Nothing

Note: I was inspired to do this when I was watching Jackass and saw the skit where Brad Pitt was 'kidnapped' and forced into a van. I thought it was awesome so I wrote this fic with the same sort of beginning.

Nothing

Harry stood in line, along side the burgundy velvet rope. Ron and Hermione stood slightly in front of him, effectively ignoring the rather uncomfortable boy as they kissed and nuzzled each other’s necks.

The couple had persuaded Harry to come to the club they visited quite regularly. Harry, having denied and made up excuses every other time his friends had asked him, was unable to worm his way out of their last request. Being the ‘friends’ they were Ron and Hermione had conspired together and ensured Harry had no other plans for this night.

While Hermione called Harry’s boss at the Ministry of Magic, requesting that he not work overtime on this Saturday night, Ron talked to anyone else Harry knew, Seamus, Dean, Oliver and some others letting them know that Harry had pervious plans.

Harry could almost say he was spiteful towards his friends.

There was only one good thing that could come of this night, Harry had decided after he found there was no way of escape; once Ron and Hermione say how miserable he would be as a third wheel at their club, they would feel too guilty to ask – no force – him into this situation again.

It wasn’t Harry’s fault that he had not yet found someone he could be with, as Ron and Hermione were. The two had known for a few months now that Harry was indeed gay, and though there had been a lot of ridicule and rumours when the Prophet had found out, people eventually got over and it and had begun to accept it.

Though, honestly, Harry knew that he was attracted to the opposite sex, he had yet to experience any sort of intimacy with anyone else. Even though the wizarding world now knew that he was into men, he still did not yet trust anyone to like him just for himself.

No matter if the potential partner was male or female, Harry couldn’t be sure if it was just his money and fame they were after, having finally defeated Lord Voldemort.

That was what the whole point of this night was, apparently. For him to relax around a large group of people his age, and hopefully be able to pick up… or so Hermione has said. Harry was sure she was just on an endorphin high as she was having such a good time with Ron as her boyfriend. Harry knew that she only wanted to share the love, but Harry was beginning to think that there was no ‘love’ out there for him.

Oh, well. Harry stepped forward in the line outside of the club, waiting for them to reach the front door.

So engrossed in his thoughts, Harry didn’t pay much attention to the thumping sound of the sub-woofers in a van as it slowly drove up the street. When the occupants of the van saw a line of people they slowed down even further and some of them stuck their heads out of the black van windows.

“Hey, baby. You lookin’ for a fuck?” one of them yelled at a woman drunkenly.

That was when Harry looked up.

“Come on, honey,” another slurred, “I’m more of a man that poncy redhead boyfriend of yours.”

Harry realised that they were talking to Hermione, and he glanced a look at his friends. Ron was fuming, but wisely staying quiet as not to cause trouble.

The van had stopped, the men were obviously having fun harassing those in the club line.

Then, one of them noticed Harry.

“Oh, fuck, dude,” the first one goggled as he punched his friend in the arm to draw his attention. “Look. It’s Harry-fucking-Potter.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he shuddered knowing that they were wizards and had announced it to everyone around him of who he was.

“Hey, lemme see,” someone else in the van pushed their way through and stuck their head out the window.

“Fuck, Merlin. It is.”

The men laughed and gawked some more until the blonde one sneered and growled, “GRAB HIM!”

The next few seconds passed in a haze for Harry. His eyes widened again as the door of the black van was thrown open, and three of the four men from within jumped out. While one big, burly man pushed the other patrons out of the way including Ron and Hermione, the two others, the blonde one and another with raven-hair, grabbed his arms and hauled him across the footpath and straight into the van, knocking over the velvet rope in their haste.

Harry heard some faint screaming and a lot of shouting as he was roughly shoved into the van. The three others jumped in behind him, the door slammed shut and they sped away.

Not knowing what to do, or what to even think of the situation, Harry backed up into the van wall. The big, burly guy climbed back into the front passenger seat, leaving Harry with the two that had grabbed him. They leered down on his huddled form.

“What do you want?”

Harry wanted his voice to sound demanding, but in came out weak and a little scared.

The two ignored him and spoke to each other instead.

“Well, you wanted him D. What are we going to do with him now?” the raven-haired boy asked the blonde.

The blonde looked back down at Harry.

“I just wanted to see how tough the so-called ‘Saviour of the Wizarding World’ really is. I always thought that he’d be bigger than this.”

Both boys looked down at Harry again.

“You’re right D. Wouldn’t he have to be bigger to kill the Dark Lord?”

The once called ‘D’ shrugged before suddenly jumping on the smaller boy, and pulling at the messy black hair to reveal his forehead. They revealed his scar.

“Yep. That’s him alright,” the one in the front stated matter-of-factly, looking back from the front seat observing the going-ons.

Harry began to struggle in earnest, regretting that he had left his wand at home, thinking that he wouldn’t need it at a muggle club.

“Let me go!” he shouted desperately, doing his best to escape the blonde’s harsh hands.

“Quick, Blaise. Grab some of that rope.” D demanded as he gripped tighter to the struggling form.

Harry didn’t like the sound of that, but there was nothing he could do as he was forced on his stomach by the blonde while the other used some grotty old rope to bind his hands behind his back.

“No,” Harry protested, “Please don’t.”

This hadn't been the first time he had been restrained against his will. And the first time had no good memories associated with the experience with it.

Some of Voldemort’s Death Eaters had captured him before the final battle, and entertained themselves with torturing and inflicting pain on the small boy. It was only due to the stupidity of one Death Eater by the name of Lucius Malfoy, who was strutting around with Harry’s wand, which assisted in Harry’s escape.

From there Harry went on to vanquish Voldemort, and the rest was history. Unfortunately it left Harry with the phobia of being held against his will.

As the last knot was tied Harry began to tremble involuntarily with fear and, Harry hated to feel, tears welled up in his eyes.

“Please let me go. I-I don’t like this.”

Harry did his best to appeal to the others, ignoring the weakness in his voice.

All four of his kidnappers were silent for a moment then cracked with laughing. The boy named Blaise wiped away his own tears of mirth, hauled him back up into a sitting position, and grabbed another length of rope to bind his ankles.

Harry’s head dropped in shame.

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asked the blonde boy directly, figuring he was the one in charge.

D came down, directly in front of Harry and sneered at him, leaning in so close that Harry had to move his head back and, as a result, banged it against the side of the van. He winced.

The blonde smirked at his pain and whispered in his ear.

“I have wanted to see the boy who destroyed my family for a long time now… I just couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.”

Harry froze as he turned to face his abductor.

“W-Who are you?” Harry whispered.

“Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

The only thought that flitted through Harry’s mind then was; oh shit.

This was clearly the son of the Death Eater who had ultimately assisted in his escape from Voldemort. Harry had heard that Lucius Malfoy had been immediately killed for his stupidity, leaving a wife and their only son who attended Durmstrang School of Sorcery.

“That’s right, Harry Potter,” Draco sneered when he saw the recognition in the smaller boys green eyes. “It’s your fault that my father was killed, which lead to my mother’s suicide, which resulted in me being left alone in the world.”

As the blonde spoke, he grabbed up a dirty and greasy rag off the van floor and stuffed it into Harry’s mouth and tied at the back of his head. Harry gagged, but didn’t stop listening.

“Then, when you killed Voldemort, my father’s accounts and estates were seized, him being a known Death Eater, and left me with nothing. NOTHING!!”

Draco reared back and punched Harry squarely across his face. Harry was knocked to the floor of the van before the sole of a boot slammed into his ribs. Rough hand flipped him onto his front and pushed between his shoulder blades – a silent command to stay down.

The other three friends of Draco’s had stayed silent during the exchange, knowing the blondes story and giving him his chance to begin to extract his revenge.

It was only then did they see that the pathetic ‘Saviour’ hide his head as best he could before allowing the tears to drop heavily on the metal floor of the van.

Harry didn’t know how much longer they drove for, but he was sure that they were well out of the city, leaving no hope for him to be found anytime soon.

The van turned, and bumped up what could only be a driveway before finally being put into park. Harry remained motionless, aside from his trembling, as the four got out of their van. The big, burly man from the front seat then reached back in and dragged Harry out, hoisting him over his shoulder.

Harry’s only view from there was of the large back, but just by the movements, Harry knew that he was being taken upstairs of what could only be an apartment block. Eventually keys jingled, clicked a lock open, then they were inside and Harry was dropped unceremoniously on the carpeted floor.

He whimpered at the abuse, but did nothing else. It seemed for the moment that his four kidnappers had lost interest in him as they all made their way to a small kitchen in search of more alcohol.

The night went on and Harry was continually ignored as the other became more and more pissed. His wrists, ankles and corners of his mouth were beginning to really hurt as he struggles endured. There was clearly no way out, but he desperately did everything of his limited ability he could to escape. Of course, it was futile.

During the early hours of the morning the driver of the van and the big, burly man said their goodbyes and left, stumbling out the door. Half listening to their conversations, Harry had discovered that the young Malfoy rented the apartment along with his friend, Blaise, and that the other two had their own flat a few blocks from where they were.

As soon as the door clicked closed, all attention from the remaining two men turned on the prone body of Harry. He shuddered.

“So what are you going to do with him, D?” the boy with dark haired asked, not taking his eyes off the pathetic form.

Draco chuckled. “What I’ve wanted to do every since I found out about my father.”

With that the rope around Harry’s ankles was cut and he was manhandled into an upright position. Harry was then shoved down a hallway and into a bedroom. On the way there some of the shoves caused Harry no fall heavily to the ground no less than two times, but there was no remorse, and he was hauled back up by the hair or collar of his shirt.

Inside the bedroom Harry didn’t even to get a glance at his surroundings as he was forced onto the bed, face first. He knew that this wasn’t good, and there were only two things that Harry could think of which would require the privacy of an enclosed room; torture or sexual assault. Both of them scared Harry immensely.

Sounds of shuffling could be heard from above him, before the bed dipped and a voice whispered in his ear.

“I heard about you being gay, Potter. Let’s find out how much you like getting fucked.”

Harry whimpered and increased his struggles. Now that his legs were free he did his best to lash out and kick the other boy, but to no avail. He felt the weight leave the bed and listened to the young Malfoy walk across the room. The next thing he knew, a spell had been cast, and his legs were bound in a spread-eagled position, unable to move. Another charm identified as a silencing spell was set around the room so that Harry’s makeshift gag could be removed.

“I have been dreaming about this for the last year,” Draco growled down at the bound boy as he made it back to the bed. “I have wanted to see you cry, listen to you scream and feel you break beneath me… you and I are going to have a lot of fun…”

Harry did his best to try and twist around, to plead with his eyes to be released from this torment.

“Please don’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Harry whimpered, voice slightly scratchy. “I didn’t mean for your father to die, to be killed. But I didn’t want to die either, and he had my wand. Please don’t do this. Leave me alone. Please!”

Harry didn’t care that he was begging. He was really beginning to panic. All the memories of being captured and tortured by the Death Eaters were returning and causing him to hyperventilate.

“Please…” he whispered.

Draco ignored the pleading.

“Stop the fucking whining, you little bitch,” Draco scowled as he vanished the smaller boy’s pants and straddled his hips. “It’s your fucking fault that my father is dead, it’s your fault that my mother is dead, and it’s your fault that I have nothing left. No money, no house. NOTHING!”

As the angry blonde spouted the same argument, he slammed into Harry’s arse, forcing the mental pain within him onto the smaller boy physically.

Harry screamed.

For Harry it felt like an eternity of pain and suffering. Not quite like the Cruciatus curse, yet just as terrible with the pain centred on such a sensitive, nerve ridden area.

The bed rocked with the forcefulness of Draco’s thrusts, banging against the wall and making Harry fell nauseous. Tears leaked unchecked out of Harry’s eyes and blood dribbled down his thighs.

The blonde above him kept up his fast pace, doing his best to inflict as much pain as possible. Harry’s hands bound behind his back did cause some discomfort for Draco as they dug into his stomach when he lowered himself. But he decided it was for the best, minimising any non-harmful contact.

Neither knew how long it went for, but Draco eventually found his release and spurted it inside the abused form below him, scorching Harry’s raw insides. Harry was only able to whimper, after all of his energy had left him. And the tears kept coming.

Draco, not knowing what else to do with the boy now, grabbed his wand again. First he spelled away the bonds and levitated the half naked boy onto a chair in the corner of the room. Finally he effectively tied the boy to the chair to ensure he couldn’t try to retaliate or escape during the night.

As for Harry, he let out another half whimper; half scream as pressure was placed on his abused behind, but there was nothing he could do as the blonde wove his magic. Not long after that the resulting pain caused Harry to pass out.

Draco saw as the smaller boy slipped into unconsciousness and frowned. Finally, after a year of boarding and imagining what revenge would be like, it had happened. But Draco couldn’t find it within him to be satisfied. Honestly, Draco never thought he would have had his chance. He always envisioned Harry Potter as a huge, scary and intimidating man, not some pathetically small teenager acting as the third wheel behind his friends. The vanquisher of the Dark Lord was not supposed to get scared, beg and most definitely not cry! Yet that is exactly what had happened. Had he really extracted revenge on his parents, or had he sexually abused another boy who, at the time, was defenceless, weaker and clearly outnumbered?

Draco spelled away the soiled sheets and lay down on the bare bed. He quickly glanced at the unconscious boy and shuddered. How could taking revenge be the wrong thing to do?

~*~

It was late the next morning when Harry finally managed to wake up. At first he had hoped with all his being that it had only been a horrible dream, at the club, being shoved into the van, being raped… But then his eyes opened and he saw reality glaring at him in the face. Or rather the boy named Blaise.

Blaise strolled into the room.

“So… did the boy wonder have fun last night?” he mocked.

Harry flinched and looked down. There was no way he could face his other kidnapper in the state he was in. He was still naked from the waist down and he knew Blaise was having a good look at everything.

“Don’t want to talk? That’s alright. Draco’s gone to work, so it’s just you… and me.”

Harry shook his head, no, and began trembling again. It couldn’t happen again, it wasn’t fair. What had he done to result in so much pain and punishment?

Blaise pulled his own wand and cast a banishing charm, but not only did it remove the rope holding him to the chair, but his remaining cloths – his shirt and socks. Then, with a fist full of hair, Blaise grabbed up the terrified boy and took him to his own bedroom.

~*~

It was just after five o’clock when Draco made it home from his job at a local muggle supermarket. With the Malfoy named sullied in the Wizarding World, Draco had to resort to looking for work in the muggle world just so he could live and feed himself.

Draco went directly to his room and saw the empty chair. He had known that Blaise would have put his greedy hands on their captive since he was not there, and Draco had done nothing to prevent it. He didn’t want to think about what he had done the previous night, and thankfully the alcohol he had consumed had muted his memory. Unfortunately he did remember the pain and suffering he’d inflicted on Harry and he hated himself for it.

The blonde boy quickly got changed and walked out into the hall. That’s when he heard it.

“NO! Not again, PLEASE, not ag-”

Then quiet chuckling.

Draco knew that the cry had come from the bathroom by the echo of the words, so he race in to see what his friend was up to. When Draco opened the door, he froze in shock.

Blaise was kneeling next to the bathtub, which was full to the brim of water. Under the water was a weakly struggling Harry. His hands were once again bound behind his back. Bruises littered the thin pale body, and Draco could also clearly see a red cloud of blood rising from between Harry’s legs. Blaise had obviously just raped the boy again.

Back up to Harry’s face, Draco could see the life fading from is as his oxygen supply was stolen from him.

Without thinking, Draco stepped up to his friend, pushed him away from the bath and pulled Harry into a sitting position so he could gasp in much needed air.

“What the fuck are you doing, D?” Blaise demanded, slightly frustrated that his fun had been taken away.

“What do you think, Blaise? You’re killing him. If we get caught we’re already going down for kidnapping. Do you want to go down for murder as well?”

Blaise clearly didn’t understand. Harry coughed and sputtered in the background.

“I though that’s what you wanted, Draco,” Blaise was serious now. “Isn’t the death of the Boy-Who-Lived what you wanted for the last year?”

Draco didn’t know what to say. Admittedly, yes, it was what he had wanted, but now, he wasn’t so sure.

“You can’t kill him, Blaise.” Draco turned his back to his friend and helped the weak boy out of the bath. But as soon as Harry get both feet on the tiled floor, the spell struck and sent him crashing to the ground. Harry screamed against all odds, and his protesting body.

Draco glared up at Blaise, not understanding why he would cast a Crucio now. But he wasn’t going to let it continue. Pulling his own wand from the back pocket of his jeans, Draco effectively disarmed his so-called friend, before quickly stunning him.

Harry managed to whimper, “no more”, and passed out again.

Draco felt horrible. This was all his fault.

The boy at his feet had suffered a life without parents, unwanted fame, torture at the hands of Death Eaters, criticism for being gay, and now sexual assault from vengeful Death Eater sons’. And what had he done to deserve such cruel treatment? Draco couldn’t think of one single thing even being mentioned in the media of Harry Potter doing a single thing wrong. Nothing.

There was only one thing he could do, and though it wouldn’t make up for what he had already done, he could prevent anything else happening to the smaller boy at the hands of his friends.

Draco used magic to undo the rope and redress Harry, then (because it was a muggle apartment block he lived in) carried the light boy down the stairs, into the garage and over to his car.

The trip into London and through the busy city to St Mungo’s was a fast one, Draco didn’t know whether Blaise had caused any sort of internal damage or not so he didn’t want to risk even more harm by dawdling. He knew that the proper thing to do would be to turn himself in, but he was too much of a coward. Besides, Blaise would punish him enough when he woke up and found that his fun had been taken away.

So, instead, Draco gathered Harry out of the car and set him down near the edge of the building where someone would diffidently walk past to find him.

With one last, final look, Draco jumped back into his car and sped home to face the music. He had destroyed Harry’s life, it was only right that his life was destroyed too. And after that, when his friends turned against him, he’d truly have nothing… Nothing.

The End