Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Dark Lord Rising	By : blade-of-the-shadows Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 16553 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters from Harry Potter, all credit goes to Rowling and I do not make any profit from this fanfic

Chapter List
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This is a Harry/Blaise/Viktor fic!
~oOo~
An abnormally small, raven-haired boy sat curled up in fetal position; his petite frame shaking with heaved, gut-wrenching sobs. He was in a cramped, pitch-black room, with only the spiders to keep him company. Unseen in the darkness, a trickle of blood coming from his body formed into a small puddle surrounding him.
If one listened closely, they could hear a song whispered from the boy’s lips, broken only by his near silent sobs:
“…’Appy…birthday…to…me…’Appy…birth…day…to…me…’Appy…birthday…dear…’Ar…ry…’ap…py…birth…day…to…me…”
Harry—as this was indeed the one Mr. Harry J. Potter—faded off, falling into a fitful asleep from his exhaustion. Off in the distance, the fading sound of a grandfather clock ringing its last tone, signaling midnight, echoed throughout the house. Unbeknownst to an unconscious young Harry, a small, gentle whirlwind of magic surrounded him, healing his wounds and reddening his cheeks. In his sleep, he smiled slightly and sighed in relief.
The next morning, he was woken abruptly by the screeching sound of his Aunt Petunia’s voice, a banging on his small door, and a following banging above his head by his fat cousin Dudley, dust and spiders falling on his head. Use to this treatment, Harry uncurled from his uncomfortable-looking position and stretched, eyes still closed.
Suddenly, those eyes snapped open, illuminant green in the darkness, and he looked down at himself in amazement. He knew for sure that his Uncle Vernon had beaten him nearly half to death yesterday, and yet he felt not even a twinge. He lifted his tatty, thin shirt and poked at his skin in disbelief, marveling at the—for once—lack of bruises covering his abdomen, healing or fresh. His Uncle Vernon preferred to hit him where it wouldn’t show, like his stomach and back, or sometimes his legs.
Someone called his name, voice rough with anger, and he quickly pulled his shirt down, pushed on his too large and incorrect glasses, and exited his confining cupboard. He braced himself to face the wrath of his Uncle Vernon’s anger as he entered the kitchen, head low and shoulders hunched, but he couldn’t help but flinch as his uncle began to scream at him.
“How many times does a person have to call you before you come, boy?! OH! Do you think that just because you turned eleven you can do as you please?!” Harry gasped as his uncle grabbed the collar of his shirt. “Well, I have something to tell you. You’re still a freak and nothing’s going to change that, so get over yourself.”
Harry was unsure about what his uncle spoke of, but he nodded his head anyway to appease the walrus-like man. Vernon Dursley was an unusual looking man; with a small bulbous head and fat body, watery blue eyes, thinning blonde hair, and a pink face. Vernon dropped him and Petunia called him to the stove.
“Finish cooking this bacon, would you.”
Harry nodded and spoke with a soft, almost melodic voice, contrasted by a harsh accent that was developed due to his poor learning of English. “Yes, Aun’ Petunia.”
His aunt raised her head, stretching her irregularly long neck, and looked down at him with her horse face before storming out, muttering something about stupid freaks living in her house. Though he knew she wasn’t serious. He realized a long time ago that Petunia could never muster up the hatred she had for her sister against him. It was simply against her nature as a mother to hate a child. And no matter what, he could not in turn hate her, not like how he hated his uncle and cousin.
Harry heard Dudley start whining about food and Petunia’s nauseating baby talk assuring his overweight cousin that the bacon would be done soon. He heaved a small sigh and stepped on his tippy-toes to handle the bacon without burning his arm; he was only just tall enough to do so without the assistance of a chair. A normal morning as always in the Dursley household.
It wasn’t until he was serving breakfast to the Dursleys when he heard the doorbell ring. His Uncle Vernon glared at him and demanded him to go open the door. Harry flinched and scuttled off to answer it quickly. He opened it to reveal two strangely dressed people; a severe looking woman with black hair tied in a tight bun and tortoiseshell glasses, and a tall man also with black hair, and dark eyes to match, with an expression so cold, Harry felt the need to shiver.
He straightened and tried to look as tidy as possible in his awfully large shirt and trousers, too many sizes too big and stained from too poor and too few washings. “Yes? ‘Ow may I ‘elp ya?”
The woman blinked in shock, leaning forward and looking over her spectacles to take a better look at him. She took in his underdeveloped, malnourished frame, his poorly dressed attire, and his eyes, dark with fear and weary acceptance. Her lips parted in a silent gasp and she turned to the man beside her.
“Severus…” The man—Severus, Harry now knew—regarded him without a change in his expression, but his dark eyes were alight with Harry could only guess was anger. He wasn’t sure why, but he did know that if these people didn’t leave soon, his Uncle Vernon would be very mad.
He cleared his throat. “S’cuse me…Was there somethin’ that ya needed?”
The woman returned her shock gaze to him and opened her mouth to speak, but just then Vernon screamed from the breakfast nook.
“Boy! What on Earth is taking you so long?! Get yer ass back in here and finish serving breakfast!”
Harry gasped and looked with horror widened eyes at the strangers at the door. “I’m sorry. Could ya possibly come back later with whateva business ya ‘ave? I—I’m so sorry.” He closed the door shut and ran back to finish serving the Dursleys before his uncle got really mad.
The woman and Severus glanced at each other, the woman with her lips tightened into a thin white angry line, and Severus only showing his anger through the fractional tightening around his eyes. Together they turned away and began to walk away from number 4 Privet Drive. They walked in silence for a short while, until Severus spoke.
“Minerva…we must get him away from there.”
The woman, Minerva, nodded vigorously. “Yes, but where will we take him? Severus, Albus had to have known how Harry is living. Is it possible that the Headmaster simply…doesn’t care? By the way he ever spoke of Harry, I assumed that his main goal was to turn the child into a weapon, and I would not have allowed that anyway, but this…”
“I know.” Severus glowered at nothing in particular. “I think…I have an idea where we can leave him. A good friend of mine who will take Harry as his own and not pamper him either, but mainly because Albus would never guess there.”
Minerva’s eyes widened with realization. “Do you think? But isn’t he…?”
“I know where his loyalties lie and once we tell him what we have seen…I’m sure he will feel the same in tenfold. He has a son of his own and would kill anyone who even thought of treating the kid that way.” Severus nodded with finality. “Yes, he will do.”
Minerva bit her lip, her views on the man overrode with her concern for Harry’s safety. “We will return at nightfall, then, and take Harry away from that horrid place. I only hope he comes peacefully.” Severus nodded in agreement.
Back at the Dursely’s, sometime in the early evening, after slaving away cleaning up nothing, Harry could be found in the kitchen preparing dinner. With two people in the family who ate enough to feed five men, each, it always took Harry hours to prepare a sufficient enough meal to feed Vernon and Dudley without complaint. Harry could only be thankful that Petunia was not the same, in fact, the woman ate only twice as much as Harry did, which wasn’t a great lot. And luckily the dinners were so enormous that Harry could get away with stealing a small bit of something without getting caught every once in a while.
Dinner completed and served, Harry waited patiently, as he did every day, for the Durselys to finish their meal and for Vernon to contemplate on whether or not Harry was good enough for the day to deserve a meal. He held back a small smile at his Uncle Vernon’s look of satisfaction, which usually meant that he could possibly have a piece of meat with his bread and water.
“Alright boy. After you clean this up you may have your dinner. Petunia, give him a small slice of ham with his bread would you? When you’re done with your dinner, serve me my tea so that I can go to bed, boy.” Vernon stood and Harry nodded.
“Yes, Uncle Vernon. Earl Grey tonigh’?”
His uncle Vernon thought for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I’ll be in the living room watching the evening news.”
Aunt Petunia kissed Uncle Vernon on the cheek and turned to Dudley. “Go get ready for bed, Duddykins.”
Dudley’s face went red. “I don’t want to go to bed! I want to watch T.V.”
“Okay, dear. One hour, then bed time okay?”
“Two hours!”
“Alright, my darling, now go.”
Dudley waddle away and Harry gathered all the plates and bowls before hurrying into the kitchen. As Aunt Petunia bustled around behind him, Harry quickly washed all the dishes, leaving them spotless and shining. He learned how to do it so quickly and sufficiently by years and years of practice, the same with his cooking skills. He finished and turned around to see Aunt Petunia leaving, and no the counter was a plate with a slice of bread and two huge slices of ham on top, a full glass of milk beside it. Harry’s face lit up with a huge grin and he quickly rushed to the food, eating all of it quickly as if Uncle Vernon would come in and take his plate away. He washed the glass and plate and quickly made Uncle Vernon’s tea.
The walrus of a man was lounging in his usual chair in the living room when Harry entered with his tea and crackers. Uncle Vernon barely spared him a glance. “Good boy. Now go into your cupboard and go to sleep.”
Though Harry wasn’t sleepy in the least, he did as he was told and entered his cupboard, curling under a thin baby blanket on his small, darkly blood-stained cot and closing his eyes. A few minutes later he heard his Uncle Vernon’s thundering footsteps go up the stairs and a while after that he heard Dudley whining and crying about having to go to bed. A few hours later, Harry was finally drifting off to sleep when a pretty silvery-white light filled his room.
Curious as to what it was—something like this never happened before—Harry sat up and gasped at the pretty silver cat sitting at the foot of his cot. The cat approached him and rubbed against his body, purring softly. Over the purring of the cat, Harry heard a voice fill his cupboard.
“Harry…follow the cat.” Said cat stopped purring and jumped off the cot, waiting patiently for him to do the same.
Curious as to what was going on, Harry climbed out of the bed and donned his glasses. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the cat was moving, body disappearing straight through the door. Harry scrambled to follow, opening the door just in time to see the cat vanish out the front door. He felt slight trepidation about opening the front door—he wasn’t supposed to open it unless his Uncle Vernon told him to—but soon curiosity overruled and he opened the door as quietly as possible.
Once again, the door opened to reveal a man and woman, the same ones as before in fact, and the pretty cat no longer there. Harry gasped and quickly closed the door behind him, wrapping his oversized shirt around his body tighter against the cold night air.
“What are ya doin’ ‘ere? When I said come back later, I didn’ mean this late.” His fear for these strange people loosened his tongue and he lost his polite mannerisms. He glanced frightfully at the window above, leading to the master bedroom where Vernon and Petunia slept, and lowered his voice. “If ma Uncle Vernon wakes up—.”
“Harry, would you like to get away from this place?” The woman said, leaning down to meet Harry’s gaze.
His eyes widened and his mouth gaped. “L-leave? B-but ‘ow? I’ve—.”
“We are going to take you with us.” The cold man, Harry remembered that the woman had called him Severus, drawled. The man stepped forward and knelt in front of Harry. “We are going to take you to someone who will not harm you; who will give you clothes that fit and so much food that you will feel as if you to combust. Would you like that Harry?”
Harry hesitated. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Severus—the man might’ve looked mean and cold but he spoke to Harry with a warm voice—but there was one thing Harry wanted that the Dursleys never gave him. Ever.
“Will they…will they…love me?” He swallowed and braced himself for the answer, sure that the man would say no. No one wanted a freak, anyway.
“Of course.” Harry looked up in shock and saw Severus’ expression matching his own. He had the inkling feeling that the man’s demeanor didn’t slip that often and that Harry truly surprised him with his question. “Of course, they will, Harry. Why wouldn’t they?”
“Becuz…” Harry’s voice dropped to a mere whisper and he bowed his head in shame. “It’s becuz I am a freak.”
Severus suddenly grabbed his arms and Harry looked up to see his dark eyes once again alight with anger, black fire swirling within his irises. “Harry, you are not a freak. Do not believe anything those people told you. They are sick, twisted, evil people and I do not understand how Albus could bear knowing you were treated like this.” The last part was a mutter not directed at Harry, but he responded anyways.
“Albus? Who is that?”
“Albus Dumbledore; a man I once thought great and wise, but now I believe I see his true colors.” Severus looked up at him. “Will you come with us, Harry? We cannot delay much longer.”
Harry didn’t have to think about it before he was nodding his head eagerly. The Dursleys treated him like crap and if he had a chance with staying with a family who would actually love him, who was he to deny that opportunity? The woman clapped her hands together and Severus stood.
“Proper introductions are in place, then.” She smiled at him. “Harry, I am Minerva McGonagall, a professor at Hogwarts.”
Harry blinked. “Yer a teacher?”
“Yes, and so is Severus.” She elbowed said man.
Severus scowled at her, but softened his expression when he looked at Harry. “I am Severus Snape, Potions Master, as well as a professor at Hogwarts.”
Harry nodded. “I am ‘Arry Potter, but I think ya already know that, doncha?”
Minerva smiled. “Yes. Now it’s time to go, Harry.”
With nothing in his possession but the clothes on his back—and even those were hand-me-downs—Harry was ready to go. He looked around for a car and frowned when he didn’t see one. He looked up at Minerva inquiringly.
“Wait, ‘ow are we leavin’? I don’ see no car. Are we takin’ the bus or train?”
Minerva smiled and held out her hand. “Hold my hand, tightly now—there you go.”
As soon as he had a tight grasp on her hand, Harry felt a sharp tug around his navel and a weird sensation of his body being pulled and squeezed and ripped apart. Suddenly his feet hit solid ground and his knees buckled, making him fall to the ground. It was hard for him to breath; he took slow shaky breaths, just like he did when Vernon broke one of his ribs once.
Minerva helped him up when he had his breath back, but he only lost it again once his eyes laid upon the giant, magnificent mansion in front of him. It was pure white and enormous, with at least three or four stories and balconies and everything. Something flashed in his peripheral and Harry gasped at the sight of a pure white peacock walking leisurely across the lawn. He turned around to look at Severus, who had been watching his reaction with faint amusement.
“I’m…goin’ to live here?”
Severus nodded. “You will have your own, vast sized room to yourself.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “I’ll have a big room?”
Severus pursed his lips at his vocabulary but nodded an affirmative. Suddenly, the front door to the manor opened and out stepped a tall man with hair so blonde it was nearly white, and even glinted silver in the moonlight, and silvery blue eyes. He clearly had the build of a rather muscled man, with broad shoulders and a slightly wide chest, but carried a grace and ease of someone much more elegant and feminine. Harry gasped and slipped behind Severus, grabbing the trousers of the man in his fist. Severus ignored him and greeted the blonde as the man approached.
“Lucius. I take it your day as been well?”
The man, Lucius, stopped and arched an elegant brow at Severus. “Save the pleasantries, Severus. What are you doing intruding on my property at near midnight?”
Severus put a hand on Harry’s back and pushed him gently, but firmly. Harry resisted slightly, eyes on the blonde man. Lucius’ eyes landed on him and his other brow joined the first.
“Severus, is this who I think—?”
“We need you to take him in, Lucius.” Lucius turned to look at Minerva as she spoke.
“A Griffindor on Slytherin territory.” He smirked playfully. “How daring.”
Minerva stuck her tongue out at him childishly, and Severus interrupted before the tow could start into their usual bantering. “Lucius, can we please take this inside? The boy is wearing rags unfit for an urchin on the street.”
Lucius frowned a bit, eyes scanning Harry’s attire, and turned away, walking towards the manor. Severus moved forward, limping slightly as Harry wouldn’t release his leg. Harry wasn’t afraid of Lucius; he just didn’t know how to act around a man who could possibly take him into his home and feed and clothe him…and even possibly love him. Lucius led them to a sitting room where a fire was already roaring in the fireplace, crackling and dancing happily. Harry still wouldn’t let go, therefore forcing Severus to take the couch, while Minerva and Lucius sat in armchairs.
“May I please have an explanation now, Severus?”
“It is fairly simple, and yet it completely disgusts me.” Severus’ jaw clenched. “You see what he wears, Lucius; these are all the clothes he has in his possession, all his guardians allowed him to have. Look at him; he is completely malnourished and unusually small for his age.” He leaned forward, fists tightening in anger. “I suspect he was being abused. He called himself a freak, Lucius.”
Lucius’ eyes widened and he turned to look at Harry. “Is this true, Harry?”
Only slightly surprised that the man knew his name, Harry swallowed and straightened. “It’s what ma Uncle Vernon and ma cousin Dudley call me, sir. When I was younger, I thought it was ma name until I began grade school, sir.”
Lucius grew paler than his already fair complexion, eyes darkening more blue than silver in his anger. “And these…people…are your guardians?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, sir. I was told to cook and clean everyday and if I did good I got to eat dinner, but if I did bad, like burn somethin’ while cookin’ or miss a spot when cleanin’, I would get little-to-no dinner and Uncle Vernon would beat me, sir.” He shrugged carelessly, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, sometimes ‘e would beat me anyway. ‘E said it was to get the freak outta me, sir.”
Beside him, Severus was extremely tense with anger and Minerva was crying softly in her chair. Lucius stood, his expression cold and scary. Harry briefly wondered if he said too much, if the man thought that him being a freak would make him not take Harry in.
“Severus, I think we need to pay these despicable people a…visit.”
“I agree, Lucius, but first we must discuss Harry—.”
“Does Dumbledore know about this?”
Minerva sniffed and straightened in her chair. “We believe so. The whole reason we went to Harry’s house in the first place was because his Hogwarts letter was addressed to the ‘Cupboard Under the Stairs’.”
“He lived in a cupboard?!” At this point, Lucius was beyond livid. Though he was still paler than usual, his cheeks were flushed with anger and his whole body vibrated with tension.
It touched Harry to know that someone cared so much about his well-being and he began to cry. Almost immediately, Lucius was kneeling in front of him, taking his hands. His expression held no more anger, but was lined with worry.
“Harry? Did I scare you? I am sorry; I am not angry with you.”
Harry shook his head, unable to speak between his sobs, and threw himself into Lucius’ arms. The blonde was frozen in shock for a split-second, but he quickly wrapped his arms around Harry and lifted the boy into his embrace. Harry, even as he cried, marveled at the warmth of being in Lucius arms. It was something he never felt before and the revelation only made him cry harder. Lucius held him in his arms patiently, slightly rocking him until his sobs subsided and he could only bury his face into the conjunction between Lucius’ neck and shoulders with embarrassment.
“Harry? Are you okay now?” Harry nodded, now feeling rather worn out from the long day. He tightened his grip on Lucius and fell asleep, sighing softly.
Lucius looked at the tear-stained, sleeping face. Harry’s dark rat-nest he called hair was shifted just so that a small, lightning bolt shaped scar showed on his forehead. His face was pale and his cheeks hollow and in Lucius’ arms, the boy felt lighter than a feather, his bones sticking out everywhere. Lucius looked away from Harry’s face to Severus.
“I would hope that your plan was to leave him with me, because I am taking him either way.”
Severus smirked and nodded. “That was the plan, yes.” He stood, Minerva mimicking the action. “Our job now done, we will take our leave. I will more than likely visit later this week to see how he is doing.” His expression became serious. “Lucius, you have to be careful of triggers. More than likely, Harry will be traumatized by this; anything can make him snap. Just be glad that all of your rooms are about the size of a small house, or else you would never get him to be still; he probably has claustrophobia. And watch him—he might start cleaning or cooking or anything else he did at that revolting place.”
Lucius nodded. “He will be fine. With Draco around, he will never have enough time to feel that way.”
Severus smiled and, with one lingering glance at Harry, exited the room. Minerva followed closely behind him, assured that he knew the way out.
“Severus, are you sure he will be safe here?” She—not in the least worried about Lucius less than golden reputation, but rather Harry’s well being in general—asked.
“He will be fine. I know you saw just as well as I did how much care he has already put into Harry. The kid fell asleep in his arms.”
Minerva looked into the distance worriedly. “If you say so…” They apparated back to Hogwarts.
Back in the Manor, Lucius carefully carried Harry to one of the guest rooms. For now, Harry would have to stay in one until one of the house elves prepared a proper room for him. As Lucius placed Harry into the bed, the boy reached out and grabbed his hand in a tight grip before slowly releasing it with a soft sigh. Lucius smiled softly and tucked Harry in, making sure he was completely covered, before leaving, closing the door softly behind him.
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Dark Lord Rising