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Change In Me	By : Araea Swiftwind Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Dudley/Harry Views: 17435 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money from the writing of this piece of fiction. I am simply a fan, doing what I love. If you don't like it, you can stuff it.

Chapter List
- 1-Change In Me
- 2-Chapter Two
- 1
- 2
Title: Change In Me

Author: Araea Swiftwind

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything contained therein. This is written solely for my own pleasure. I make no money off the writing of this story (if I did, I'd probably update more often.) This story is not intended to slander or in any way harm or insult any one person or group of peoples. This is a work of fiction and in no way reflects the views or interests of the original creator of Harry Potter or her affiliated companies.

Warning: Adult themes, such as slash and abuse. Also, INCEST. I will not be flamed, thank you very much, because someone didn’t realize that Dudley and Harry are related and this is a story about them. It states pretty clearly in the story information that it’s Dudley/Harry and that it’s Slash. Get over it or go away.

Pairing: Dudley Dursley/Harry Potter (with possible minor mentions of Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini in future chapters)

A/N: This is a story that I do currently have up on fanfiction.net. However, as I am having some technical issues with that website, I am going to move all of my stories from over there to here. Everything will eventually be housed here only. For any of you who have read this on ff.net, it's going to pretty much be the same, though some minor edits have been made. I am also posting this in smaller chunks than I did on ff.net so that the story stretches farther. (17+ pages per chapter is a bit long for me now.) Anyways, without further ado, here is the first part of Change In Me!

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Dudley

Grunt. “Damn, for someone so little, you sure do weigh a ton,” I muttered as I dragged my cousin, Harry Potter, across the lawn of Number 4 Privet Drive towards the back of the house. Harry didn’t answer, but I doubt it is because he didn’t have anything to say. He was unconscious, thanks to me. Piers chuckled dryly about ten meters off, sitting in wait for me to come around. He was probably laughing because he had hefted Potty before, and the boy only weighed as much as a ten-pound sack of potatoes, though not literally.

When I finally made my way back to the shed with my unconscious burden, me and Piers--though mostly Piers--threw Harry inside. I followed after. Piers was about to as well, but I suddenly stopped him with my large hand on his chest.

“Hey mate, thanks for the help, but I want to teach Potty a lesson all by myself, if you don’t mind.” Piers looked at me oddly, not used to being left out of the torture when we got out hands on Harry, but left us alone all the same. I gave the unconscious Harry a cruel smile before closing the shed door with a rather loud snap, effectively keeping prying eyes and ears away from what was going to happen.

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Harry

Groggy blackness filled my mind, as if I were struggling beneath the battering waves of the great black ocean. For some reason, thoughts eluded me. I couldn’t tell if I was awake or dreaming, up or down. Shapes were swirling around my head now, but none of them made any sense. Spontaneously, sweaty, pale hands reached towards me and pulled me up to the surface rather forcefully.

Once above water, I took a shuddering breath and started coughing. Dudley laughed at me, and pounded me hard on the back. It didn’t stop my coughing. In fact, it aggravated it. Fat water droplets were dripping off of my head, and down my neck. Dudley had decided to wake me up by shoving my head forcefully into a bucket of rainwater Petunia collected to water her garden.

I was sure at first that I was going to die. Dudley had this look on his face like he was going to kill me, and then pick his teeth with my bones. Then, all of a sudden, a smile shoved its way onto his face. “I really had you scared there, didn’t I, Potty?” Laughing heavily, Dudley moved away from me to fiddle with something in the shadows. I took the moment of his preoccupation to wipe my dripping nose and eyes, clearing them both of the tepid water.

“Hey, Big D. What are we doing in the shed?” I had noticed our location by the bucket of rainwater, and the heavy smell of potting soil in the air. Dudley ignored me and continued rooting around for something, his great arse thrown unflatteringly in the air, making him seem like a wild pig digging for roots. I could hear him grunting and muttering to himself about something, I had no idea what, but it all came together to solidify my comparison.

Finally, after much grunting, moaning, muttering and rooting, Dudley straightened up and turned around. He had a blindfold, a gag, and something long and thick in his hands. It made me nervous. He had the most lecherous look on his face, and I paled considerably. I had a good idea what he was going to do with the gag and the blindfold, but I didn’t want to think about what he would do with the long, blunt object.

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Dudley

I could see the look of fear in little Potty’s eyes as I turned around with my “devices” in hand. I knew he knew what the gag and blindfold were for, but the heavy stick in my hand confused and scared him. I was going to enjoy his torture. I just knew he would scream, and cry, and beg me to stop…but I wouldn’t. I want to see little Potty cry out for help, just like I did.

It was last year today that something really bad happened to me. Potty had gone to the park, I guess, to do God knows what. I didn’t really care. But, anyway, the guys and I went out to terrorize the kids in the neighborhood. After a few hours of it, I knew it was getting late and I would have to make sure Potty got in on time, or else Dad would start yelling again. And when he yelled, I couldn’t hear the telly. Anyways, the guys and I went to the park to check and see if Potty was there, and sure enough he was.

He was sitting alone on one of the swings, his eyes closed and both hands clenched into fists. I could tell that something was bothering him, but the other guys just thought he was daydreaming or something. They started in on him, making fun of him for being such a “girl” and having daydreams. I didn’t pick on him right away, in sympathy for whatever was bothering him, but I knew that if I were too nice to him, the guys would get suspicious.

I walked Potty back to the house quickly, shovin’ him a bit so that the guys wouldn’t think I had gone soft…not that I had or anything. Doesn’t matter. Potty and I were just about to walk through the tunnel under the road when some slimeball came up to us. I thought he was interested in Potty, the way he kept looking at us with those creepy Child Molester eyes. But when he shoved Potty away and came at me…I knew he didn’t care one wit about stupid Potty.

They slimeball had friends hidin’ a bit up the way, and he made sure I got to where they were by herding me there, playing off of my fear of him. The other guys overpowered me and forced me to the ground. I had no idea what they wanted with me. I didn’t care. I figured I could take them, so I started fighting. Unfortunately, I look tougher than I am, and I was overpowered once again. I didn’t know where Potty was.

I don’t like talking about what happened next. It hurts to think about, mostly because I don’t really understand why. It should have been Potty who had the men touch him like an object. It should have been Potty who had his pants ripped of and his cheeks spread. It should have been Potty who was forced to suck another man off. It should have been Potty who had been raped… Why would anyone rape someone like me? Freaks like Potty should be the ones who have bad stuff happen to them.

When we got back to Number 4, Harry told Mum and Dad that these…dementoids…had come and done something to me. He never told them the truth, and for that…I guess I was thankful. But I would have been even more thankful if he would have used his stupid stick to stop them from touching me. I would have been really fucking thankful if it would have been him instead of me. Mum and Dad got really mad at Potty after he told them about the dementoids. They didn’t really believe him, but when this letter arrived from the freak’s Ministry, they new that something freakish had happened. All Harry got was a slap on the wrist…all I got were nightmares.

Movement from Potty broke me out of my inner turmoil. “Where do you think your going, Potty?” I sneered at him. He looked up at me from the floor with slight fear in his eyes. He must not have had his precious stick on him. He wouldn’t be able to fight me off then. I advanced on him and grabbed his arms in one of mine and pinned him to the floor with my knees taking the place of my hand, freeing me up to do what I needed to. Blindfold first. It only took me a few seconds to get the blindfold on him, and a few more to securely tie on the gag. He wouldn’t need it for long…not once I’ve started on my revenge. It was then I realized I forgot something.

I got off him and go back to my crate of supplies I had hidden in the shadows. I forgot something to tie him up with. I didn’t want him to fight me…at least not yet. Finding the length of rope I had, I turned back to him and proceeded to tie his hands together above his head, and I left his legs free. He looked a bit like a human sacrifice and it pleased me.

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Harry

I knew something was off when Dudley’s eyes went blank for a bit. He must have been thinking about something. Figuring he would be out for a while, I tried to slowly edge my way towards the door. Unfortunately, my moving must have shaken him from his stupor, because he glared at me and sprung into action. He blindfolded me first. Then, he tightly tied the gag around my mouth. It really hurt, as it was biting into the corners of my mouth. It really wouldn’t keep me from talking much…but enough that I wouldn’t be able to perform any spells…though I had forgotten my wand in the house anyways.

After the gag was in place, I heard Dudley curse softly under his breath and move off somewhere…I guess he must have forgotten something. A second later, he had his hands around my wrists again and was tying me up, with my hands above my head tied to a leg of the potting shelf…I thought. I couldn’t be sure of anything with my eyes covered. He left my legs free. I found that odd, but I couldn’t really ask about it.

I gasped then, because Dudley was unbuttoning my shirt with rough fingers, fingers that were slightly shaking. I didn’t expect it, which made it all the worse. After my shirt was unbuttoned, I could feel my cousin running his fat, sweaty hands over my exposed flesh. It gave me goose pimples…but not because I was enjoying it. I had a sick sense of dread then. I knew where he was going with this. It was the anniversary of his rape…and it was my turn.

Not that I escaped the last time.

The whole time the child molesters were having their fun with Dudley…I had my own attackers to worry about. As soon as the creep who took Dudley had left the opening to the tunnel, some of his buddies came to keep me preoccupied. It only took one of them to get me to the ground, face against the concrete, loose pebbles embedding in my skin. Another one pulled my shirt off and began running a knife slowly and painfully down my back. Yet another took my pants and skivvies off and ran his own blade across my legs and arse. While they were stealing Dudley’s innocence, they were taking much more from me. My rapists were taking my pride, my innocence, and my future. The second assailant carved SLAVE into by back, just above my shoulder blades. The third carved the word WHORE into the tender flesh of my arse. I wasn’t raped like Dudley was. Oh, no. Mine was much worse. He got the forgiving flesh of his attackers. I got the cold, hard steel of mine’s blade.

It cut me open and spilled my blood on the concrete. I couldn’t sit comfortably for a month. For Dudley, it was a few days. I never threw it in Dudley’s face that he got off easy. I don’t think he ever knew. That was fine; let him think what he wants. I lied for him, and told his parents that Dementors attacked us. They believed me when the letter from the Ministry came. The letter came because I used magic to clean up the scene and to heal Dudley. The ministry never found out the truth, but Dumbledore got me off anyway.

It really didn’t matter. Nothing mattered after all that I had lost. I would never again be able to live a normal life…in any sense of the word. I was branded a slave…a whore. Branded for the rest of eternity. My wounds still won’t heal, the ones in my flesh, or the ones in my heart.

I could still feel Dudley’s hands abusing my flesh, pinching my nipples, and scratching at my skin. He must be replicating what he felt that day, and I shuddered to think of how it must’ve been for him. I grew up with pain, but Dudley…he didn’t know how to cope with hurt. He then sucked hard on my neck, and I knew he’d leave a bruise. I just hoped Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn’t notice. Dudley’s mouth moved from my neck down to my chest, sucking and biting my nipples much too hard. It hurt, but not as bad as the first time. Nothing could compare to that pain.

His hot mouth moved down my torso to the waistband of my jeans. I cringed, and I knew he could feel it. I was glad I couldn’t see the look on his face. It would break me. I tried to move away from the violation, but I was held fast to the potting table. How ironic. Potty tied to the potting table. Dudley must have thought hard about that one. His mouth was sucking hard around my navel, and it sent sick jolts through my system. I thought I might throw up. I hoped I wouldn’t; Dudley might beat me for that, and I had enough scars already.

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Dudley

I didn’t really like touching Potty like this, but he needed to feel the violation I felt. It wasn’t fair that I was the only one who had to suffer. In my anger, I sucked on his neck much harder than I needed too, and I knew it would leave a mark. I hoped Mum and Dad noticed it. Then I moved my mouth down his body to his nipples. They were already hard little nubs before I even got to them. I ignore that and suck and bite them like my captors did to me. I could tell it was hurting him by the way he gasped every time I bit down. I smiled at that.

After I finished with his nipples, I licked and sucked my way down to his belly button. My captors had spent a lot of time down there, and it made me sick. I figured he deserved to feel like that too. I nipped hard at that spot, sucking harder on the soft flesh next to it. I hoped he hated it just like I did.

At the waistband of his jeans, I nipped at the exposed flesh there. I couldn’t reach much without taking his pants off, but I wanted to save that for a bit. I moved back up his chest and licked and bit his nipples some more. I was starting to get into it. I think he was too, because the gasps started turning into moans…especially when I would lick him then blow on the wet spot.

Almost entirely on its own, my mouth continued up Potty’s body and nipped and sucked at his jaw line. He leaned into the touch, and let out a quiet moan. I started getting angry. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy it! I bit him viciously and he started to bleed. It drew a whimper from him. That made me smile.

I leaned back on my knees and I ripped his jeans open. It was time for the pain to begin. I could feel him struggling, and I hit him across the face to make him stop. It wasn’t time for him to move yet. With Potty’s pants around his ankles, I used my pocketknife to cut his skivvies off. He wouldn’t need those.

His penis was a decent size, but not as big as mine. It was trying to hide from me, I was sure. I leaned over and nipped hard at the flesh at the crease of his leg. He gasped and started whimpering more. It just brought a smile to my face. He would suffer. Then, I moved to the other crease and nipped there too. It made him whimper louder, and me smile wider.

I used a hand to grab his prick. I squeezed pretty hard, and I guess it really hurt because tears sprung to Potty’s eyes and dampened the blindfold. I laughed, and pumped my hand up and down his limp member. When I leaned down and nipped at that too, it jumped a little in my hand. That was when I learned that Potty has a thing for pain. So I bit him. Not on the prick, even I’m not that mean. But I bit his thigh, and his penis jumped up a bit more. I pinched his nipples hard, and it stood proudly at attention. The tears were coursing down his face.

I laughed again at the sight. Harry Potter’s prick was in my hand, and it was stiff, and he was crying. Suddenly, I shoved his prick in my mouth. I didn’t know why I did it—the creepy guys didn’t do that to me—but I did. He cried out as best as he could with the gag in his mouth. I decided to take some pity on him, so I cut the gag off too. Each time I stuffed him in my mouth like a bulging sausage, he cried out. After a while, it turned into pleasured moans.

I ignored that fact because I was enjoying myself too. I made my mouth into an “O” shape and I bobbed my head up and down. A clear, salty liquid was coming out of the slit at the top of his prick, and it tasted good. I wanted more of it in my mouth. So I sucked. Like a vacuum cleaner. And Harry cried out in pleasure, thrusting his hips into my mouth. I used a hand to hold him down. I slowly pulled him out of my mouth and blew my warm breath on him. He shuddered in pleasure.

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Harry

I was crying bitter tears. I hated myself so much. I was enjoying it. Each and every time Dudley engulfed me with his hot, wet mouth, I cried out in pleasure…but a little bit of me died inside. My cousin was raping me…and I enjoyed it. His hands were running over my fevered body. I was writhing beneath him. After he took off the gag, I was more vocal in my pleasure.

But something was still off. I wanted to see him. I wanted to know if he was enjoying this too. “Please…Dudley…the blindfold.” I begged him. He took it off of me carefully, and I blinked a bit to clear my vision. I could see his flushed face, his open, panting mouth, and my precum on his lips. It intoxicated me. I began thrusting up into that delicious looking mouth, wanting him to suck me off forever. He used one meaty hand to hold me down at the hips, and the other to fondle my balls. I thought I was going to die. Of pleasure.

We went on like that for a while. He was sucking on me hard. Not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to make me want to cum in his mouth. I didn’t though. It would take more than that to get me off. I think he must have known that, because soon he was trying to shove a thick finger into my arse. I cried out in pain. His finger was dry and it was aggravating my old injuries.

I gasped out, “Dudley…it needs…lubrication.” He looked shocked for a minute, then he shoved two of his large fingers into my mouth. I sucked on them like sea salt ice cream. When he thought that they were slick enough, he tried to shove one inside me again. I tensed up, afraid of how it would feel. I think that might have reminded him that I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this, because he got a mean glint in his eyes and just kept on shoving.

It hurt, really badly. His shoving caused the old, barely healed knife wounds to open up again. I cried out in pain. The blood added to Dudley’s saliva and made his finger slide into me easier. It also made his saliva burn the open cuts. Without giving me a chance to adjust or stretch with the first finger, her shoved another one inside. More of the old wounds opened again, and I screamed. It felt like I was being raped with the knives all over again.

After only a few seconds of Dudley’s rough preparation, something hard and cold was pressed against my bleeding entrance. It didn’t feel like Dudley’s prick. And that was when I remembered…the long, blunt object he had been carrying earlier. That thing was huge, and would surely rip me open anew.

I’m sure Dudley saw the fear on my face because he laughed. I was terrified. He was going to kill me with that dildo. I would be dead from blood loss by the time he was finished punishing me for something I didn’t know I did. I shuddered at that thought. I wasn’t ready to die yet. I still had to defeat Voldemort.

Dudley pulled the dildo away from my arse and I thought he had spared me. But I was wrong. He merely flipped me over on my stomach with my arse in the air, viciously twisting my arms above me, and ripped my shirt all the way off. Then he gasped. The spells must have worn off.

I had placed glamour charms on myself so that no one would ever be able to see the shame that I lived with. Dudley’s saliva-and-blood coated fingers traced the word SLAVE across my shoulders. With his other hand, he softly traced the word WHORE across my arse. I didn’t know what he would do when he saw them, but being so gentle wasn’t even a consideration.

“Potty…how did you get these?” Dudley asked me quietly. I turned my head away from him in the dirt and the tears began to fall, mixing mud beneath my face. I didn’t want to think about it again. I didn’t want to tell him that he wasn’t the only one who lost something a year ago.

Dudley spoke more firmly, “Harry, where did you get these scars?” He poked hard at the words carved into my skin. I cried out in pain, as the wounds were as fresh as they were a year ago and seeping blood.

“It doesn’t matter, Dudley. Just…just finish what you were doing so I can forget about everything.”

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Third Person

Dudley sat behind Harry and thought about things. Harry obviously didn’t want to talk about anything, but Dudley wasn’t giving up. “Harry James Potter, you better tell me how and where you got these words carved into you, or I’m gonna pound you!”

Harry wasn’t afraid of Dudley’s beating, but he was far too tired to keep hiding from his cousin’s questions. He looked down and started speaking softly. “I got them a year ago today, Dudley.”

Dudley was shocked into silence. He didn’t…he never…why? Dudley sat back on the floor with a thud, oblivious to the fact that he was then eye level with Harry’s bleeding entrance. Harry curled into himself, wincing when his abused rectum came in contact with the floor.

“Can you untie me, Dudley? Please…” Harry whispered brokenly. He hurt, everywhere, but he didn’t want Dudley to know that. He just wanted to run to the cupboard under the stairs and lock himself away for all eternity.

At his cousin’s whispered words, Dudley looked up. That was when he noticed, really noticed, all of the blood dripping out of Harry. He rocked forwards on his knees and used his pocketknife to cut the rope around Harry’s wrists. Instead of letting his younger cousin leave, he pulled him close.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t know. I thought you had abandoned me then. I thought you might have been watching, but not helping me. I never…I never imagined that they got you too. Please forgive me, Harry.” Dudley held the boy close and whispered into his hair. Harry melted into the embrace and started crying heavily. He needed the comfort after being neglected for so long. He craved it. And he didn’t even flinch when Dudley lifted his head and placed a chaste kiss to his lips.

The boys embraced each other, Harry moving so that he was straddling his older cousin, and Dudley wrapping his arms more securely around the smaller boy in his arms. They kissed desperately, passionately. Their hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Somehow, the innocent comfort Dudley was giving Harry had turned into something more heated, but when Dudley’s fingers brushed against Harry’s scars firmly, the smaller boy whimpered in pain, causing his older cousin to stop in his tracks.

“Harry, are you okay?” Dudley asked, true concern molding his facial features. The dark haired boy shuddered and merely buried his face in the flabby torso of his cousin. The pain was all too fresh and raw; he didn’t think that he’d be able to talk without sobbing uncontrollably. Dudley moved his hands to untouched flesh and began rubbing soothing circles there instead, hoping that it would calm Harry down.

Taking in deep breaths, trying to modulate his breathing enough so that he could talk, Harry said, “I think I’ll be okay, Dudley. You don’t have to hold me like this, you know. Why are you anyways? Not five minutes ago you were raping me…” The black haired boy turned his eyes away from his cousin and leaned back a little, though not actually taking himself from the other’s grasp.

Dudley shrugged and pulled Harry close again. “It doesn’t matter why I decided that you didn’t deserve me hurting you like that. Just…just be glad that I’m not anymore, okay?”

“But why? You’ve never been nice to me. Why now, when you have the perfect opportunity to make fun of me fore being a whore?”

“You’ll never be a whore. What those…arsebuckets did to us…especially to you…that doesn’t make you a whore. Harry…you’re hurt…and some of that hurt I did to you. I can’t…can’t stand to see you like this. At first, it was making me happy…because I thought that you were finally hurting like I was hurt. But now…knowing what I do…” he stopped and shuddered, looking away. “I feel like a villain.”

Harry scoffed and turned to look at Dudley, making the larger boy look at him in return. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“I didn’t care about you before.”

“And you do now?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because…you deserve it…or something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dudley blushed a little and tried to look away, but Harry’s hand on his face prevented it. “I just mean that you deserve someone to care about you. But, you probably don’t deserve me.”

“What, you too good for stupid little Potty?” Harry spit out scathingly.

“No! That…that’s not what I meant. I meant…” a sigh, “I’m no good, Harry, and you…you’re perfect. Why do you think I hated you all those years?”

Harry scoffed again, sure that he was hearing things. “Me? I’m nowhere near perfect. You, on the other hand… Sure, I guess you could lose a little weight and grow a few brain cells…but you’ve got parents, friends, everything you could ever want. What do I have? The words whore and slave carved into my body, deep knife wounds in my arse, a bloody scar on my forehead, and a rogue wizard after me, trying to kill me every year because when I was a baby my mum saved me and I happened to survive through the killing curse when no one had ever done that before and there’s some stupid prophesy about be being Voldemort’s equal and he actually believes that shite and so he wants me dead. That’s all I’ve got.”

Dudley didn’t understand that last sentence, mostly because it was all said in one breath, but he did know one thing. “Harry, you might not have parents, but I’m sure you have friends. And, I don’t have everything I could ever want. I want natural talent, people to care about me for me, and not because I can beat them up, and…now don’t tell mum or dad, but I’d love to be a wizard like you. You can do things with your stick thing…you can make people like you that way…I can only do that with my fists.”

At first, Harry was flattered by Dudley’s statement, but when the large boy started talking about making people like him with magic, Harry was turned off.

“You sound like Draco Malfoy now. Ugh.” Pushing himself up, Harry shakily stood up and winced as a sharp pain ran through his rectum and up through his back. His legs were stiff as well, making it hard for him to stand. Seeing his pain, Dudley jumped up to help him.

“Do you have a rag? I’m bleeding still, and I’d like to clean up so that there’s a chance that I can go back in the house.”

“No, sorry. How are you gonna go back anyways…you’re close are kinda…ripped.”

Harry looked around the shed and noted his torn shirt in one corner, his torn pants in another, and his shredded skivvies lying on top of the potting table. “You know, I haven’t the foggiest. Could you, maybe, go and grab me something? I can’t stay in here all night.”

Dudley looked nervous for a moment, then straightened up. “I’ll see what I can do. Mum and dad might wonder what I’m doing with some clothes when I’m heading back outside…”

“That’s all I ask. And thanks…”

“For what, raping you?”

“No, stupid, for stopping. And…for holding me while I cried.”

Grunt. “Whatever. I’ll be back as soon as I can with something.”

“Okay.”

TBC
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Change In Me