bore nasty grins. And together the duo hauled him out of the boot and plopped him callously onto the damp ground.

            He was forced to sit, putting unwanted pressure on his abused buttocks, since his legs were still completely numb from the extended time in the cramped space. But he looked up, purposely ignoring his evil relatives, and surveyed his surroundings. They were in a deserted alley, but Harry could see lights around the corner. It was obvious that they weren’t in London; it was too quiet.

            “Dad, let’s go, I want to go home. I’m hungry!” That was Dudley. Even in the mist of one of their elaborate schemes, his cousin couldn’t go too long without stuffing his face.

            “We’ll stop in Croydon on the way back for some food, but first I want to have one last word with that thing,” His uncle spit the last word, as if he was no better than dog shit. Harry knew that in Vernon's eyes, that’s exactly what he was.

            “Boy, look here! I’m going to leave you here, and if I ever see you again… well it’ll be much worse than this,” Vernon jeered at him. “Don’t you dare call either; I want nothing to do with you freaks anymore!”

            Harry just stared up at them. This wasn’t what he had been expecting and he wasn’t sure what to think. Wasn’t this what he had wanted, to be away from the Dursley’s and never ever have to see them again? And now it seemed he was getting what he had wished for… But in his daydreams there had always been somewhere for him to go, some place for him to stay, or at least someone who cared. Suddenly he was nervous.

            “W-wait!” Harry entreated. “Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do? You can’t just leave me here!” He was suddenly furious. Where was Dumbledore now? Where was the almighty headmaster when Vernon had violated him? This wasn’t supposed to happen to him.

            But Vernon just laughed. Laughed! Then he bent down, so as to make eye contact with his nephew. Dudley was already in the car, out of the cool showers, most likely impatient for his next meal. Now all alone with his uncle, Harry was understandably petrified by their proximity.

            “Do you think I care what happens to the likes of you? Go wherever you want, as long as it’s away. And as for what you should do,” At this Vernon leered, a wicked expression gracing his visage, “you could be a whore, just like your mother. It’s just too bad you’re a lousy fuck.”

            Harry shrank away, cowering into the ground, despite it making his clothes soggy, as if it would protect him from his reality. He wanted to defend his mother, but he couldn’t even protect himself. Violent tremors racked his petite frame and he knew he was pitiful. Such a pathetic wizard, like himself, deserved all the agony he had received.

            Vernon, looking smugger than Harry had ever seen him, righted himself and, with little ado, made his way back over to the car, leaving Harry abandoned as he drove away.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Far away…

            “Fuck!”

            A jar of his most cherished potions ingredient smashed to the cold stone floor of his laboratory. He had knocked it over when a sudden rapping had sounded at the door, breaking the silence and his concentration.

            Now he would have to buy more Asphodels! Cursing his luck, Severus moved towards the door to discover who had startled him out of the most expensive and rare ingredient in Britain. This was exactly why he had the Dark Lord instruct his imbecile Death Eaters to never interrupt him. Even the Dark Lord didn’t have enough resources to obtain good quality Asphodel. And with the impending confrontation Severus saw a great need for it, since it was the main ingredient to the most powerful restorative potion known to wizard-kind.

            Wrenching open the door with enough ferocity to shake the foundations of any residence not kept standing by magic, Severus glared down at the culprit of his ever increasing foul temper. The white-blond hair was enough to further irritate the Potions Master and he promptly whirled around, stomping back over to his work station in a swirl of black robes. He could hear the aristocrat following him farther into his lair, evidently undaunted by the wrath of Severus Snape.

            Completely ignoring his guest, Severus set about scouring the table top of all the squandered, volatile element and banishing any remaining scraps he found. The closest capable dealer of this invaluable component was in Bromley! This would not have been such an inconvenience if they had still been located in Wiltshire, at Malfoy Manor. But about a month ago Voldemort had spontaneously picked up headquarters and relocated in the north. They were currently based in Aberdeen. Incensed, he recklessly marched over to the sink in a flurry of heavy dark robes, heedless of the other preserved materials around the room.

            “Severus, the Dark Lord wants to know if everything will be prepared for the upcoming fray,” said Lucius Malfoy, completely at ease despite his precarious position. The man was leaning nonchalantly against the far counter and wasn’t even regarding Severus as he spoke, instead scrutinizing his flawless manicure.

            Snape rolled his eyes. If there was any one of the Death Eaters that should be kissing his arse it was Lucius. After the failure at the ministry, Voldemort had been so enraged he had planned on Avada Kedavra-ing Narcissa Malfoy as Lucius’s punishment. Severus had done the man a serious favor by hiding his wife, risking his life for not the first time. As it was, the Dark Lord only tortured the blond man a few days instead of murdering his wife. But his old friend was nothing if not proud and refused to acknowledge his dwindling status, unless in the presence of the Dark Lord himself, to whom he groveled shamelessly.

            Shaking his head in exasperation, Severus replied in an aggravated tone, “Of course, Lucius. When was the last time any of my potions were not prepared in a timely fashion?” He said this to mock and perhaps humble the man, but knew his attempt to be futile when the only response was a toss of sleek blond hair and an annoyed glower.

            Before Snape had joined Voldemort’s ranks, Malfoy had been the Lord’s Potion’s Master. This was one of the many reasons Severus had been recruited; Lucius had been an unreliable and inconsistent potion brewer.

            “No need to be childish, Severus. I was sent to assess your progress by the Dark Lord himself. You cannot blame me for being obedient,” Lucius asserted pompously.

            As a matter of fact, Severus had plenty of pent up frustration to spew at Malfoy about blindly worshipping a depraved madman. This, however, was not the time for him to preach blasphemy, especially since Lucius was so desperate for a way back into the Dark Lord’s good graces. So instead, he settled for simply raging at the man in his usual manner.

            “Well your so called obedience just cost the Dark Lord a great fortune. I was under the impression he had instructed you all not to bother me.” At this Lucius paled considerably, which was an impressive feat for his fair complexion. “My stock of Asphodel was completely decimated because of your harebrained incursion. Even you, at height of your reign, could not have afforded to replace this ingredient. As it is the Dark Lord cannot even dream of replenishing it. Now I won’t have enough invigorating potions for after the battle! Do you know what this means?”

            Looking up after his vehement oration, Severus was pleased to note that Lucius looked a good deal meeker than he had upon entering the Potion Master’s domain. With a minute shake of his head, Lucius conveyed his ignorance of the situation he had brought down on himself.

“In order not to antagonize the Dark Lord, we are going to have to go on a raid to replace the ruined ingredient! And to make matters infinitely worse, the closest adequate vendor is in Bromley, in a shop I have only ever been to once. We will have to accomplish this ourselves, since no others are trustworthy enough to keep this from the Dark Lord. And it will have to be tonight!” Severus sneered, starting to get worked up again.

            Lucius now seemed disgruntled, but it couldn’t compete with Snape’s persistently irate air.

            “When shall we leave then?” the senior Malfoy inquired, yielding quickly, a consequence of his low status, to Severus’s demands.

            “I have to finish disinfecting the chamber, so that Asphodel residue doesn’t ruin my equipment,” he snapped, giving Lucius the privilege of his signature glare. “Come back in an hour and I’ll be prepared to leave.”

            Giving a curt nod, Lucius strode from the room. And Severus was left to clean up the mess.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Back in the alleyway…

            He didn’t want to move. If he did that meant all of this was real. It meant that he really had been abandoned by his only remaining family. Completely alone, that’s what he was.

            His uncle had driven away a while ago. Harry was beyond keeping track of time. His legs and arse were numb from sitting so long and the hot and cold flashes had gotten more intense once the rain had begun pouring in earnest. Currently he was sporting full body goose pimples under his sopping garments. It was windy and because of the downpour, no longer warm.

            During the time since the Dursley’s car had roared away, he had remained in the same spot that he’d been dumped. He had nowhere to go, so he saw no reason to relocate. Harry had contemplated ways of getting to the Burrow or even just getting a message to someone that he needed help. The wand he had bought from Ollivander’s all those years ago was useless now that Vernon had burned all his belongings. Not that he could have used it anyway; he was still under aged.

If only I had my broom! Had been Harry’s second thought, but that was gone now too. His only other options were muggle post or walking. Neither of these options were practical though. He’d never used muggle post before, but from hearing his uncle complain about the travesty that was the British Postal service, he didn’t think that option would pan out. Walking, he knew, would also be an impractical solution. He had no idea where he was, nor did he know in what direction the Weasley residence was in. Not to mention his extreme lethargy and failing health.

            Harry had simply huddled into the wall of the alley, trying to be invisible and keep out the chilly rain all at once. Unfortunately, he was largely unsuccessful.

            Thankfully, he had been discarded in what appeared to be in an abandoned part of the town. He hadn’t seen a soul yet and the silence was so complete his ears felt as if they were ringing with it.

            So when two identical ‘pops’ sounded just moments apart, Harry was understandably startled.
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Lost Phoenix