Loud, agonized screams rang through the Great Hall as a young man writhed in agony at the feet of an older man with the facial features reminiscent of a snake rather than a man. This young man released another anguished wail as the curse continued wreaking havoc upon his already battered and abused body. Tears were streaming down his dirt- and blood caked cheeks and he scratched at the stone floor with already bloodied fingertips in desperation.

This young man suffered because he had failed his destiny as the Saviour of the Wizarding World. He had been hailed as a hero, the Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, the Boy Who Lived. But Harry Potter, Child of Prophesy, was defeated by his enemy. Voldemort had won.

The Cruciatus was finally lifted and Harry curled into himself with a soft whimper. The Death Eaters laughed at the pathetic display of the by, mocking him as their Lord watched and smiled indulgently.

Harry ignored his tormenters and instead focused on his friends. He was lying in a puddle of blood not his own, with the corpses of Ron, Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Tonks and nearly every one of the teaching staff and the Order. Percy and Charlie stared at the ceiling unseeing a few yards away, near their last surviving relatives. Ginny was desperately clutching Charlie's cold body while Fred and George kept close to her, glaring hatefully at the Death Eaters tasked with guarding them. Bill also sat near, trying to comfort his young, hysteric wife.

Other survivors, Harry noted sluggishly, were Parvati and Padma Patil, Angelina Johnson and Romilda Vane. Dean Thomas was cradling his friend, Seamus' head in his lap, but the other boy was clearly already dead, blood drying in the corner of his mouth. Hannah Abbot sat in a corner together with Ernie McMillan and Cho was staring fearfully at their guards, tears streaming down her cheeks as Luna tried to comfort her.

Harry looked away feeling guilty for not being able to protect any of them. He watched the other side of the Great Hall, where all the 7th year Slytherin students were standing, all looking pale-faced and nervous.

There were Draco, Pansy, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Tracy Davis and a girl Harry never bothered learning the name of. Harry momentarily wondered what would happen to them and if Voldemort would force them to take his mark.

A hissing laugh had Harry tense up, making his muscles all scream in protest at the simple movement. Slowly, he looked up, meeting cold, red eyes with tired, haunted green. Voldemort smirked.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort spoke softly, almost hissing his enemy's name.
"Look at you, lying at my feet. Like this, it's hard to believe you were Prophesized to kill me."

"The night is still young," Harry croaked, wincing at how sore his throat was from all his screaming.


Harry's body seized up with a new bout of unimaginable pain. His body arched off the cold, wet floor and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming. Blood flooded his mouth almost immediately and after about 20 seconds, he could no longer keep quiet and screamed until his throat bled.

Voldemort kept him under the curse for several minutes, gleefully watching the teen trash around next to his dead friends, splashing like a dying fish around in their blood. When he finally released the spell, Harry gave a sob of relief and went limp, breathing heavily as his nerves still screamed and his body still burned.

"Kill me," the young, defeated hero whimpered.
"Please, just kill me. I don't – I can't take this anymore."

Voldemort laughed coldly at the request, his Death Eaters soon joining in.

"So broken already!" the Dark Lord mocked.
"Perhaps this will be easier than I suspected."

With a quick swipe of the Elder Wand, now truly Voldemort's after he defeated the Boy Who Lived, Harry's clothes vanished, leaving the broken and abused teen bare for all to see. Harry flinched weakly, but didn't – couldn't move otherwise. He closed his eyes in horror, the numbing pain making him unable to do anything else about the situation. The Death Eaters only made it worse with their jeers and cat-calls. Harry really wished Voldemort would just let him die already.

"Crabbe!" Voldemort called out at his followers.
"You may have the boy first, as compensation for the loss of your son."

One of the cloaked and masked men stepped forward and bowed at his Lord.

"Thank you for this honour, my Lord," Crabbe said humbly.

Harry watched warily as the man approached him. He wished desperately that he could move more than just a finger, but his entire body had gone numb after being held under the Cruciatus curse for so long. He could do nothing but watch as Crabbe Sr. knelt down in front of him and took of his mask, revealing a wide and evil grin.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he growled.
"The Dark Lord is kind to allow me my revenge for my boy."

"He did that to himself," Harry croaked softly, glaring at Crabbe.

Crabbe's eyes darkened in anger and he struck Harry across the face hard, making the teen groan and whimper. His already cracked glasses skidded from his face, landing somewhere Harry didn't know where. He was roughly manhandled to lay on his back as Crabbe sat between his legs.

"… No…" Harry whimpered, shaking his head weakly.

Crabbe laughed cruelly and grabbed the back of Harry's knees, pulling his legs up and pushing his legs up against Harry's chest. Harry made a pained noise and lifted his arms with great effort and uselessly pushed against the man's chest. Crabbe just laughed again and pushed harder against Harry's legs, making the boy whimper.

"P-please, don't," Harry sobbed as he felt the man open his robes.

"Consider this payback, Potter!" Crabbe Sr. hissed as he positioned the head of his cock against the teen's virgin anus.

With that, he started pressing inside the tight hole. Harry closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, new tears beading in his eyes as he was slowly penetrated. He tried pushing against Crabbe's shoulders again, but he was still too weak and he couldn't even feel his arms yet. The man above him gave a slightly pained groan at the extreme tightness as he barely fitted his cockhead in the dry and previously virgin arse.

Crabbe Sr. tried to push in deeper, but Harry clamped down on his cock too hard, and the dry entry made movement painful for both willing and unwilling participants. When a sudden, warm wetness entered his bowels, Harry's eyes flew open again and he stared at the grinning man slowly penetrating in shock and horror. Crabbe pulled back a bit before shoving his prick in hard.

"ARGH!" Harry screamed, throwing his head back, clutching Crabbe's robes and tears streaming down his cheeks.

The Death Eater kept pushing in until his pelvis pressed against Harry's arse. The teen was loudly sobbing now as he felt his hole tear from the too large object. The man's smelly piss stung the new tears as soon as they were made, but at least he was now lubricated inside, making the pain just a little more bearable. Somewhere far away, he could hear the other Death Eaters laughing, calling him names.

The memory that there were other people watching was gone from his mind as Crabbe pulled back. Harry had hoped that the worst would have been over with the penetration, but the prick pulling out was just as terrible, worse even with the disgusting wet sucking noises it made. And halfway out, the man slammed back fully inside, making Harry wail in agony.

Soon, the man set a harsh pace as he fucked Harry roughly. Harry's back slid over the floor with every thrust and he had let go of Crabbe's robes with one hand to try and grip the floor to prevent himself from sliding away entirely. Crabbe just laughed cruelly and pressed his fingertips hard into the flesh of Harry's thighs as he folded Harry in two and leaned over him until he was breathing into the teen's ear.

"You feel all that sloshing inside your belly?" he asked.
"That's all you are now. Just a hole to fill up. Piss, cum, anything we feel like."

Harry whimpered and shook his head, making the man on top of him laugh cruelly and fuck him even harder. Harry squeaked when he felt the prick buggering him swell and pulse inside of him, right before Crabbe groaned loudly and released his cum deep into Harry's bowels. When he was finished, he stood up, his softening cock sliding out of Harry's slick hole easily.

Sobbing, Harry turned on his side and curled up, wincing as his arse stung fiercely. This was the worst that had ever happened to him, including the earlier torture session. He could feel liquids leaking from his abused hole and shuddered. Even if he could escape from this hell, he knew that after this, he would never be the same again.

"Well then," Voldemort spoke up loudly from his throne, making Harry glance over minutely.
"Since Crabbe is finished breaking in the entertainment, I'd like to invite anyone who wants to take the stage."

This was met with loud cheers and applause, making Harry tense in horror. His terror only heightened when he saw another masked and robed man approach him, smirk visible underneath the skull mask. Harry wanted to crawl away from him, but the torture and rape had left him too weak to try.

The stranger's foot pressed in his side and he was rolled over onto his stomach before the Death Eater moved behind him and pulled his hips up, forcing Harry on his knees while his head and chest stayed down on the cold, wet floor. A second later had Harry screaming again as he was forcefully entered by this new man.

His prick was thinner than Crabbe's, but longer and he seemed to reach much, much deeper into Harry's bowels. He also lasted several minutes longer than Crabbe had, but eventually, he too released his load inside Harry before shoving the teen away and moving back into the circle.

Harry was exhausted and in incredible pain. Tiredly, he glanced over to his friends. Most of them were staring in horror and disgust at what was happening to Harry, but others, like Cho, Ginny, Fleur and Hannah, had hidden their faces and covered their ears to keep everything out. Luna smiled shakily at Harry, probably trying to give him courage, but Harry knew she had been crying too, just like nearly everyone in their pathetic little group of survivors. At least they were still untouched. Harry hoped it would stay like that.

His mind snapped back to his current situation as he felt someone else press their prick against his arsehole. Harry whimpered, too tired and sore to make any more noise as he was once again penetrated. This one was smaller than the first two, and Harry was slowly going numb down there, so it didn't hurt as much anymore.

With already two loads of cum slicking his insides, the new man slid in without any resistance. Harry just lay still and let them use him for now. When this was over, he'd work on getting his strength back and free his friends. Even as he thought it, Harry knew how little chance he had to escape at all.

The man screwing him came and moved away, leaving Harry empty and leaking the spent of several men. The teen was panting hard, sweat coating every part of his naked body. He really hoped it was over, but with everything going on right now, Harry knew that would be too much to ask.

A gentle hand grasped his chin and pulled his head up. Harry blinked owlishly and looked up through tired eyes, recognizing the calm, emotionless face of Blaise Zabini. His ex-classmate pulled Harry up until he was kneeling in front of the bronze skinned Italian's feet. The Slytherin smirked and pulled his hard cock from his robes, pressing the leaking head against Harry's slightly parted lips.

"Don't bite down," the teen warned before thrusting into the wet cavern.

Harry choked almost immediately as the head of Zabini's prick made its way down his throat. New tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as his nose was pressed against his classmate's pelvis. Coarse pubic hairs made their way into his nostrils and cut off his air. His stomach heaved as his gag reflex was triggered, but he hadn't eaten in a while, so only acid tried to come up, only to be blocked by the prick still lodged deep in his throat.

At last, Zabini pulled back. He was grabbing hold of Harry's head with both hands and used that grip to force Harry to bob his head. Harry chocked and sputtered while trying to get used of the rhythm. It was hard, but eventually Harry got the hang of it and he was able to somewhat breathe again every time Zabini pulled back almost all the way.

After a few minutes, Harry was again shoved back all the way down on the prick in his mouth and a second after his nose bumped against a toned stomach, his mouth was being filled with a sticky, bitter liquid. It was thick and disgusting, but Harry had no choice but to swallow it down to prevent himself from choking on it. The taste was horrid, and Harry hoped it was over soon.

Even when Zabini was finished coming, he kept Harry's head in place. Harry could feel the penis slowly softening on his tongue and he glanced up confused, only to see a wicked smirk on Zabini's face. Then suddenly, his mouth was filled again with another liquid and he understood what Zabini had been waiting for. Closing his eyes against the humiliation, Harry swallowed the piss of his classmate down, knowing that he didn't have any other choice.

He had thought that the cum was the worst thing to taste, but the piss was easily ten times worse. It was lukewarm and tasted of ammonia. Harry had closed his eyes tightly and his face was contorted in a look of disgust that made Zabini laugh quietly before he finally pulled back. Harry immediately turned his head to the side and threw up under the thunderous laughter of the Death Eaters.

Somewhere to the side, he could hear someone yelling, but he was too caught up with emptying his stomach of its putrid contents as quick as possible. There was more commotion from the corner where his friends were and Harry slowly looked up, seeing Ginny standing up, being held back by Bill as she screamed to one of the Death Eater guards, tears in her eyes. Fred and George were being stunned by another one of the guards, meaning they likely tried to attack him as well.

"Harry," Voldemort spoke gently, making Harry's attention shoot over to him.

The Dark Lord was still seated on his throne where the teacher's table used to be before. The man was smiling at him and the sight made Harry shiver in fear. A happy Voldemort was never a good thing in Harry's experience. It meant someone else was in a lot of pain. In this case, Harry was that someone.

"Did you have enough?" Voldemort asked smirking.

"N-no.. no more," Harry whimpered, staring up to the man he vowed to take down.

"If you wish for this to end, crawl to me and show everyone how you submit to me."

Harry heaved himself back on hands and knees with great effort. He started crawling, gritting his teeth against the intense pain in his waist and lower back. He felt like someone was stabbing him with red hot knives and he winced violently. He barely had taken one step or his arms already gave out, making him flop back down. He closed his eyes and waited until the Death Eaters were done laughing before he tried again. It took him about 5 attempts, but at last, he reached Voldemort.

"Well?" the Dark Lord asked impatiently.

Harry tried to think of something to prove he had submitted to Voldemort, but really, hadn't the crawling been enough? He didn't see how much more submissive he could get without kissing the man's feet… oh… ohhhh.

Swallowing what was left of his pride, Harry bent down and kissed the hem of Lord Voldemort's robes. He could hear the shocked intakes of breath from his friends and the snickering of the Death Eaters and Slytherins. His cheeks burned in shame as he sat back on his heels, waiting for Voldemort to say or do something. Preferably kill him, or slit his own throat. That would be wonderful.

"Good," Voldemort praised, making Harry shiver in disgust.
"Now, I will give you a choice. Either you go back down there and become the cock-sleeve and toilet of my loyal Death Eaters, or you become my personal fuck toy."

Harry scowled. Neither of those options were preferable in his mind. He wondered if refusing would be possible. Anything would be better than being used by these people over and over again, even if it meant being in the perfect position for an assassination attempt.

"There is also a third choice," Voldemort continued, making Harry's head shoot up.
"You can watch while my followers rape and torture your remaining friends and then we will set you free."

Kill him, more likely. And like hell was he going to let his friends die! Harry gritted his teeth and glared down at the ground. There really was only one choice, and Voldemort knew that too. Harry sighed in defeat and looked back up at his enemy with tired green eyes.

"I choose you," he murmured softly.

"That is the right decision," Voldemort smirked.

It was, Harry agreed silently. At least like this, he would be close by Voldemort, which would give him the perfect position to strangle the bastard in his own bed. He would regret leaving Harry alive, Harry would make sure of that.

Voldemort grinned at him and gripped his hair, pulling him between his parted legs as he pulled out his pale, scaly cock from his robes. Harry swallowed nervously, wondering what the consequences would be to bite the man's cock off and whether it was worth dying over. It was, but it wasn't worth watching his friends die over, Harry decided. Sighing in defeat, Harry opened his mouth and leaned down, taking the head of Voldemort's prick between his bruised and chapped lips.

Harry slid down until the head of Voldemort's cock his the back of his throat before he slowly moved upward again, using his tongue to reluctantly rub the underside of the scaly monstrosity. Voldemort was bigger than any of his followers. Big enough even to make Harry's jaw ache horribly and the teen wondered absently if the man would be narcissistic enough to magically enlarge his prick just for the sake of being bigger than anyone else. Yes, he decided. Voldemort most definitely was.

Voldemort moaned softly and carded his fingers through Harry's messed up, sticky hair gently. Harry scowled at the kind touch, not liking it at all. Voldemort was supposed to hate him, beat him and hurt him. He was supposed to kill him, dammit! Why didn't he?

In his frustration, Harry forgot his task and care. His teeth scraped carelessly against the sensitive flesh in his mouth, making the hand in his hair tighten warningly. Harry winced, quickly covering his teeth and pulling back until he only had the head in his mouth before he hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard. The hand continued its gentle petting again as Voldemort moaned in appreciation.

Harry continued pleasuring Voldemort to the best of his limited abilities for a while. His jaw was now screaming against the strain of being kept open wide for so long, and Harry had to fight every instinct not to bite or pull away at the taste of Voldemort's pre-come on his tongue.

At last, he felt a tug on his hair, indicating he should pull away. Harry moved off the unnaturally thick and long cock. For a few moments, he was unable to close his mouth from the stiffness that had settled in his jaw after nearly 15 minutes of being forced to its widest. Because of that, when Voldemort grunted and came all over his face, some of it landed in his mouth. Harry made a disgusted face and lifted an arm to wipe the cum away, only for Voldemort to stop him.

"Leave it like that," the Dark Lord told him smugly.

Harry glared but obeyed. He was too tired to fight anyway. He'd get his revenge later.

"Lock the prisoners away. I and my new slave will be retiring as well," Voldemort ordered as he stood from his throne.

As Harry's friends were all led out of the Great Hall, Voldemort started walking out as well, motioning for Harry to follow him. Slowly, Harry started rising to his feet, only to be hit by a painful stinging hex from the Dark Lord, who glared at him.

"You will crawl, Potter," he said.

Harry glared hatefully, but did as told and followed Voldemort on his hands and knees. They walked to the headmaster's office, where Voldemort led him inside and ordered him to stay put as he pulled out his wand and aimed it at the large desk. The polished oak wood turned into iron bars, only leaving the top unchanged. Where the open space for the chair used to be was now a small door.

Harry's eyes widened in shock. When Voldemort had said he wanted Harry as a sex toy, he thought it would mean he'd have to share the man's bed, but here he was, being locked inside a cage that was too small to stretch out in, but large enough to leave him some space for movement. Harry struggled when Voldemort dragged him over to the cage, but it was useless as he was shoved against the top harshly and held down as Voldemort moved his own robes out of the way.

Harry whimpered softly as he was forcefully entered from behind, his eyes closed in pain and disgust. He was still loose and wet from earlier, but that wasn't enough to help him take the enormous girth of the Dark Lord. Voldemort quickly started moving, caring little for letting Harry adjust to his immense size as he fucked into the teen ruthlessly.

"Thoroughly used, yet still so tight," Voldemort whispered hotly in his ear.

"Go to hell," Harry grunted bitterly.

Voldemort laughed, cruel and high pitched as he paused for a few moments in his thrusting. Harry gritted his teeth against the vibrations the laughing caused. He tensed when Voldemort moved again, his cock sliding deeper into Harry as he leaned over Harry's back.

"You already are in hell, Potter," the Dark wizard hissed gleefully before he went back to fucking Harry.

For the longest time, Voldemort's grunts and Harry's pained whimpers was all that could be heard in the room before the Dark wizard pushed as deep as he could go and stilled. It felt as if the prick reached all the way into Harry's throat, so big it seemed to Harry. He bit his lip keeping in the sobs that wanted to escape as Voldemort's seed flooded his insides, along with the cum already in there from the other Death Eaters. When he was done, he finally pulled out.

Before the teen could recover from the abuse, he was hauled up and pulled to the other side of the desk, where the small cage door was wide open and he was shoved inside. Harry tried to fight, tried to get back out, but Voldemort just slammed the flat of his hand in Harry's face and pushed him backwards, making the teen topple over in the small space before closing and locking the cage. Harry whined and rattled the bars, glaring at the Dark Lord, who just laughed.

"When you're properly trained, I will use that desk for doing paperwork while you are still under there, pleasuring me," he told Harry.
"Get used to being in there, it will be your home from now on until I decide you can be trusted in my bed. Oh, yes, I know what you want to do to me, Harry."

Harry glowered at him and tightened his grip on the bars.

"One day, I'll kill you, Tom," he hissed.

"We'll see, little Harry," the man laughed before walking back out of the room.