Warning: This Fic will eventually have some kind of Slash (Male/Male) relationship. There is some non-consentual sex and there will be other such instances of sexual content. Also there will be Self harm in this fic. I warn of this because it may be triggering for those who have struggled with such things. Also, there is mention of abuse, both emotional and physical.
Adflicto Diligo (Damaged Love)
Harry was in a heap on the cot in his bedroom at Number 4 Privet drive. The lacerations running along his back were still trickling blood onto his stained mattress. His right arm was twisted into an unnatural angle. The 16 year old had been there for hours, to weak to move in too much pain to even think about anything at all. Hope seemed all but lost at that moment.
He was broken. Nothing and no one could convince him he would ever feel safe again. That the pain would ever stop. The Dursley's had finally accomplished what they had been striving for since they first saw him on their doorstep. He would no longer disobey, no longer talk back, no longer use his magic, it only ever caused him grief.
The Dark Lord, Voldemort, was seething with rage. The Order of the Phoenix had once again thwarted another of his plans nearly killing two of his Deatheaters, which were not as plentiful as they once had been. Fuming and pacing his office an idea struck himwhy not take his frustrations out on the one child that was destined to destroy him. The very symbol of hope Dumbledore and his followers had. Sitting at his desk he willed the link between himself and The-Boy-Who-Lived to open.
Before he was able to send a single image or feeling of the recent torture he had bestowed upon another mudblood and their family, there was a frantic screaming in his mind.
I want this to stop! Please someone make it stop.
Voldemort winced knowing perfectly well it was Potter but unable to reconcile that with the the images he was seeing. These things were Far more like his own childhood than the one the savior was sure to have. Even worse given that the people that were caring for the boy were of the same blood. Would you wish to die? Voldemort asked in a subdued tone. He had to handle this situation delicately if he wanted the best outcome.
I have nothing, no one. Everyone thinks I am something I am not. I am not a murderer. I don't want to kill. So they left me here where everything hurts. I just want the pain to stop. The boys voice was frantic and crazed. Random images of beating and the emotions associated with them bombarded Voldemort's mind. If he'd been anyone else he was sure they'd be quivering with disgust and pity. He wasn't just any one though, he'd done worse to people himself, though never a child.
A plan was developing in the Dark Lords mind as he watched. He would not let this opportunity pass him by. Would you like to leave that place? Would you like to come with me?
Anywhere would be better than here. The small defeated voice said.
The Dark Lord smirked. I need you to tell me where you are. Then I will be able to send someone to come and collect you.
Yes. Anything to be rid of them. Even if you kill me. That would be better than this...
Darkness engulfed Privet Drive as four masked and cloaked figures appeared on the deserted street. The leader of the small group raised his wand and gestured to one of the houses, which looked disturbingly like all the others on the street, and they marched as one toward the door. The wards on the home flowed around them as they stepped up to the door. Feeling like a heavy weight on their shoulders as the almost living magic searched for their intent. The wards slacken when the magic found they meant no harm to the wizard inside.
The Deatheater closest to the door unlocked it with a simple spell. It swung open silently to reveal a darkened hallway and staircase. A wave of a hand and two of the cloaked figures proceeded to secure the main floor. The other two went up the stairs to see a door with no fewer than six locks on a bedroom door and a cat flap at the bottom. They blasted it open when pained sobs drew them out of their shock. The sight that greeted them on the other side was horrific.
Harry Potter lay on a small bed only half conscious. Cuts and welts peaking through his threadbare, overlarge, clothing. Some of the wounds obviously infected and weeping. The smell of the unwashed teen and infected flesh made even two seasoned Deatheaters retch.
The boy stirred and he looked into the white masks of the new arrivals. Harry tried to sit up, but failed almost landing on the floor before one of the Deatheaters ran to the side of the bed to catch him. The boys breathing was coming out in labored little pants. "We have to get him out of here, Severus."
Harry thought he recognized the voice through his feverish haze but couldn't be sure. The Deatheater that had been at the door walked up to Harry and looked overhis too thin frame. Harry looked up into the dark penetrating gaze of Severus Snape behind his white mask and blinked in confusion. Without a word Severus pulled out a small locket from around his neck. Placing it into Harry's hand, holding on tightly to both as they were swept away to an unknown location.
Harry was unconscious when they arrived just outside the gates of Malfoy Manor.
Harry felt magic around him. The hum of it calming his frantic mind in places that had not been silent in more than six months. He felt his wounds knitting together as the magic caressed his skin. It felt warm and viscous, like he imagined liquid sunlight must feel. He never wanted to wake again if he could just feel that forever.
The voice was familiar but Harry couldn't place it. It was the same as from his bedroom. "Hmmm," Harry murmured curling into the pillow below him.
"Are you awake?" The voice was overly formal, refined in a way that Harry knew he would never be.
"Yes," Harry opened his emerald eyes to find silvery gray. Lucius Malfoy was kneeling next to the couch Harry was on, his face only a few inches away. Harry panicked.
Harry was instantly up from the couch, despite his still aching body and dislocated arm. He scrambled away hastily until he was up against the wall farthest away from the fire that was situated in front of the couch. Harry cowered in the dark corner between a chair and bookshelf. Muttering "Shouldn't run. Shouldn't hide. Makes it worse. So much worse."
"Hush, child," Lucius' voice was soft and surprisingly gentle "I will not harm you."
Harry shook his head violently and tried to make himself seem as small as possible. Harry started to sob as Lucius placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. "Come back to the sofa Mr. Potter. I'll give you a potion to help you sleep and take away the pain," Not knowing what the punishment would be for non-compliance the teen acquiesced but never once looked up from the floor and was still trembling, cradling his injured arm as best he could, as he returned to the overstuffed sofa.
After Lucius handed him the potions, and confirmed Harry was slumbering deeply; he exited, gave instructions to the door guard, and proceeded to The Dark Lords study.
"My Lord," Lucius said pouring all his reverence and awe for his master into his words.
"Have you news for me, Lucius?" The Dark Lords glowing red eyes focused on his loyal servant from over the book he had been pursuing.
"Yes, My Lord. About the Potter boy."
"Sit with us then and tell us of Potter and his condition," The Dark Lord gestured to the high backed armchair that sat next to Severus Snape, whom Lucius had not noticed before that moment. As Lucius stood he began his report.
"My Lord. The boy will recover from most of his injuries within a few days. The malnutrition will be rectified in no less than a month if he is given the proper treatment. But," Lucius sat down and crossed his legs gracefully as his voice took on a note of concern "He is mentally unstable. As soon as he awoke and saw me he yelped and was in the corner of the room, in the fetal position, within seconds. Which in and of itself was not all that unusual considering I work for his enemy, but that doesn't explain the things he said," Lucius clasped his hands together in front of him, trying to alleviate the urge to strangle something. "I have see this behavior before, My Lord. As I am sure Severus has as well, in the Half-Bloods and Muggleborns at Hogwarts. Your assumptions on his mental condition were quite accurate."
Severus sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of this nose "What was Albus thinking leaving his supposed savior with those muggles! I can't believe Potter ended up in Gryffindore with all that he seems to have gone through."
"Dumbledore obviously wanted his little weapon obedient so he would be able to manipulate him freely. There is no telling the extent the old man has gone to with Potter," The Dark Lord interjected steeping his long spider like fingers as he reclined further back in his armchair. "I think we should let Potter rest as much as possible and limit his contact to one person at a time. Rotating the shifts every couple of hours so that he gets used to the idea of being around each of us. We must be sure to show him what positive physical affection can feel like. Light touches, lingering caresses, and the like. We need him to feel comfortable. Once he is able to trust us we may be able to convert him to our side if not keep him neutral to the entire war."
The trio talked for many hours into the night, discussing Harry and their future plans for the Boy Savior, until Severus bid his leave to the guest room to take up his shift with the broken child.
Harry woke this time on his own to the sun slitting in through midnight blue velvet drapes. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he sat up. "Ah...I see our guest has awoken once again," Severus commented, as he placed the book he had been reading onto his lap.
Harry looked at Snape for a moment before scooting himself as far away as he could on the couch and hugging his stomach. He felt very exposed while wearing his hand-me-down clothes in front of his Professor.
"I assure you that you are safe here, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled in his usual tone. the familiarity of it comforted Harry some he felt himself relaxing with each word spoken. "Now, I need to check your injuries to be sure they are healing properly. Could you hand me your wrist please?"
Harry tensed in fear. But, fearing worse if he did not comply, held out his right arm which was shaking. Snape stood and gently took the proffered hand. Harry flinched.
Snape waved his wand and muttered a diagnostic charm that Harry recognized form his multiple trips to the hospital wing. Snape still held his wrist and gently rubbed his thumb along the pulse point while he looked at the results. The touch felt very intimate and had Harry flushing with embarrassment at thinking that Snape would be touching him in any positive fashion. After a moment longer than the charm lasted Snape released him. Harry immediately returned it to his left side hugging himself tightly.
"Seems like everything is healing fine. But I need you to take this nutritive potion and eat some dinner," Severus said handing Harry a small vial of opaque white liquid.
Harry nodded and drank the potion down in one gulp before handing it back still tense, eyes darting around the room searching for any threat or possible hiding place. The overall theme of the room seemed to be midnight blue with accents of gold. Elegant paintings and artwork littered the walls and the bookshelf he'd been hiding against earlier was filled with various paper back and hard cover books of various sizes.
Harry barely noticed Snape snapping his fingers before a House elf popped in with a tray of food. "Unfortunately your body won't be able to handle rich foods for a few days yet, so broth and clear liquids will be your diet until your body is sufficiently recovered."
Harry said nothing as he started to eat with almost frantic efficiency. Within only five minutes every bit that had been on the tray was gone.
"Mr. Potter, you are not allowed to overexert yourself in your current condition but If you would like I could procure a book from the library so as to keep your boredom at a minimum," Snape was acting odd. Almost like he wanted Harry to get better.
Harry shook his head and said "I'm tired," It was the first words he had consciously spoken in over a month so it came out cracked and low.
Snape nodded and his lips quirked slightly into what Harry thought must be a smile. "Of course. Sleep as much as you need."
Harry was mesmerized by the small smile on his professors normally dower face. "You look good when you smile. You should do it more often," Harry said not knowing why the thought had come out of his mouth at all but exactly take it back so left it alone.
"You really should rest," Snape said as he stood, little blotches of color blossoming across his cheekbones. Walking over to Harry, who flinched again, he gently pushed Harry to lie down. Snape placed the blanket that had fallen to the floor up over Harry's shoulders. Harry just stared the entire time. Feeling very confused.
Snape walked back to his seat and picked up the book he had been reading. He crossed his legs and set the open book in his lap. Snape noticed that Harry didn't fall asleep right away but didn't comment. Harry continued to stare at him thoughtfully. After about ten minutes Harry's eyes finally drifted shut.
Severus entered the throne room where the Deatheater meeting was still taking place, approached raised dias before bowing deeply. "My Lord."
"Ahh, Severus, tell us about your experience with Potter," The Dark Lord said as he sat down on the ornately carved wingback throne at the center of the dias.
"The injuries he sustained are healing quite rapidly. He should be able to leave the room by tomorrow night at the latest," Severus had yet to rise from the floor having not been given permision.
"Stand," The DarkLlord commanded before continuing his interrogation. "What about his fear? Has that dissipated at all?"
"He still flinches but he did talk to me of his own volition. I think he may trust me slightly more than Lucius given our history as teacher and student," Severus offered.
"That could be rightly so but unfortunately he can't just trust you. He needs to trust as many of us as possible if our plans are to succeed. I will go to him. see if I can convey something through our connection. I fear my physical presence may be detrimental to any progress made earlier," The Dark Lord said before dismissing all those present and stalking out of the room.
Harry? Harry? Voldemort coxed Harry's mind to answer him. He used the Boys first name deliberately. Knowing, somehow, that the more familiar he was with the boy to begin with the easier it would be to get the boy's trust.
After a few moments Harry's mind responded Yes?
How are you, dear child. Since Voldemort was incapable of touching the boy without harming him he chose to use words to sooth him. It was a skill he had not used in a very long time.
Still hurts. Harry's mind all but whispered.
It will take a few days for the pain to subside fully, little one.
Why can't anyone just let me die? Why can't I get that kind of peace? It was obvious that the boy didn't know to whom he was speaking.
Would you leave those who care for you so easily? Voldemort sent feelings of concern and worry along their connection.
No one cares. There is no one to remember me when I am gone. All I am to them is a symbol of hope in darkness. They only see me as The-Boy-Who-Lived. Not just 'Harry'. Why don't they see me? The pain that Harry felt was so intense Voldemort cringed and was thankfull for the private quarters that Lucius had provided for him.
I see you. You are a remarkable boy. You have far more power and resolve than anyone I have ever come across. I would remember you. As would many of my followers. Seems you have embedded yourself in their minds without even knowing you did.
That can't be true. They don't even know me.
Severus know you, he would be greatly affected by your death. It is not easy to get that man to smile. There was a chuckle in Voldemort's voice. Lucius too knows you. He feels a connection to you. He respects you and worries for you. As any wizard should for a child in so much pain. Feelings of comfort and affection were sent across the deepening connection between once bitter enemies.
Voldemort let their connection close to allow the battered teen to rest and reflect. Voldemort hoped, perhaps more than he should, that Harry would one day become a very powerful ally.
AN2: I have updated this chapter changing wording here and there and corrected all the incorrect grammar, spelling and punctuation I could find. I mainly changed Snapes scene. I felt he was acting too OOC. I think I got alot closer to his true nature.
AN3: Alright it has been a long time since I read through this, I have evolved as a writer since I first wrote this so I went over everything and hopefully it seems more coherent and the Point-of-view issues I had before are fully corrected and make everything flow just a bit better.
Any constructive critisism is as always lovingly cultivated!