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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Full Moon

May 25^th, 1995

Zabini Woods

Run! Laine screamed.

He slid on his knees underneath the monster as massive jaws snapped at his face. Throwing his head back, his torso nearly parallel to the ground, Laine slashed upward into the vulnerable belly of the beast. Blood gushed over Laine’s hand and face, and a pain-maddened howl nearly deafened him as the monster twisted in mid air.

Laine rolled free and came up to his feet in a crouch. Over the monster’s muscled shoulders, he saw Hale bolting for the woods and toward Tonks. The witch was yelling something, her mouth moving fast, but Laine couldn’t hear what she was saying over the pounding of his ears and the snarls of the creature in front of him. He watched Hale grab her arm and yank hard, trying to pull her into the trees, yelling something back at her.

The werewolf lunged toward Laine, enraged. Laine dropped into a sideways roll. Dirt and grass sprayed up, the monster’s claws digging furrows into the ground. Teeth snapped at Laine’s thigh in passing, missing by inches. Heart racing, adrenaline soaking his system, he sprinted for the house, hoping to draw the beast away from Hale.

A hungry howl went up, making every hair on Laine’s arms and neck stand straight. He looked over his shoulder and screamed. The werewolf was bearing down on him, mere feet away, jaws open and eyes gleaming. He’d never make it! Laine swerved and then flipped backward. The werewolf rushed underneath him, a massive paw rising to swipe at his head. It missed, and Laine sprinted for the tree line.

Furious, the beast growled and turned, hackles raised with a deadly snarl…

“We have to go back!” Tonks yelled, coming to a stop.

Hale pulled desperately on her wrist. “We have to find somewhere safe!”

“He won’t hurt us!” she snapped and yanked her hand away. “We just have to calm him down!”

Hale couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Come on!” he yelled and tried to snag her hand again.

She shook her head. Her hair became long and glossy, her skin dark brown, and her eyes a glowing gold. “You go! I’m going back for Remus.” Tonks turned and ran back toward the terrifying snarls and howls.

“Tonks!” Hale screamed. “Fuck!” He looked around, couldn’t see anything useful and ran further into the woods…

Panting, heart pounding, Laine dodged behind a tree. A clawed paw tore through bark and snagged on his shirt. Laine flung an arm over his eyes, protecting them from splinters, and flung himself away from those wickedly sharp nails. Sneakers scrambling for traction in the leaves and dirt, Laine felt moist heat on the back of his neck and turned with his knife raised. Metal caught on enamel and he jerked the blade across the roof of the beast’s mouth, his wrist and hand coming dangerously close to the razor-sharp teeth.

The werewolf jerked away with a shriek of pain…

Hale spun around, standing in the middle of a small clearing. He had no idea where he was or how to get to the house or find Laine. The monstrous howls hadn’t stopped. In fact, they were getting closer! Panting, Hale caught sight of a tree with low hanging branches. He ran toward it and jumped. His hands scrapped painfully along the bark before he dropped hard onto his back. Palms bloody, Hale jumped again. This time he caught a better grip. Kicking and grunting, he heaved himself up onto the branch…

Tonks jumped on her lover from behind. “Remus! Stop!”

The werewolf, maddened by pain and fresh blood, tore the woman from his back with a massive, clawed hand. Tonks let out a scream as muscle and bone broke under that unforgiving strength. Her back hit a tree and she slid down the rough bark, everything going dark…

A heavy weight hit him in the back and Laine went down. He rolled, trying to bring his knife to bear. Searing hot pain stabbed into his shoulder as the monster’s head snapped forward and bit him, teeth tearing into muscles and arteries. Laine screamed and arched. The werewolf pressed him down, his massive body crushing all the air out of Laine’s lungs. Vicious snarls deafened him as the werewolf’s claws cut into his chest and caught on his ribs, holding him in place.

He slammed his knife forward, stabbing into the beast’s shoulder again and again. Hot blood soaked their bodies, and Laine nearly passed out as the monster shook his head with a growl. He gasped, tears blurring his eyes. His hand fell numb. The knife fell away. He stared up into the canopy above him, the full moon bathing his face. A bone snapped and he whined as waves of agony blazed through him…

Sobbing in horror, Hale watched Laine go down under the werewolf. He got his feet under him and flung himself forward off the tree branch. Plummeting, he landed right on the monster’s back and dug his fingers into the thick fur. Screaming in rage desperation terror – pure power exploded from his core and blazed from his skin…

Laine clung to consciousness as he felt the familiar heat of Hale’s magic saturating the air. The werewolf reared back, releasing his shoulder, and howled. It staggered onto its hind legs and then collapsed in a heap, still wailing. Laine pushed up on his good elbow, eyes swimming. He squinted through the haze of magic and saw Hale crouched on the monster, his slender body bowing back with skin glowing brighter than the moon.

“Hale…” he rasped, terrified. He forced himself up into a sitting position, but before he could crawl forward, hands grabbed him. He leaned back into the offered support. Armand was crouched beside him, supporting his torso. His wand was out and he was pointing at Laine’s wounds. Laine shook his head. He didn’t matter. Hale… He had to get to him… Had to protect him… Keep him safe… Hale…

Armand easily held Laine back, the teen weak from blood loss. He looked up at Severus who stood grimly at his side. The man was watching as the werewolf writhed under Hale’s power. The young teen’s magic was a physical force they had to push against; there was no way they could get closer.

The werewolf arched and howled, agonized. It was shrinking. The fur along its body was thickening into a true coat. The distorted skull was lengthening, the wide jaws snapping as it howled in pain. Four paws scrabbled at the earth. A tail grew and lashed wildly.

“My god…” Severus whispered as they watched the impossible transformation.

“Hale…” Laine cried weakly. He lifted a bloody hand, reaching for the boy.

Armand hunched down lower, cradling the broken teen to his chest.

Suddenly, Hale’s eyes snapped open as he gasped in pain. Red appeared on his lips and chin as his nose began to bleed, and the beast began to warp with a deafening scream back into the monstrous form of a werewolf.

“Hale!”

All Laine could see was his boy. Nothing else existed. He saw the pained arch of Hale’s body, felt the weakness creep along their bond. Hale was dangerously close to giving all he had to give. A sense of numbness stole across his core as Hale dwindled fast. “No… NO!” he yelled and thrust all his power, every atom of strength he possessed through their connection.

He nearly screamed in despair when he sensed that it wouldn’t be enough. Whatever Hale was attempting, their combined power only kept things at a standstill. They still couldn’t finish it. “Hale! Stop! Let go!” he ordered desperately, voice raw and shrill with fear. “HALE!”

Hale was oblivious, lost in the typhoon of magic. Suddenly, he was thrust forward and yanked up onto his knees. He gasped and looked down. A bloodied horn stuck out from his chest, impaling him. He looked up and caught Laine’s wide blue eyes. The older teen was sitting in Armand’s arms. Laine had never looked so terrified, and it made Hale’s heart clench.

“… sorry… Laine…”

Hale’s head fell back and his arms spread wide as suddenly a force stronger than any he had ever felt before joined his own.

“NOOOO!” Laine screamed.

An explosion of white light blinded them all. Screams, animal and human, tore through the air, coming from all of them and none at the same time. Laine thrashed in Armand’s arms. Mind shattered, he stumbled and crawled blindly forward. He felt fur, a limp body, pushed forward until he felt a slender arm…

Hale!

Screaming his throat raw, Laine pulled the slender teen up into his arms. He sat huddled over Hale’s limp form, pressing his face into the wild dark hair. Slowly, slowly, his eyes began to adjust. The blinding white faded, dots swam across his vision. Tears streaming down his face, Laine forced his eyes to focus.

Hale lay unconscious. His face was pale, but his lips were parted and he was breathing. His chest rose and sank under Laine’s hand. Gasping, nearly hyperventilating, Laine grabbed at Hale’s shirt, pulling it up. Perfect skin was revealed underneath. Amazed, Laine rubbed his hand up and down Hale’s unbroken chest. He moaned and curled up tighter around his boy. Something soft bumped his head and Laine looked up at the unicorn towering above him. He sat frozen as the creature lowered that deadly horn. Without warning, the unicorn speared through the bite wound, impaling its horn through his flesh.

Laine cried out, voice raw and hoarse. The pain was horrendous. It made his vision flash red and then black. Sweat soaked his skin, and he gritted his teeth and just endured. He refused to drop his burden, and his arms locked around Hale’s fragile body. With agonizing slowness, the horn retreated. It dragged at his torn wound and burned like a hot poker punching through his muscle again and again, and with a final whimper, Laine passed out…

Severus growled at the magical creature. He would have cursed it by now, but Armand tightly held his wand hand down by his side. Severus’ eyes were locked on his children, and he hissed as Laine’s body fell off that vicious horn and collapsed on top of Hale. The unicorn, its horn stained red from blood, held Severus’ eyes before spinning on its back hooves and darting into the woods once more.

Severus rushed forward and lifted Laine up against his chest. He quickly covered the bleeding shoulder wound. Casting spells to stop the bleeding and begin to knit the tissues back together, he saw that the unconscious animal lying a few feet away was still breathing. Good enough. “Grab Hale,” he ordered sharply.

Armand bent and easily lifted Hale into his arms without the use of magic. Severus had to use a Feather Light charm on Laine. Grimly, they strode through the woods back toward the house. Gloria had already gone back with Tonks, and she should have healing potions ready for them.

Severus carefully held Laine’s head securely to his shoulder. Fury churned in his gut. The boys had been hurt under his care. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t at fault. He hadn’t warned them about the werewolf living in the house. He hadn’t explained the consequences. And now his son had been bitten. Severus was livid.

Armand took one look at Severus’ face and winced.

xXx

Hale slowly came awake to the feeling of something cool and comforting against his head. Green eyes blinked slowly open. He was in his bedroom at the manor. Morning sun filled the room. Turning his head, he saw Severus sitting on the bed next to him. The wizard gave him a small smile and removed the cool cloth from his forehead. Hale tried to smile back, but everything felt heavy.

“Take it easy. You used a lot of magic,” Severus said and lifted a glass to Hale’s lips.

The boy drank trustingly and almost gagged; “What…?”

“A potion that will help return your strength,” Severus answered briskly. He lifted a second cup. “And this one will help with your magic depletion.”

Hale eyed the glass and considered refusing.

“None of that, I can force this down your throat if you don’t cooperate,” Severus threatened with a stern look.

The teenager lifted an eyebrow. He didn’t think Severus could force him to do anything he didn’t want to.

Severus smiled evilly. “I’ll wake Laine.”

Oh, that’s mean, Hale thought and then giggled. He quickly drank the potion and yawned, feeling sleep tugging him back down again. “How is he?”

Severus gently ran a hand through Hale’s hair. “He’s resting next to you. He had some serious wounds on his chest and shoulder, but Armand is a good healer and I have him on some strong potions. He will be completely healed in twelve more hours.”

Hale’s eyes fell closed and his hand reached out, almost immediately coming in contact with Laine. Tension released him and he sighed. “Remus?” he asked with his last remaining strength. He was asleep before Severus could answer.

xXx

Armand slipped into the bedroom on silent feet. The sun was setting and his friend had missed dinner as well as lunch and breakfast. He found Severus sitting in a chair beside the bed. He was reading a large, leather-bound book. Every few seconds, his eyes would dart to the two sleeping teenagers. The boys were doing much better. Laine had color in his cheeks, and he was resting peacefully on his side, facing Hale. Hale was sprawled on his back, but his hand was curled around Laine’s forearm, his head turned toward the older teen.

Armand’s attention turned to the older wizard. Severus was staring back, his face pale and expressionless. Dark circles ringed his equally dark eyes. His hair hung lank and greasy. His lips were chapped. “You need to eat and get some sleep. You haven’t slept in two nights now.” When it looked like Severus would argue, he firmed his voice. “I’ll keep watch on the boys. You’ll do us no good if you collapse.”

Severus sneered. “Has Tonks regained consciousness?”

“She has.” Armand boldly lifted the book from Severus’ lap: Ancient Creatures Lost To Time. “She went looking for Remus in the woods.”

“He still hasn’t shown up?” Severus allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He would never admit it, but Armand was correct. He was nearing total exhaustion.

“No.” Armand handed him the book and Severus took it. “I’ll have Ryrie deliver a small meal to your room.”

“Thank you,” Severus said softly and cast one more look on his boys. “They should sleep through the night. If either wakes feeling pain, give them the blue potion. Before breakfast tomorrow, Hale needs to take the green potion and Laine the yellow. ”

Armand didn’t protest that he knew what a pain reliever looked like. He simply nodded.

Without another word, Severus turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Feeling older than he had in a long time, he went to his bed to get whatever rest he could manage. He knew that with sleep came Laine and Hale’s memories, the exact thing he had been avoiding these past two nights.

xXx

November, 1985

Ten years ago

Laine was making his rounds, checking on the other children. His new charge trotted along at his heals. Ever since the boy had healed him, they’d been inseparable, and since the boy didn’t know his name (and how messed up was that?), Laine had taken to calling the boy Green-Eyes in his head. He wanted the boy to stay with him forever. He wanted to protect those bright green eyes from all the pain and filth in the world.

The door to the Hold opened, and Laine tensed in wretched anticipation. The food tray was placed on the top step. The door shut again without him being called up, and he let out a breath of relief. He looked down into curious eyes. “Wanna help?”

“Can I really?” the little boy asked with a wide smile. He was always so eager to be helpful.

“Don’t talk to them. Jus’ follow me.”

“Yes, Laine.”

Satisfied, feeling strong and invincible under the little boy’s trusting gaze, he stood, naked and dirty, and made his way up the stairs for the tray at the top. He brought it down and had the boy carry it for him. The little boy was stick-thin and he almost couldn’t manage the wide tray, but little Green-Eyes was stubborn. Laine made his way over to the Darks. It was their turn to eat. They watched him approach with intense eyes.

“I want my mommy,” a girl sobbed weakly. She’d been brought in the same day as Green-Eyes and was still weepy over her capture.

Laine gestured for his charge to put the tray down on the floor before the small group of kids. “Eat quick,” he ordered, unmoved by the emotional plea.

The Darks scrambled to claim the liter bottle of water, some bread, cheese, beef jerky, and some apples. The newest girl didn’t move. She just sat there and continued to cry.

“Don’t cry,” he snapped harshly. “No one’s gonna help you here. Eat. You won’t get more for a long time.”

Green-Eyes smiled at the girl and picked up a piece of bread. Laine knew this would end badly, but he let the kid continue, so that Laine could prove a point later. Seeing that she was getting attention, her cries grew louder. She made no move to take the offering. His charge tried again. Again, she began to cry louder.

Laine slapped the boy’s hand with a glare, making him drop the bread. “Leave her alone. If she wants to eat, she’ll get it herself.”

The boy was immediately contrite. “Sorry,” he whispered and backed away until he was practically behind Laine.

The other children, those who’d been there longer, eyed the food. When the crying girl made no move to grab her share, little hands snaked out and stole it from her. Laine let them. He picked up the empty tray and carried it to the top of the stairs before coming back down.

He glared at any of the crying children and made sure none of them were outside the designated areas he’d created before making his way to his private corner. His charge sat with his knees pulled to his chest. His eyes were wet as he stared up at him. Laine sighed and settled next to him, pulling both their blankets around their shoulders to keep out the damp cold.

“You don’t help ‘em by being nice,” he explained softly.

“I don’t understand,” the boy answered miserably. “I’m sorry I’m so stupid. Don’t be mad at me.”

“You’re not stupid.” He reached over and grabbed the little boy’s jaw with firm fingers, forcing the green eyes to meet his own. “Did I say that?”

“No,” the boy said softly, eyes bright with the hope of forgiveness.

Laine nodded and let him go. “Look, the people here aren’t gonna be nice to ‘em. They need to understand that quick. Understand?”

Green-Eyes stared at him as if he had all the answers. It made Laine feel good. “I won’t do it again.”

“You don’t have to be mean like me. It’s not your job to take care of ‘em. It’s mine. Jus’ ignore them.”

“Okay,” and even softer, he whispered, “Love you, Laine.”

Laine held his gaze for a moment to check the truth of those words before looking away. Tears burned his eyes. No one had loved him in a very long time. Laine almost didn’t remember what it felt like. It burned his chest and made his skin tingle.

They sat quietly together as Laine stroked his charge’s soft hair, absorbing the boy’s unconditional warmth and trust. It was the most wonderful thing he’d ever experienced in his hard life. He wanted to keep it forever. Even if it meant keeping the boy in the Hold and not letting him go to the mom and dad who wanted him.

As if God heard his bad thought, he was instantly punished. The Hold door opened and the Master stood framed, his long shadow falling on the frightened children. “Laine, bring the new boy.”

Laine smiled bitterly. As soon as he wanted something for himself, it was taken away. He knew better than to want things. He was so stupid to have broken his rule for the kid, but a few days of no pain almost made it worth it. “Come on,” he said, taking the boy’s small hand.

Both naked, they climbed the stairs and walked behind the Master down a narrow hallway. The ship swayed underneath their feet. The Master opened the last door by another set of stairs. The room was brightly lit with a huge window open to allow light and air in. A man and a woman were waiting there, and one gestured Green-Eyes further into the room. They helped the Master with cataloguing and acted like guards to make sure no problems occurred.

Numbly, he towed the boy over to the bucket. If those two were here, then something had gone very, very wrong. Laine desperately avoided making eye contact with his charge as he carefully washed all the dirt and grime from the soft skin. When that was done, he backed away. His charge was taken out of reach and placed on the table.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing…” the man remarked absently as he worked his camera, taking pictures of the naked boy.

A knot of pure dread sharply twisted Laine’s insides.

“You’re a cutie,” the woman cooed. Her hand slapped the little boy hard on the butt twice, making him whimper and look to Laine for reassurance. “There. Put more color on you.”

Laine had none to give. He was panting now, his fists curled with frustrated anger. He wanted so badly to cover the boy, keep him safe, but he was too scared to move. He was being punished. He had secretly wished the boy would stay with him and now look what happened! The kid was going in the catalogues for people who were looking to buy toys! Maybe if he waited, there would be a chance somehow to fix this. He hadn’t wanted this!

I have to be strong. I have to survive, he repeated his mantra desperately, his whole body trembling with the repressed urge to rescue his boy. This was the child who’d given him so much, the only one to ever love him, to take away his pain. He belonged to Laine now.

“Smile, kid.”

The green-eyed boy looked carefully into the round glass end and smiled his biggest smile.

Laine felt tears burn his eyes and roll slowly down his cheeks. He’d never seen such a beautiful smile. It would be smashed by these bastards.

“Laine.” The Master placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Come with me.”

He spun around, having forgotten the Master’s presence. He looked up with wild eyes, but he quickly masked his expression. The Master couldn’t become suspicious. It would be the worst thing that could happen. So he bowed his head submissively and nodded. His charge cried out for him fearfully. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do – and he’d had to do some very hard things – but Laine left without looking back.

He felt numb, his mind retreating as he was led to his Master’s bedroom. The door shut behind him. The bed loomed before him.

“Go stand in the corner. Bend over and touch your toes.”

Laine moved forward like a robot. Hate and fear warred within his head, making him feel like he was walking through fog. He bent over, his mouth and chin touching his knees; Master had made sure he was flexible. The man came up behind him and pressed him forward until he was on his toes, his back leaning against the wall, his head hanging upside down an inch off the ground. His feet were pressed outward. His ass was on display, his hole pointing almost straight up.

Laine was hyperventilating now. He hated these fucking games. It wasn’t enough that the bastard beat and tortured him for his own sick pleasure; he was going to rape him now. And the fucker was smart. He’d learned that if he penetrated Laine in any way with any part of his body, it would make him sick, so the bastard used objects to do it for him now.

“It’s your birthday, Laine. Did you know?” the deep, hated voice came from above him.

Laine opened his eyes to see his Master’s feet next to his. “Fuck you,” he hissed. Sweat dripped down into his eyes and stung.

The man laughed and Laine felt something blunt and wide push at his hole. Laine grabbed onto his ankles and grit his teeth. “Fuck!” he cried at the pain of being stretched so wide without lube or preparation.

Master stood above him and worked the thing in deeper, fucking him with it. “You’re such a pleasure to play with,” he practically purred. “Your face all flushed, your mouth gaping open, your little ass being split open by my toys.”

Laine bit his lip and refused to answer, refused to make any more sounds to get the bastard off. His eyes widened in horror as he heard a match light. Not fire play! It always hurt so badly and he always got fevers while healing the awful burns. Helpless to stop it, he began to cry. He almost couldn’t believe it when he heard a hard puff of air and smelt smoke as the match was blown out. Master hadn’t burned him! Begging and crying had never helped him before, so Laine was suspicious.

A large hand soothed down his trembling ass and thigh. “Make a wish, Laine. You’re seven now,” Master said with a laugh. When Laine didn’t answer, he slapped playfully at Laine’s inner thigh, hard enough to leave a welt. “I’ll be back, boy. If I see you’ve moved an inch, I’ll get out the branding iron.”

Laine shuddered. Nothing was as bad as that, and he resolved to hold still. He watched as Master’s feet left him. The door opened and closed, and then Laine was alone. He held his position, his calves burning from having to stay on his toes. Slowly, he started to sink his heels down, his tendons stretching the longer he stood folded in half against the wall.

Something hot dripped down his crack. Laine yelped and jerked. He gasped, eyes wide. Make a wish… The bastard had shoved a candle into his asshole and lit it! The hot wax was melting onto his skin. Biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed, Laine closed his eyes in horror. Pain seared his nerves as the burning hot wax dripped down over sensitive skin and over his genitals. He sobbed and yelped as the pain slowly grew worse, the soft skin beginning to blister.

xXx

Two days later

Freak waited anxiously with five other children. They stood in a line, their skin washed clean. They were in the same room he and Laine had gone to, but this time the window was shut and a curtain was across it. He was glad. It was night and very cold. All of them shook with it, but it was nice to get out of the dark Hold even for a little bit. He hoped he’d get to see Laine. His first ever friend had never come back. He was very worried. He tried to do Laine’s job, but he knew he wasn’t as good. The kids weren’t staying in their groups and a lot of them were crying more than when Laine was there.

The door opened and a well-dressed man walked in. The Master stepped in after him and gestured the other two adults from the room. Freak watched the Master, wondering how badly he’d be punished if he asked about Laine. His attention was drawn away when the stranger stepped forward and grabbed his chin, tilting it up.

“Scrawny bunch, Raymond,” he said, but his eyes didn’t leave the emerald orbs before him. “But… This one is beautiful nonetheless.”

“Put a little weight on him and he’ll be perfect,” the Master agreed. “We’ve only had him nine days. He’s completely clean and untouched. Worth a good ten grand, wouldn’t you agree?”

“He’s skin and bones. Who knows if he’ll live long enough to be fattened up? And there is still the possibility of internal damage. No more than five.”

The Master glared angrily. The other children cowered back, beginning to cry. Freak had no such option, his face still in the grip of the potential buyer. “That’s outrageous and you know it. No less than nine-five.”

“I’m a good customer. It wouldn’t be wise to over-inflate the price. Eight-five. That’s my final offer.”

“Damien, you drive a hard bargain… But it’s a deal.”

“Good. Have him dressed warmly while we finalize the purchase.”

The Master nodded and opened the door and the people from before stepped in. The man herded the others back toward the Hold and the woman came to the boy. She smiled at him and showed him the warm clothes she held. Freak marveled at the feel of them against his skin.

“You look precious,” she cooed and kissed him on the mouth.

He blushed red and looked shyly at the floor. He’d never been kissed before. She laughed but fell quiet when the door opened. The rich man was back. He looked him over and a slow smile spread across his face. He strode forward slowly. Freak looked down, afraid the man would see something wrong with him. He was a bad boy, after all. His mouth opened in an ‘o’ of surprise when instead of hateful words two strong hands reached for him and lifted him up onto a hip.

“Come, precious. It’s time to go to your new home.”

“Ummm…”

The man looked down at him. “Yes?”

“Can Laine come?” he asked very carefully, aware that he wasn’t allowed to ask questions.

“Laine? No. I’m sorry, but I only have room for one boy. Don’t worry. You’ll learn to like it with me.”

Freak said nothing more. The sharp look in the man’s eyes warned him that pressing further would be a very bad idea. Desperately unhappy, he lay his head down on the man’s shoulder to hide his silent tears. Laine was the only one to ever take care of him. He loved Laine. He didn’t want to leave him!

xXx

Laine drifted on red waves, pain streaking across his imaginary sky like serrated lightning. Cuffs chained him to the ceiling. His legs, not having the strength to support his body, had given out. His arms were numb, having lost circulation. It would be so easy to pass out completely, escape for blessed minutes, but he couldn’t. The image of his little boy haunted him. What was happening to Green-Eyes? Whatever it was couldn’t be good, and it was Laine’s fault for making that stupid wish.

“It’s time to get back to work, Laine. Your punishment is over.”

Laine arched as a rough hand ran over his battered back possessively. He hadn’t even realized the Master was in the room.

He crumpled to the ground as his Master unchained his wrists. He gritted his teeth against the wave of agony that followed. He had to get the little boy out before he was bought. He was done being his Master’s pet. He was going to escape!

He gulped in air and forced his legs to hold him. He hoped like hell that Master didn’t know what he was thinking. “Thank you,” he managed to say, hate and pain making his voice rough.

The Master watched him stagger and stumble down the hall back toward the Hold, and he heard laughter when he practically fell down the stairs. Only years of suffering kept the scream behind his teeth as he impacted the rough wooden floor.

When the agony abated and he could think again, he realized the children were all unusually silent. His charge wasn’t there. Green-Eyes would have come rushing over by now if he were. He didn’t know how the man had known he’d become attached to the kid, but his little boy was gone and that was the only reason why Laine had been released. The bastard, for he wouldn’t even think of the man as Master ever again, had done all this on purpose.

“Tell me,” he growled, his voice a rasp of fury. “Someone tell me who bought my boy.”

“A… A big man with brown hair… for lots of dollars,” a young teen spoke up from the Pet group.

“Name,” Laine demanded icily.

“He was called D-Damien,” another kid answered.

Laine collapsed against the wall. No, not Damien! The man was infamous for buying and training kids just to sell them off for extreme amounts of money as skilled sex toys. He clenched his eyes shut against the memories of his own training – the manipulation and preparation that led up to him being raped for the first time – led up to his first kill.

I have to get the boy back! I won’t let that happen to him! He’s MINE! But first he had to heal up a bit, regain some strength. He could hardly walk. The fat bastard upstairs had nearly crippled him. His arms were clumsy and uncoordinated; his legs kept giving out underneath him. If he tried to escape now, he’d be caught and it would all be for nothing. No. Laine was going to be smart. He was going to do it right. He would get back what was his!

xXx

one week later

The floor vibrated slightly, as it did every night, with the blaring music from the club downstairs. Precious had asked once to go down and see what it was like, but he had been strictly forbidden to do so or even ask again. The boy quickly complied. At least he was barefoot. He loved how he could feel the music vibrate up through his feet.

“Hurry. Master will be back soon,” Sara told him.

She had bright brown eyes and long blonde hair. She lived up in the Master’s apartment with him but talked as little as possible. He had tried to make her a friend. It didn’t work too well. She’d just ignore him or walk away. He was sad that he was so bad that she couldn’t be his friend. He wished he wasn’t such a freak. Sadly, he looked down at the pictured he’d just colored. He’d been excited to show his Master, but now he realized it was stupid. Master wouldn’t want it.

The door opened and Master walked in. Precious scrambled to his feet and hurried over to where Sara was already kneeling. Master had taught him the correct way to greet him the first day. He dropped to his knees, his forehead pressed to the floor, his wrists up and exposed stretched out in front of him, and his head tilted just a bit to reveal his neck. His heart pounded in fear. They were supposed to be already in position when Master got home.

Precious’s heart sank when he crawled forward to press his cheek to his Master’s thigh and was pushed away. Sara was allowed to finish the greeting. She rubbed her cheek up their Master’s thigh and was lifted to her feet. The Master kissed her slowly and she arched in pleasure. The boy remembered how their Master’s kisses made his whole body tingle.

Cold anxiety clenched his stomach. He was being punished; Master was ignoring him. It felt like he was being shredded, but he would take any punishment to stay. He prayed every morning that his Master wouldn’t send him away like his uncle had. This place was so much better than the Dursley’s, better even than the dark, damp Hold where he was naked and scared. Laine had been the only good thing there, and he’d been taken away.

Trembling, the boy huddled on the floor, hardly aware of Master walking into the room and stopping where he’d left the paints and picture.

“Did you do this, precious?”

He hated himself. “Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master!”

There was silence. Precious braced for a beating. When nothing happened, he glanced up with teary eyes. His Master was staring at the paper. The boy flinched when his Master met his eyes.

“Who is it for?”

“It’s for you, Master,” he whispered miserably.

“Thank you, precious.” Master came over and lifted him off the floor and onto his hip. Precious clung to him, crying in relief that he’d been forgiven. “It’s beautiful.” He walked over to the kitchen with the boy still in his arms and placed the picture on the refrigerator.

Precious stared at it in awe. “Thank you, Master,” he said thickly, feeling weak with pathetic gratitude.

“And now I think you need a bath. You’re more colorful than the television!”

The boy giggled shyly as they made their way to the bath. The water was warm and he splashed bubbles at his Master. Master laughed and splashed him back. They played a bit, racing the boats and pretending before beginning to wash each other’s hair and bodies. Precious was careful to wash every inch of his Master, wanting to do good and make him happy. He looked up surprised when he washed between his Master’s legs and his Master moaned.

“Feels good to be clean there, precious,” Master said, smiling down at him.

Precious smiled back and paid extra attention to that area. He froze as his Master’s privates began to grow and stand up. He looked up, afraid he’d done something wrong.

“No. It’s good,” Master reassured him. He reached forward and pulled him into a kiss.

Precious leaned into it eagerly, still upset about missing his kiss when Master came home.

After a while, Master released him and it was the boy’s turn to be washed. He always felt so special to be washed by his Master. He didn’t even mind when Master’s soapy finger slipped up inside him to make sure he was clean everywhere. When they were finished, he climbed out of the bath. Master wrapped him in a fluffy towel and carried him into the bedroom. Two thin pads lay on the floor across from each other. Between them, against a different wall, was the Master’s huge king sized bed.

“Crawl into bed,” Master ordered.

“Yes, Master,” Precious answered and obediently crawled naked onto his pad. Sara was already on her own, her eyes closed.

He was getting used to sleeping naked after being in the Hold so long. He was just grateful Master gave him one of his T-shirts to wear during the day while he was gone. Sara wore one, too. Precious loved it. He hadn’t really liked wearing Dudley’s old clothes, but wearing something of the Master’s made him feel wanted and accepted. Sighing happily, he closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep.

Something pulled him from his dreams. It was uncomfortable and he slid his eyes open as he felt the pressure move. His Master was leaning over him, sitting beside the thin pad that lay on the floor. He opened his mouth to voice a question – his Master had never woken him before – but was silenced when his Master’s hand came up and ran gently through his hair.

“Hush, precious,” Master soothed. “Relax. It won’t hurt. I take good care of you, don’t I?”

The boy nodded and bit his lip. Something was inside him. He moved his legs closer together on instinct and realized that his Master’s wrist was between his thighs.

“Tell me how I take good care of you,” Master coaxed in a gentle, soft voice, eyes locked on the little boy’s.

The thing – it felt like a finger – inside Precious began to slowly drag out and push back in. It was like in the bath, but this felt weirder. He arched his back, little fists grasping the bedding under him. He struggled to obey and answer his Master. “You… you give me… all the food I want.”

“Yes. And you eat so very much, don’t you?”

He blushed. He did eat a lot, much more than Sara. She didn’t eat half so much as him, and she was two years older. But his Master didn’t mind. He just laughed and brought him more.

Precious gasped as the finger pressed in harder than before. It sank into him in a fast slide. He moaned, eyes fluttering shut, his whole body on fire with the strange sensations. The finger moved in and out, again and again. Precious was covered in sweat. He was panting now. Something was happening to him. His eyes flew open; he needed his Master. He was afraid of what was happening to him, but trusted his Master to help him.

Master’s eyes watched him carefully. They were bright with affection and warmth. His Master’s cheeks were red, and he was smiling, Master’s mouth open slightly. “You are doing so good, precious. I wish you could see how beautiful you are. I am so very happy with you, my boy.”

Precious gasped and moaned, legs trembling as the finger rubbed his insides with increasing pressure and speed. It was hurting a little bit, but he didn’t want it to stop. Not if he was doing so good. He closed his eyes and whimpered.

“No, precious. I want you to watch me while I open you.” Master leaned down and kissed the boy’s open mouth. His tongue darted inside for a quick taste of heaven. “Tell me what else you like here.”

Struggling to keep his heavy eyes open, Precious did his best to answer. “I’m warm… and cl-clean. Ah!” The finger slammed in, making him cry out, but then it held still inside him and he began to relax. Maybe it was over?

“You get a bubble bath every night. You like that?” Master asked, mouth close to the little boy’s ear.

“Y-yes,” he admitted guiltily. He’d never had a bath before. When his Master played ships with him, it made him feel so very happy.

A second finger pressed at him, trying to join the first. He went rigid. He didn’t like this game so much. Tears burned at his eyes, and he looked pleadingly at his Master who had treated him so kindly.

“Precious, you’re making this hard on yourself. Please? I take such good care of you. Just relax. Open your legs for me.”

He didn’t want to, but… But what if his Master got mad at him? Would he be punished? Would he be sent away? Slowly, his trembling legs began to spread.

“Good, Precious. Very good. You make me so happy.”

He let out a little scream as he was stretched painfully. Pressure built inside him and he squeezed down hard, muscles contracting as he tried to get the fingers out. It hurt really bad and he began to cry. Scared, Precious looked up into the proud, smiling face of his Master and knew this wasn’t going to stop.

His Master lay down next to him, his head next to the boy’s, and Precious turned so he wouldn’t lose eye contact. He thought he’d scream without it. His Master began to softly stroke his hair. “Tell me, do you like it here?”

“Yes,” the boy whispered.

“What would you change? I want to make you happy.”

“Wh-why?” he sobbed. “Why are you doing this?”

Master moved both fingers in a circle in the boy’s tight channel. He ignored the boy’s loud whimper. “It’s to help your body prepare for my favorite game in the whole world. It makes me so very happy. Shouldn’t you want to make me as happy as I make you?”

Sweating, burning, Precious grabbed on to his Master’s shirt and held on tightly. “Y-yes.”

“That’s right. And it’s not so bad. Does it hurt so very much?”

Precious could only cry.

The fingers began a slow slid in and out of his stuffed hole. “What about flowers? Do you think we should bring in some flowers?”

“I like flowers,” the boy whispered.

“Really? Me, too!” Master smiled brightly. Panting, the little boy pressed his sweaty forehead into his Master’s shoulder. “Just a bit longer. Think of something else. Tell me what you want for breakfast.”

“Uh! Oh… p-pancakes … and j-juice…”

“Open your legs a bit wider. Yes… Bring your knees up…”

The little boy reached with violently trembling hands and grasped the back of his spread thighs. Moaning, he slowly pulled up until his knees rested against his chest. The fingers slid deeper than ever before and Precious let out a little scream.

Master bathed his face in little kisses. His free hand ran through his damp hair, and slowly the pain faded and his cries came to a stop. “Oh, you’re so good at this, precious. I’m so proud.”

The boy bit his trembling lip, his body flushing with pleasure at the praise. He could do this. It wasn’t so bad. He tried desperately to think of food. The fingers moved smoothly in and out, filling him, making his muscles burn. Precious clutched his legs and held on tightly.

After long minutes, the thrusting fingers left him. Precious gasped and arched slightly at the dull pain. Exhausted, he curled up on his side facing his Master, who smiled at him and pulled the blanket back over his body. The last thing he saw before he fell back to sleep was that smile, and he felt really happy that he’d finally been good.

xXx

It was time. Laine couldn’t wait any longer. The thought of staying one more second made cold sweat break out across his skin. He just couldn’t take anymore. Every day that passed unspeakable things were happening to Green-Eyes. His back was still raw and his limbs trembled with weakness, but he literally couldn’t stay. He’d rather die than stay here in this hell.

… Green-Eyes needs me…

He sat up, biting his lip at the pain as new skin pulled dangerously. Nothing broke open, however, so Laine carefully got to his feet. The kids whimpered as he passed. They brought him food but had otherwise kept their distance. Especially after he’d beat on the one who tried to help him the way Green-Eyes had. If they thought they could replace his boy, they were dead wrong.

At the bottom of the stairs, he paused. “I’m gonna escape if you wanna come,” he rasped without looking back.

… Gotta save the little boy, he’ll fix me, he’ll make the pain go away…

There was silence and then the sound of timid footsteps as a handful of kids, mostly the older ones, huddled around him. Laine nodded and climbed up the stairs. He didn’t care if they escaped or not; he just figured he had a better chance if there were other kids running around. This had to work. He knew he’d never get another chance.

… and I can take good care of Green-Eyes, just gotta get away…

The door to the Hold was unlocked. No one had tried to escape before, so it was unnecessary. Laine peeked out, hands slick with sweat and his heart pounding painfully. The hallway was empty. He gestured behind him and the kids scrambled out into the light. As silently as they could, they crept toward the stairs at the end that would lead to the deck. Laine was wheezing by the time they got to the top.

Terrified and dizzy from his injuries, he lifted his head over the lip. He was half certain something would bash him in the skull as soon as he did, but it was quiet. Tight little sobs of fear echoed from the kids at his back. He couldn’t stop shaking.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

… Can’t ever go back, bastard’ll hurt me so bad, gotta keep going…

“RUN!” he screamed, and the kids jerked as if shot before scattering. Laine stumbled as he crossed the rocking deck and fell to his knees. He hardly registered the pain as he staggered up and lunged for the railing.

“LAINE!”

The bellow almost made him faint in terror, his breathing became rapid and light as a startled rabbit. The memories of all the hours suffering under those cruel hands rose to choke him. Thankfully, his body tipped backward as his legs collapsed. He fell overboard.

Icy water hit his shredded skin, and he screamed a stream of bubbles into the utter darkness. Jerking, flailing weakly, he clawed for the surface. Once he finally fought free, he could hardly get his lungs to work. Almost his body gave out on him, but he forced himself onward. He couldn’t give up. He forced himself to move.

… Green-Eyes needs me! …

Naked, his body tight and jerky from the agonizing cold, Laine swam. He couldn’t feel his arms and legs. It was dark. The water tasted salty and fishy. It stunk. He swam and swam; swam until his vision faded in an out. Then he saw it; a small boat. Laine flailed and cried out weakly. Bright lights blinded him as nets cradled his broken, naked body. He shivered violently as he was hoisted out of the water. Burning hot hands grabbed at him, voices shouted above his head. Laine passed out.

xXx

May 27^th, 1995

Zabini Manor, Italy

Severus woke furious. He flung his covers violently from his body and stomped over to his dresser to get changed for the day. He slammed his dresser drawer closed and didn’t acknowledge Armand when the younger man slipped into his bedroom. Severus roughly pulled a shirt over his head.

“How could he?” he snarled, spittle flying from his lips. “Laine has to KNOW what that bastard did to Harry! How can he touch his own brother like that?” He yanked his pants on, nearly breaking the button. “Harry was TAUGHT TO BLOODY LIKE IT, even as he was painfully molested! Laine’s taking ADVANTAGE of that! He knows Hale won’t protest!”

Armand calmly grabbed Severus’ wrist as the enraged wizard tried to go around him. He let his friend rave and tire himself out, all the while something built inside his own chest.

“And why the bloody hell would Laine WANT to? He was TORTURED by that sick bastard for YEARS! How could he stand becoming ONE OF THEM? I will put a stop to this IMMEDIATELY! If Laine thinks he can behave so abhorrently, he is deluded! I will make sure he never sees his brother again!”

When Severus finally fell silent, Armand yanked the man around to face him. He could imagine the gutting sensation Laine would feel if Severus carried out his threat. “You will do nothing, say nothing, until you see all of the memories. I am utterly appalled at how quickly you believe such evil of your eldest. Do you really think him capable of abusing Hale, whom he obviously cares deeply for? You will calm yourself and consider the information you’ve gained rationally.”

Shocked, Severus yanked away. For a long minute, he just glared at Armand, but after a moment, he stalked over to the closet, putting distance between them. He roughly grabbed his most severe robes. Engulfed in all black, he felt more like himself. He still couldn’t look at Armand. His wand hand itched to throw painful hexes his way.

Glaring darkly, Severus faced his friend. “I assume by your presence in my room that the boys have woken and taken their potions?”

“They did,” Armand answered stiffly. His usually calm expression was gone. He looked upset and refused to meet Severus’ eyes. “Laine said they’d meet us for breakfast.”

Severus gave a stilted nod to indicate he’d heard Armand’s answer and stalked from the room.

Chapter end.
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Freedom In Chains