Shattered Souls Chapter One

Title: Shattered Souls Chapter One
Author: Eriador117
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Snape
Beta: Amanda Saitou

Archive: Part of the From Dusk till Dawn Severus Snape/Harry Potter Fuh-Q-Fest at http://www.kardasi.com/HPSS/storyindex.htm
Challenge: for Wave VII: No Man is an Island
(Also used a challenge from Wave I, Snape has always looked at Harry as the 'Boy Who Gets Whatever He Wants' but finds out that the Dursleys are actually abusing him. He offers to take care of Harry, but what he feels isn't appropriate for a Legal Guardian.) (Kira)

Summary: Snape and Harry have more in common than they would like to think. When they are forced to be married and bonded in order to keep Harry safe from the Dursleys, will Snape be able to help Harry come to terms with his demons without falling under the spell of his own?

Warnings: Rape, torture, child abuse, non-con situations, eating disorder, suicidal mentions, depression, post traumatic stress, and lots of angst. Did I mention there was angst? Slight chan at the beginning (Harry is a few days shy of his sixteenth birthday when the story starts.)



Chapter One

Harry had never been alone in the house with his uncle until now. Always before, his aunt and cousin had been a buffer between the two of them. But now that they were alone, Harry could actually feel the hatred radiating from the man, hatred at what he saw as Harry’s condition. Harry’s abnormality. Harry could do magic and there was nothing so frightening and alien to Vernon Dursley than that.

The hairs on the back of Harry’s neck were standing on end. Vernon was watching him again, while at the same time pretending he wasn’t. Harry tried to concentrate on just washing the breakfast dishes which were in the sink. But he knew it was only a matter of time before it happened again. Vernon had never left him alone for so long before. The bruises from their last encounter still hadn’t healed.

There was a dishwasher, but Harry wasn’t allowed to use it. He wasn’t allowed to use anything electrical in case he would contaminate it. Harry wondered where the Dursleys got their strange ideas about magic from. It wasn’t contagious as far as he knew. He rinsed the soap bubbles off and set the plates in the drying rack. A few more days. A few more days and his aunt would be back.

He never thought he’d see the day when he would look forward to seeing Petunia, but something had to happen. A few more days and then this strange tension between himself and his uncle would dissipate.

Even before his aunt and cousin had left on their trip, Vernon had been acting weird around Harry, snapping at him for the littlest thing and squinting at him as though Harry were a bug under a microscope. Harry didn’t even need to see his uncle to know when he was being stared at. The goose bumps on his skin were warning enough. Harry didn’t know why his uncle had started this strange game and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Once the last plate was dried and put in the cupboard, Harry jumped when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.</p>

“Harry,” said his uncle and alarm bells began to ring in Harry’s head. His uncle rarely used his name. Usually he was called ‘boy’ or more often just ‘you’. “What age are you now, boy?” asked Vernon, as though he didn’t know. Harry was just as sure that Vernon did know, counting up the years that they had to bring up the ‘ungrateful brat’, another of his uncle’s wonderful endearments.

“I’m not a boy!” snapped Harry. “I’m sixteen in two days.”

“Yes,” agreed Vernon with a strange glitter in his eyes. “Hardly a boy anymore, are you?” Vernon stroked his chin absently as if thinking of something else. “But you’re not yet a man, so you have to do what I say. This is my house and you will obey my rules. On your knees boy!” Vernon’s nails dug into Harry’s shoulder as he was forcibly pushed almost to the ground. Harry guessed there would be marks there later.

“What?” gasped Harry as he tried to stop his uncle from pushing him even further down.</p>

“You heard me,” said Vernon, using his weight and bulk to push Harry right down to the floor. The tiles dug into his knees even through the jeans. Harry wobbled, off balance with Vernon holding onto one shoulder.

“Now, undo my trousers.”

Harry gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. He couldn’t have just heard what he thought he heard. This was some weird dream he was having, right? It could not possibly be real. But the sharp fingernails digging into his flesh were real enough, as was the door handle on the cupboard pressing against his back when Vernon pushed him roughly against it. Harry struggled to get up, but he was no match for Vernon’s size and just the sheer mass of the man. It was like trying to move a mountain.

“You will do as I say, boy!” Vernon used his free hand to slap Harry across the cheek. Harry’s cheek stung but he wouldn’t give Vernon the satisfaction of crying out. “Or you might just find that bloody bird of yours can no longer fly! Very delicate, bird wings. Very…breakable,” Vernon cupped Harry’s chin in his hand and made him look up.

“You can’t do that!” roared Harry, his heart thudding so wildly in his chest he was amazed that it hadn’t somehow burst through and escaped his flesh. Threats to himself he could handle. He’d had plenty of practice after all. He couldn’t let Vernon do anything to harm Hedwig, though.

“Oh, can’t I?” asked Vernon silkily. “You’d be surprised at what I can do when I put my mind to it. Now, open my trousers and get to work. It’s time you started paying us back for all we’ve done for you. Do it!” Vernon yanked Harry’s head up by the hair. Harry yelped, more in surprise than pain.</p>

His face was burning with shame as he unbuckled Vernon’s belt. His hands shook as he started on the zip, already a task made difficult by Vernon’s erection straining at the fabric, blue polyester trousers that made his hands itch. Harry’s stomach was coiling itself in knots and he swayed a little on the tiles. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, that he was letting Vernon do this to him. He should never have let them take his wand at the start of the summer holidays. He should have hidden it better. This was worse, much worse than what Vernon usually did.</p>

Harry lowered the zip and looked away from Vernon’s groin. “Pull them down, boy,” instructed Vernon. Harry did as he was told, pulling the trousers all the way down past Vernon’s knees, shuddering as he did so. Harry felt faint and tried to will himself into unconsciousness.</p>

“Now, use your mouth,” commanded Vernon.

“What?” asked Harry stupidly.

“Are you really that naïve, boy? Don’t you know how to give a blow-job? I’m sure you’ve had plenty of practice at that freaky school, haven’t you? Do you beg for it? Are you their little slut, Harry? Time to show me what you’ve learned.”</p>

Harry shook his head, silent tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Please, uncle Vernon. Please don’t do this.” But pleas to Vernon had never worked before and they wouldn't work now.</p>

“Stop your snivelling, boy! If you get snot all over me I’ll give you something to cry about! All you have to do is suck it. Go on, do it!” Vernon pulled Harry’s head close to his groin and held him there. There was no escape, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to do what his uncle wanted. He kept his mouth resolutely shut and thought that would be the end of it.</p>

But no, Vernon had other tricks. He didn’t need magic. Vernon used his free hand, the one not holding Harry’s head, to pinch Harry’s nostrils shut. Harry couldn’t breathe and he had to open his mouth and Vernon used the opportunity to thrust between Harry’s lips.</p>

The taste and the strange feel of it made him gag and Harry tried to pull away, but Vernon had both hands on his head now, holding him in place. Harry knew that what was happening wasn’t his choice, that he hadn’t wanted it. It was something that was being taken from him, not given. But on some level he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his fault? Had he done something to inadvertently lead Vernon on?

The thrusting in his mouth stopped and Vernon pulled his head away. Harry took a deep breath, curious as to why his ordeal had ended so soon, but relieved all the same. His relief was short lived. Vernon lunged at Harry, toppling them both to the floor. Harry banged his head against the cupboard and the pain was so intense he almost blacked out. Spots were dancing in front of his eyes and he wasn’t sure he could move.

Vernon was sitting astride his thighs, staring at him like a cat would a mouse. A predator stalking his prey. Harry felt almost naked beneath that gaze and he tried to look away. Vernon had hold of his head again and it was an impossible task.</p>

“Oh no, you don’t! You’re going to look at me and you’re going to know that it was me who took your innocence away.” Vernon’s hands left Harry’s face and began to fumble with the fastenings of Harry’s jeans.</p>

“NO!” screamed Harry, trying to buck his hips and away from Vernon’s prying fingers, but it was no use. Vernon was far too heavy and Harry couldn’t move his lower body at all. His legs were going numb. If only he had his wand! It was all so surreal. He was about to be raped on the kitchen floor with sunshine streaming in the window and birds singing outside. A perfect summer day.

“NO! I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS!”

“Oh? And how are you going to stop me?”

Harry didn’t know how. He just knew that he wasn’t going to lie here and let this happen to him. He’d put up with being starved, being beaten, being locked in a cupboard, but he would not put up with this. His virginity was something that belonged to him, something he wanted to give to someone special when the time came. It was his to give and a short, fat uncle was not going to take it from him by force.

“Well?” taunted Vernon. “You can’t do magic without your wand!” Vernon crowed triumphantly as he finally managed to undo Harry’s belt buckle. A wave of despair washed over Harry at his uncle’s words, for they were true. His wand was locked away as were all of his school things. He glared defiantly at his uncle.</p>

“What about Aunt Marge? And the snake at the zoo?” asked Harry and felt a surge of power when he saw Vernon pale. Harry had used wandless magic before and Vernon knew it. Harry remembered how angry he had been both times. So angry in fact, that things happened without his control.</p>

Could he control his anger? Funnel it towards Vernon? Harry concentrated hard, thinking of everything Vernon had ever done to him, channeling all his anger at the fat man perched now on his chest, squeezing the breath from Harry. “Lumos!” panted Harry and watched Vernon’s eyes widen in fear as all the lights in the kitchen flickered in and out of existence.

Vernon shuffled his body forwards, his bobbing erection poking Harry in the cheek and leaving a damp trail.</p>

“I don’t care what fancy tricks you can do with the lights,” said Vernon, although Harry thought he still looked a bit fearful. “You’re going to suck me off until I come and then you will swallow every mouthful, like the little whore you are. And after that your skinny arse is going to get some use. Do you hear me?” Vernon slapped him again but didn’t bother waiting for an answer, just pushed his engorged cock so far down Harry’s throat that he almost choked.

He could hardly breathe and the musky smell was making him feel sick. Vernon’s thrusts were erratic and Harry had no chance of timing his breathing to the rhythm. Harry didn’t suck, didn’t lick, his mouth was just a receptacle. Vernon was raping his mouth, that’s what it felt like. That’s what it was, for Harry had not agreed to this. Harry’s stomach was doing flip-flops and he was getting increasingly light-headed due to lack of air. Maybe if he did faint, the torment would be over sooner. But no, he dreaded to think what Vernon might do to his unconscious body.

Harry’s whole body was tense, his throat raw and aching. He lifted his arms in a futile attempt to push Vernon away from him. Vernon moved and pain flared in Harry’s chest, he thought he’d heard a rib crack. Harry would have screamed if he wasn’t effectively gagged by Vernon thrusting into his throat. The light was fading. Everything was growing dark and he was dimly aware of speeded thrusts and his uncle’s growl of triumph before he was welcomed into blackness.

The blessed oblivion didn’t last long. He stirred, finding himself being repeatedly slapped harshly around the face. His whole face was throbbing.

“Don’t think you’ll get out of it that easily, boy,” said his uncle, looming over him. “Stand up!”

Even though Vernon was no longer sitting on his chest, it still hurt to breathe. Harry was almost sure now that he’d broken a rib. Harry stood up on legs as shaky as a new born kitten. He grabbed the breakfast bar for support. Bitter salt burned the back of his throat and he gagged, remembering what it was. He found enough strength to make it to the sink before he threw up. He retched until there was nothing left except sour spittle. The stainless steel was stainless no longer. He turned on the tap to rinse the vomit away and then stuck his mouth under the tap, not bothering with a cup or glass.

“You’re disgusting!” snapped Vernon. “Nothing but a filthy brat! Sex is all you’re good for, Harry Potter. Harry Potter the whore, just like that bitch of a mother!”

It all happened so fast, that Harry wasn’t even sure what he’d done. He just knew that one minute he was listening to Vernon berate his family and the next he saw red. Literally. Blood was pouring out of the tap now, thick with a distinct smell of copper and Vernon was no longer talking.

Harry turned and saw Vernon foaming at the mouth, eyes bulging out of their sockets. He looked like a toad that was about to explode. He clawed at his collar as though choking. He gurgled something that might have been “help me” or “stop” or some other such entreaty.

For an instant, Harry felt the power surging through his whole body. He didn’t just do magic. He was magic. He knew that Vernon’s life was in his hands and only his. He could let his tormentor die. It would be so easy, so very easy. Just to let the pressure on Vernon’s windpipe increase would be but a second’s worth of work for his mind.

“Finite Incantatem,” Harry watched with horror as his uncle slumped to the ground. Unconscious, but not dead. He had almost killed him. Harry had almost become a cold blooded killer. No, he would not do it. He had made the right choice, hadn’t he?

Harry was no dark wizard to take pleasure in death, but as he watched his uncle, he wondered.

TBC