Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tarnished Lion	By : InvidiaRed Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 56639 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I make no money off of this fanfiction. Harry Potter and its world isn't mine. Any and all resemblance is entirely coincidental. Again, All fun and practice.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Harry stirred with a smile he winced momentarily as his scar throbbed.
His half lidded green eyes as he gingerly touched the area around his forehead. It was inflamed. No matter, Harry shrugged as he snatched his glasses from his nightstand.
He had mastered Vanishing.
Barty however it seemed was not in a giving mood. What a rebellious servant. The Dark Arts sang so sweetly to him. Oh, Barty was clever to change his appearance and of the curses he knew. There was no doubt.
And Markus Scarrs dwelled in a place filled with it but neither of them could compare to his first. The one who rejected his master. Cedric would be punished for such a slight. Harry Lamented it in fact.
Too proper for his own good. He could only hope the ministry was doing that job for him. He could only imagine what Rita Skeeter’s poisonous quill had been doing.
With the full backing of the ministry. Harry dressed quickly pulling on trousers and his red shirt.
Harry hissed as his scar burned for a moment.
Thankfully the dark mark on his inner thigh remained cordial. Such pain would sour his mood. He pulled on his jumper just to be safe..
The dad looking fellow from yesterday had been awkward. Harry took care to make sure his wand was safely holstered at his side. Before he went to the kitchen.

They ate in silence.
Routine had set in. He was counting down the days faithfully. The telly was on while Petunia was a decent cook. Harry would wager he was better.
Two suspects were found dead this morning in their hospital rooms. Authorities are under investigation-“ Harry had gone cold. That wanker at the top or his minions had found out the briefcase wasn’t there in that building that just so happened to burn down.
Dudley turned the channel and Harry kept his head down as he ate. Harry wasn’t going to take chances now. That suspicious man was going straight under imperio. The first moment he got. He’d be able to get the truth out from him.
“Harry” Vernon looked decidedly uncomfortable as he expressed with his hands.
“Whats magic like?” He asked and Harry was surprised he’d break his own taboo. Of his best mates, of Hogwarts and all times he had with them.
Vernon deserved to know none of that. What could Harry tell Vernon of something he didn’t want to admit existed?
Harry thought for a moment and Petunia looked like she was about to faint. Even piggish Dudely looked so surprised he had dropped the remote on the table.
“No, Sir” Harry replied as polite as he possibly could. Vernon looked at him flabbergasted.
Harry didn’t wait for the follow question so he just picked up everyone dishes stacked them and brought them to the sink.
“You don’t want to know Vernon. Don’t pretend you do. We’re all just freaks to you. I’m just a freak to you. I don’t fit in your normal world Vernon.” Harry said sadly.
As he picked up the bin bag. Taking comfort in the routine more than anything else. As he looked right at Vernon.
“You probably never realized this Vernon. But you are part of the problem. You and people just like you. Crazy over wanting normal appearances. In a better world we wouldn’t be freaks Vernon. I’d just be your nephew who lost his parents.-“ Harry took a breath
“How many people like you sent freaks like me to burn at the stake?”
Harry had no more to say. Vernon looked at him as though he was seeing him for the first time. He didn’t even slam the door. He closed it and dropped the full bag in the bin.
What he said was harsher in hindsight. The poor innocents of the witch hunts had almost all been muggles. But Vernon didn’t know that. That illusion of normalcy people killed for it.
With his chore done he hurried down the lane and the long walk towards the quickly becoming familiar public loo.
He kept his hand near his wand. As he entered and used the loo. His piss loudly streaming into the urinal.
He washed his hands and walked out towards the bushes and he hide behind the tree and waited. Harry kept his wand at the ready. Harry remained alert for any noise.
There was a rustle as someone walked through the bushes.
Harry emerged from behind the tree.
“Imperio!” The man shuddered the blow of the imperius curse. It was the same man from the day before. The older man in the dressed warmly in a dark blue jumper and gloves with a beanie on his head.
His brown eyes dilated as the dark arts flooded Harry. Euphoria sending tingles down Harry’s spine. The man smiled in bliss.
Blood rushed south. Harry hurriedly grabbed the imperisued man and dragged him into the back stall and locked the door.
Harry just wanted to enjoy the rush. To feel the dark spread throughout his body like an incendio. Why had he denied himself this pleasure?
“Oh your knees.” Harry commanded and the man blissfully dropped to his knees.
“Now what am I going to do about you?” Harry mused. His wand pointed straight into blissful brown eyes.
“Legilimens” Harry sped into the man’s mind.
“I want that briefcase found.” There was a flash of a photograph taken from the police box. It showed a boy with messy black hair clutching that silver briefcase. The sound of tapping the needle before fluid being expelled from a syringe. There was the sound of gunfire and of barracks. Too many jumbled memories of dead faces and more. He beheld a seeming abandoned warehouse. A dentist like chair and a table nearby with the photograph. “Make him talk.”
Harry took a step back. Legilimens was disorienting. He needed more practice. It took a moment or two before he got his bearings.
The photograph. Taken from the police box from which he had reported the fire. He wouldn’t be able to hide from the one at the top.
He had to strike first before he wound up dead in his bed. No. He wasn’t going to let this ruin his summer. This would ruin his only attempt to leave this damned place no… Panic rose and he succumbed. He would not allow himself to be trapped with the Dursleys. All because of some fat rich muggle wanker.
Unless….
He got rid of everyone involved. Part of Harry resisted this wasn’t him. He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t do this.
Harry unzipped his trousers.
“Suck me off slut.” Harry wasn’t patient as the man leaned forward. Harry gripped that beanie and rammed his cock straight into that throat.
The imperious curse did impart skill apparently. For the man did not struggle or gag as Harry brutally forcefully lodged himself into that throat. Wizards reacted strangely. The muggle’s mind could break for all he cared.
As he thrust into that obedient mouth. He ravaged that throat with his cock. He forced himself all the way as his pleasure ride crested that familiar cliff of no return.
Harry cried out with his impending release and clutched that head all the way to his base. As his body tensed and he clenched, and he felt that throat swallow and he rang every last drop down that throat. Before he shoved the man away from himself.
That man collapsed to the ground and began to shudder. Harry tucked himself back in and looked around for that silver briefcase but it wasn’t behind the toilet nor anywhere.
He didn’t need Barty.
“Rennervate” As he pointed at the twitching muggle killer. If that glimpse of the syringe was any indication.
He wasn’t going to wait for the syringe in the dark. Or the explosives or the bullet from long range. All the violent movies Dudley liked to watch. How did he know his servants were loyal? Harry winced from the sudden burning of his scar.
How did he completely remove any evidence?
Harry rubbed his inflamed scar in an effort to make the hurting stop. His fingers came away wet and sticky. The smell of blood and Harry looked at his bloody hand. He took the toilet paper and wiped his head.
He vanished the bloodied mess in his hand. No trace could remain that he was ever there.
He looked at his clean hand. Actually, he did know a spell that could fix both. He didn’t remember where he had read it.
Enchanted black flame. Yes. He had read it somewhere during his brutal training session with Moody. He was sure of it.
He’d have no more doubts. He’d make Markus and Barty walk through the enchanted fire.
There was but one thing left to do.
Let the dark lion loose.
Harry looked down at his would-be interrogator. His caution had been well placed.
“You there.” He stated as he addressed the older man. The one who’d torture him for a stolen briefcase.
“Take me to the warehouse with the photograph.” He commanded. For a moment he didn’t think the man heard him.
The man struggled to his feet. He tried to speak but all that came out was garbled noise.
“No need to talk.” Harry rasped.

Mr. Carbuncle pissed loudly into the urinal. This is what he got for owing a higher up a goddamn favor. So what if he needed alittle extra on his paycheck to pay his gambling debts?
When a higher up offered cash under the table for a certain task. You just didn’t say no. Even if all they wanted you to do was maintain a warehouse for a weekend.
He did need the paycheck. And he didn’t need to ask questions.
He quickly tucked himself in before he walked to the sink to wash his hands. Was that a gray hair?! He wasn’t getting paid enough for this.
There was a loud resounding squelching sound. Mr. Carbuncle Quickly dried his hands and threw the cheap soggy mess into the nearest bin.
He took a step outside of the restroom.
Surely, he wasn’t the only one who heard that?
There was the sound of hurried footsteps.
There was a youth with messy black hair and glasses that was about to pass him. His jumper made it obvious that he had just come from out side.
Mr.Carbuncle was about to ask the obvious question of why a child was in his warehouse. Those determined green eyes didn’t even look at him as they crossed paths. The youth had an object in his hand and the moment the youth crossed him.
The youth slashed out and mumbled something. The next moment blood was spraying everywhere.
Mr.Carbuncle realized it was his blood and then he toppled over. The thick gash at his neck couldn’t be staunched by his hands.
How had that boy tore open his neck so savagely with a stick? He wondered as he watched the kid turn the corner as he slumped over his lifeblood pumping past his fingers.
And there in the kid’s hand was indeed a stick. He hadn’t come anywhere close to his neck-
Mr.Carbuncle felt it all go white.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Tarnished Lion