Lord Voldemort\'s Slave

Title: Lord Voldemort’s Slave

Author: gorgeousbowneyes

Betas: Slyth Slytherdor, AgRose. (Thanks heaps guys!)

Rating: NC-17

Summary: “How does it feel, Miss Granger, to see your precious Golden Boy, the only one wanting me to fight this, the only one left to support my cause?” They thought Harry was dead. But the truth is much worse.

Warnings: Abuse, Anal, Angst, AU/AR, BDSM, D/s, M/M, Dubious Consent, Violence

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form, I’m just using JK Rowling’s characters for my own entertainment and no copyright was intended.

AN: At the end

Lord Voldemort’s Slave

By gorgeousbowneyes

-

Part Two:

-

Hermione took in a deep breath, and knocked on the hospital door.

“Enter,” said a soft voice from within. She pushed the door open and walked into the hospital room containing her best friend, Harry Potter.

“Hey Harry,” she said softly.

“Hi Hermione.”

“How are you feeling today?” She was rather optimistic this morning. He had been responding well the last few weeks, becoming more and more human, much like his old self.

“I’m quite good, actually,” he replied. He looked up and their eyes met. There was still something off about his eyes, something not quite right with them. But Hermione supposed they would always be like that now, after all Harry had been through.

“That’s excellent to hear,” she said, a little too much enthusiasm in her voice.

“They say I’ll be discharged within the week.”

“What? Why, that’s excellent news Harry!”

“Yeah. Apparently I’m not crazy enough for this ward anymore. They want me to get back into society and try living normally again. All they’ll require is that I come by once a week for regular Healer appointments so they can monitor my mental state.”

“But that’s a good thing Harry. We’ve all been dying to see you get back on your feet again. Wait til I tell the Weasleys, I’m sure there will be a big party to welcome you home. They’ll be so excited.”

“Hmm, yeah.”

“What’s the matter, Harry? Something’s bothering you.”

“Well, it’s not that I’m not excited to leave. It’s just I don’t know where to go... I haven’t got a home anymore to go to.”

“Don’t be silly! You’ll come to my place. Or to the Weasley’s. Where ever you want to go. You do have family, Harry.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks Hermione.”

“It’ll all be OK Harry, you’ll see.”

“Mmm.”

-

“Hey look, Mum, there he is! Harry’s coming out now!” Ron exclaimed, motioning to his mother to come see.

Mrs Weasley and Ron were here at St Mungo’s with Hermione to pick up Harry, a few days later.

“Oh bless the heavens, it’s so good to see him up and walking about, just like normal again!” Mrs Weasley exclaimed, rushing forward to greet Harry as he walked towards them. She engulfed him in a tight hug when they were close enough to do so.

Hermione and Ron finally caught up to Mrs Weasley and when she eventually let him go, both gave him a hug as well.

“The paperwork’s all finalized. I’m officially sane and discharged,” Harry said meekly.

“Harry, it’s wonderful news!” There were tears in Mrs Weasley’s eyes as she spoke. “It’s so good to have you back! You know I love you like you were my own son don’t you?”

“Yes Mrs Weasley,” Harry replied. “I’m so glad you think of me that way.”

“Oh!” she sobbed and drew him into another tight hug. She finally let him go, but still held onto his arm. The four of them made their way out of St Mungo’s and back to the Burrow. Harry’s magic was still there, but it was weak after not using it for so long. He side-along apparated with Mrs Weasley who refused to let go of him, and he didn’t mind her holding on so tightly.

-

“Harry,” Ron started, not sure how to continue with what needed to be said. Hermione looked up from her book, knowing the topic which Ron was trying to bring up.

“Harry,” Ron started again, after clearing his throat. “There’s something the two of us have been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Hmm?” Harry said, looking up from the Quidditch magazine he had been flipping through.

“Well... I don’t know how to say this. It’s hard to bring up...”

“Ron, are you trying to tell me about the relationship you have with Hermione, because I already know you guys are an item.”

“No, Harry, no, that’s not it. Although it is something we’ve been meaning to talk about. Hermione and I got engaged two weeks before you were let out of hospital. With Voldemort’s reign over, we figured why not.” He saw Harry flinch, and his eyes turn shadowy at the mention of Voldemort.

“Congratulations guys!” Harry said, a smile across his lips, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes, but that’s not what we need to talk about, is it Ron?” said Hermione, speaking up for the first time so far.

“Then what is it?” Harry queried.

“Well, like I said, it’s hard to bring up...” Ron stammered.

“Harry,” Hermione continued. “It’s been six months since Voldemort’s surrender, and since we found you. You’ve been out of hospital for a month now. I know that this is potentially very hard to discuss, but...” She trailed off.

“What we’re trying to talk about, Harry, is what’s going on with Voldemort.” Ron finally said. “His trial hasn’t even commenced yet, because there is an enormous amount of evidence to gather in which to charge him with. A lot of it has to do with you. Your parents, everything that happened at school, and now...”

“My enslavement?”

“Y-y-yes.”

“Ron, I can talk about it you know. I was enslaved to Voldemort for four years. And yes it bothers me, it’s still so fresh in my mind, and how I was... I was besotted with him. I don’t know what happened... I suppose they’re right, I went crazy. And now I’m free, but I don’t know how to live, how to act... It’s hard to live. But please don’t be scared around me. I can’t stand it.”

“Harry... We’re here for you. I don’t know how much help Ron and I can be, but you have to know that we love you and care for you and don’t want to see you hurting, so if there is anything we can do, please tell us.”

“There’s nothing you can do Hermione. Being here is enough.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Finally, Ron broke the silence. “Voldemort’s trial starts next week. I wanted to know if you wanted to go to it, considering a lot of his offences are to do with you.”

Harry gulped. “I don’t know if I can. I want to see justice done... but being there, near him again, seeing him... I don’t know that I can, Ron.”

“We understand Harry,” Hermione said, moving over to hug the now shaking Harry.

They sat there, Hermione rocking him for a little while, until Harry was able to compose himself once more, his eyes refocusing and coming back to the present.

“But... I think I need to go,” Harry finally said.

-

“Order! Order in my courtroom!” the judge bellowed. “I realise that this is probably the biggest trial we’ll see in over a hundred years, but I will not have such noise in my courtroom!”

The crowds settled down, and a hush came over them. Among the crowds, and in special reserved seating, were Harry, Ron and Hermione. All three would be giving evidence at some point in the trial, but that would be a long way away. Meanwhile, Harry was seated between his two best friends, and was shaking in fear at the thought of what was to come.

“Bring forth the prisoner,” the judge called, and the courtroom doors opened. The entire room turned to watch the scene unfold.

Escorted by no less than ten Aurors, a wandless, bound and dirty Lord Voldemort was dragged into the room, stumbling and smelly.

Harry trembled at the sight, and looked away, a single tear falling from his eye.

Suddenly, there was a sound of commotion and Harry had to look back. Voldemort must have done something to anger the Aurors, because now one was striking him with a whip across the back. Suddenly, Harry reacted without even thinking.

He jumped to his feet, amid the catcalls and booing around him. “Stop,” he whispered. They didn’t hear him over the noise they were making, the judge banging away with his hammer, calling for order. He couldn’t stand it. His Master was being hurt, the sounds around him were horrific and it was just too much.

“STOP!” he commanded, the ground thundering beneath him and the lights in the room flickering. “I said stop!”

The room fell completely still, all looking at the Boy-Who-Lived, his magic swirling through the room.

Voldemort looked up. Their eyes met. And Harry crumbled.

“No,” he sobbed.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, realising that Harry was starting to revert back into Voldemort’s toy. But she could do nothing as he fell to his knees, even here, between Hermione and Ron, metres and metres away from Voldemort.

And then Voldemort laughed.

A cruel, deep and menacing laugh that echoed around the silent room. Their precious Golden Boy was still his, no matter how much of a recovery he had made.

Hermione jumped to her feet. As an Auror Commander, she could take control of the situation, as nobody else seemed to be.

“Aurors! Take the prisoner back to his cell and await further instruction! Don’t let him out of your sight!” She turned to the judge. “This trial is over for the day! It can reconvene tomorrow morning, and I pray that by then this will be a private trial. What on earth were you thinking, Minister,” she glanced to the Minister who was seated nearby, “putting such a person to a public trial. It’s madness!”

Harry watched as his Master was dragged away, and back out the doors. He felt someone shaking him, someone calling his name, but he couldn’t comprehend it. He needed his Master.

Suddenly, someone slapped him. It broke the fuzz, and he looked up at a grim looking Hermione.

“Ow,” he said, bringing a hand up to rub his cheek.

“Oh Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, breaking down weeping at such a casual remark from him after what just happened. She fell to her knees in front of him and pulled him into a hug.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Ron said, from next to them.

-

Harry lay awake and sleepless that night, thinking of the events that had occurred. He could vaguely hear Ron and Hermione arguing over whether he should be going back to the trial the next day. He knew he had to, but wasn’t sure if he could survive once more. Anything they decided was pointless anyway, he had to make up his own mind. But it was their way of dealing, fighting with each other just seemed natural to Ron and Hermione. Just how he remembered them.

But that was Ron and Hermione. That was a part of how they functioned. They argued, they made up, they had sex, and remembered how much they loved each other, only to start the whole process over again. It was horribly ‘normal’. Harry couldn’t stand it anymore. As much as he loved them both...He couldn’t stand the normality of it all. He’d been too different for too long...

He suddenly knew what had to be done. He rushed out of bed and to the writing desk in the corner of the small room allocated to him at the Burrow. He scribbled a short note, left it lying on the desk, quill on top, and then apparated away. It would be morning before anyone noticed he was gone, a good twelve hours away.

-

The Aurors on guard shifted uneasily.

Voldemort was imprisoned in a stone cell, surrounded on all walls by fifteen Aurors at every hour of the day. The only opening to his cell was the heavy stone door, where three Aurors were constantly at watch. The stone cell was surrounded by another great wall, which had a patrol of twenty guards to ensure that if something happened and he got out of the first cell, he wouldn’t escape past the second wall. The whole place was covered in anti-diapparation spells, anti-portkey spells and spells to ground all persons on broomsticks thirty yards before they even came close.

He was definitely a high security prisoner.

Despite all the protection around him, all of a sudden one Harry Potter appeared inside Voldemort’s cell. The guards on duty were up on their feet in alarm at the intrusion, but they got no further, as Harry’s magic engulfed all thirty-five Aurors in the vicinity and they fell to the ground, stunned.

Harry then looked to Voldemort, who had risen to his feet and was now standing in the middle of the cell.

“Harry... What are you doing here, my pet?”

Harry fell to his knees.

“Master, I came to save you. You can’t have surrendered, please don’t tell me you’ve given up!”

Voldemort chuckled. “Still calling me Master I see? No matter how much they claimed to have ‘cured’ you, you will always be mine.”

“Yes, always. Always yours.”

“You were very clever, my pet, breaking in here, stunning all those guards, and without a wand, my, my. Your powers are very strong once more I see.” Voldemort had moved forward and was now circling around the kneeling Harry.

“I did it all for you, and my powers are all yours.”

“Very good, my pet.”

Voldemort finally stopped circling, and moved in to Harry. He stroked his pet’s hair, one could almost say lovingly. And Harry responded ever so nicely, leaning in to the touch, soft murmurs of pleasure escaping his lips.

“Shall we abandon this prison then, pet? Take us somewhere safe and private. I’ve missed you so, and I believe you need to be reacquainted with the feeling of me inside you.”

Harry whimpered at the thought, the promise of what was to come. He gripped his master’s hand and apparated them to the best place he could think of, where no one would find them for the moment.

The Shrieking Shack.

A few hours here, then they would be gone. Voldemort would build up his strength and following once more, and they would once again take on the world.

-

Clothes that he had forever been uncomfortable wearing were stripped from his body. He was slammed onto the bed.

Voldemort was rough and hurried; after all, he’d been denied the use of his slave for six months.

The Dark Lord undid his own pants, disgusting prison attire as it was, and pulled out his erect and weeping cock. Harry gulped, knowing his Master’s mood, and suspecting that he would get no preparation even after such a long time apart.

Voldemort was above him on the bed and their eyes met. The Dark Lord knew his slave was completely his, adored him, totally loyal to him. His slave probably loved him too, to show such devotion. But all Voldemort felt was cruel satisfaction to have complete control over his once archenemy.

His Master bent and captured his lips in a rough and vicious kiss. Their tongue’s met, and Voldemort growled at his slave’s audacity, biting his slave’s lower lip until it bled in punishment. Harry moaned and bucked his hips, accepting the punishment, but unable to control his natural impulse.

Harry felt as his Master’s hands wrapped around his own small penis and brought him to complete hardness, their kiss still continuing.

Voldemort broke away and brought two fingers to his slave’s mouth.

“Suck.”

Harry looked at him surprised, but did as told. He made a real show of it too; sucking his Lord’s fingers like it was his prick.

“Enough,” Voldemort commanded, and instantly Harry stopped. Harry then felt the fingers at his entrance, slowly working their way inside him. He didn’t expect this. He expected to be brutally taken, ripped, torn, no preparation at all. This was something totally new.

His eyes met once more with Voldemort’s, his confusion held in his look.

“For your loyalty,” was all the explanation that came.

The fingers moved in and out of his tight channel, stretching him, until another was added, and then another. Voldemort didn’t want him too prepared however; he still wanted it to hurt. He pulled out his fingers and positioned his cock at his whimpering slave’s entrance.

He slammed into Harry violently, all the way to the hilt, and his slave arched his back off the bed and let out a scream, what was to be the first of many agonising screams of many for that night.

Domestication hadn’t suited Harry, Voldemort decided, he could never be a normal man, would never be able to have a normal life or a normal sex life. Voldemort pondered the mix of expressions on his slave’s face, pain mostly, and a hint of desire and pleasure. Voldemort rolled his hips forward slightly, jarring the boy before he was quite ready, causing another squeal to rip from that throat. No, his pet was just that, his pet, always would be, was always meant to be.

Harry let out a breath, relaxing his body to the intrusion, and he was once more struck by the generosity his Master was paying him tonight. Waiting for him to adjust? That was a new one.

Voldemort leaned forward to capture his lips once more, and he submitted freely. Their kiss sent a fire to the pit of Harry’s stomach, and he found himself urging Voldemort to move with slight presses of his hips.

Voldemort broke the kiss and smiled an almost gentle smile. “Ah-ah, pet, I set the pace,” he said, reaching to Harry’s hips and holding them in place. The pressure of Harry’s firm little behind wrapped around his cock was starting to affect his cool demeanour, but he was determined to torture the slave beneath him with absolutely no friction until he was absolutely begging and crying for it.

He felt the tight muscle around him pulse and knew it wouldn’t take much to make him plead for Voldemort to move. In the mean time, Voldemort moved his hands to Harry’s nipples, stroking his chest and abdomen in light touches, making the boy shiver and his flesh come out in goose-bumps. He tweaked one nipple, then moved off to continue stroking the pale skin. The other hand then came up and pinched the other nipple, harder this time, with a twist. He leaned over and licked the nipple just released from his grip, then sucked hard.

Harry arched up into the touch once more at the sensation. He was panting heavily now, and he knew that he wasn’t going to survive much more if this.

“Please...”

“What was that, dear pet?”

“P-p-please! Please will you fuck me.”

“Well, I don’t know. You ask so nicely but...”

“Please!” Harry exclaimed in desperation, as Voldemort kneaded the first nipple between his fingers. “Please, please, please will you fuck me,” Harry started to blubber. His eyes started to well with tears at the tension he felt, and he just wanted Voldemort to bloody move!

Ever so slowly, Voldemort pulled his hips back, tiny inch by inch. It was excruciatingly slow and painful, and Harry knew now what his Master wanted.

“Please...” he started once more, in a husky voice. “Please, Master, fuck me fast and hard, I need you to fill me, oh, p-p-please, please Master!”

Voldemort chuckled. “My pace isn’t good enough for you, pet? And what if I decided that I liked this speed, that I wanted to keep you on the brink and fuck you all night just like this?”

“Ngh-!” Voldemort had returned to balls deep within him, and the complete feeling of fullness engulfed him, making his eyes glaze over momentarily. He gasped for breath before answering.

“M-M-Master, please, I need you!”

“You need me? Pet, need is a very strong word,” Voldemort commented, slowly pulling out once more, and when he reached his tip, the point where he was almost slipping out, he rammed back in quickly.

Harry gasped once again at the sudden thrust. There were tears freely falling down his face, he was blabbering incoherently, hands buried in the old sheets on the bed, gripping tight. He let out a gut wrenching sob, and tried to lift his hips once more, but Voldemort still had a firm grip on him, keeping him in place.

“Master, I’m yours, please, please, oh sweet Merlin, please! I need you to move faster, just like I need you as a Master. Fuck! Please!” There was no just a subtle hint of desperation in his voice.

Finally accepting the begging, Voldemort pulled out swiftly, then plunged back in. He sped up the pace, and Harry cried out in delight. It was vicious again, Voldemort pounding Harry into the bed, moans, screams, grunts, yells and groans reverberated around the room and the couple lost the world as they plunged over the edge into oblivion. Harry’s back snapped back further than he thought possible as Voldemort grabbed his prick and started stroking, encouraging his orgasm to come first. Harry fell off the edge, lost in sensations and the bliss of oblivion. Voldemort felt the pulses and contractions around his cock as Harry’s body spilt buckets of come onto his own chest and the bed. The sensations were enough to finish him within a few more decent thrusts, and then Voldemort was lost as well.

After lying there, Voldemort on top of Harry, cock still up his arse, for a few minutes to catch their breath, Voldemort finally rolled to the side and slipped from Harry’s body. He wrapped his arms around the smaller frame, mouth close to the shell of his ear, which he licked possessively.

Voldemort growled, and spoke one last word before the two slipped into sleep. They would awake later to repeat the events of the evening, but for now Voldemort was just happy to lay his claim.

“Mine.”

-

The sun rose, and dawn came and went. It was well into mid morning before anyone came to wake Harry, thinking he needed his sleep. It was good that he was finally able to sleep through the night, on a bed as well.

When Hermione finally knocked on his door, thinking it was about time he got up at 11am in the morning, still no one suspected a thing.

Hermione knocked. And knocked.

No response.

She knocked once more and still there was no movement from Harry’s room. Deciding to find out what was going on inside Harry’s room, she pushed the door open to find Harry’s bed empty.

Was he up already? She could have sworn that no one had seen him so far this morning. He was supposedly sleeping in, according to Mrs Weasley! She took another quick glance around the room before –

She spotted a piece of paper and quill with fresh ink on it on the writing desk.

Suspicious, she made her way over to the desk and picked up the paper. Written on it was a hurriedly scribbled note.

“To My Family,

I’m so sorry. I love you all, but I just can’t be normal. It’s not who I am. He owns me, I’m his property.

Please don’t be sad, this is just how it has to be.

Love ...Harry

Lord Voldemort’s slave.”

Hermione gasped as she finished reading the note, tears falling freely from her eyes. Harry was gone for good this time, she could feel it.

He was truly Lord Voldemort’s slave now.

-

AN: Well, that's the last bit. I hope you've enjoyed this here little story and I hope that you do indeed review and tell me what you thought of the piece, as I'm rather fond of this work. It's a piece that just came to me and was itching to be written, I had no choice in the matter. I really appreciate all the reviews so far!

So thanks for reading, and I really do hope you leave a review!