Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to, I don't own any of the HP characters nor anything else which can recognized from either the HP books or movies. JKR is the brain behind those, not little old me.
Warning: This story will be non-graphic slash. If you don't approve please read another fanfic. Flames will not be appreciated.
Prologue: Return to Hell
It was late afternoon when the car pulled up the drive-way of no. 4 Privet Drive. Despite the silence throughout the journey from King's Cross Station to Little Whinging, Surrey Harry couldn't quell the feeling of apprehension he felt. Whether it was because of Uncle Vernon's dark purple face, a sure sign he hadn't taken kindly to the Order's threats earlier, or because of some other ill foreboding feeling Harry couldn't say. Shrugging internally the raven-haired youth pushed those feelings down mentally noting to himself to take extra care not to incise Vernon any more and be very careful in his dealing with his other relatives, after all his instincts had never let him down before. Vernon ordered him to take out his trunk and owl before the whale-like man left for the house. "Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied before heaving his extremely heavy trunk out of the car boot.
As soon as Harry set foot inside the house his instincts started screaming for him to run. Something was very wrong the house was a terrible mess, resembling a small battlefield rather than Aunt Petunia's pristine home. Bloodstains were everywhere, the pictures of Dudley that once hung proudly on the walls were smashed to pieces. Then, in the corner of the living room, he spotted Aunt Petunia or rather what was left of her. Dropping his trunk Harry made a mad dive towards the front door only to find Vernon blocking it with his massive body. With a sinister smile the man headed towards his nephew. Turning to try and make it to the kitchen door Vernon surprised him by quickly snagging him by the throat with a collar, it snapped close immediately. Now truly terrified Harry drew his wand and pointed it at his crazed uncle. 'Damn the consequences, I need to get out of here,' Harry thought frantically. Normally the whale-like Muggle would halt and stutter about him not being able to use magic during the summer, instead the man held an evil smirk and continued his advances. "STUPIFY!" Harry cried out louder than he would otherwise, his eyes widening when nothing happened. Smiling sinister Vernon pounded his fists into the defenceless teen. "Time to pay me for all the crap you put me through boy," Vernon said in a sickeningly sweet voice as he kicked the teen who lay huddled on the floor against the wall. Harry raised his arms protectively in front of his face, his entire body curled up like a ball in a futile attempt to protect himself. Harry James Potter may not have been as skinny and malnourished as when he had left the previous summer but he was still no match for his uncle. Vernon kept kicking him till he tired of it. Harry sighed inwardly thinking his uncle was done punishing him for some non-existent crime. Unfortunately for him Vernon had decided it was time to move on to some less taxing methods of punishment. Less taxing on his heavy body that is. Vernon drew his belt and gleefully whipped the already barely hanging on to consciousness Harry. Cackling madly as he watch the blood pouring out of gashes all over the raven-haired teen's body. Harry prayed he would pass out but sadly the collar Vernon placed on him was a magic-binding item and his magic kept him awake throughout his uncle's sadistic and sick plays. Tiring from the whip Vernon announced happily that 'since the Freak had been such an obedient boy, he would reward him'. Vernon ripped off Harry's clothes and held him, face-down, on the kitchen floor. He took one of the cutting knives from the drawer and carved the words 'FREAK', 'WHORE' and 'FUCK ME' onto Harry's back. "There, all done. Now Boy, I can't refuse an offer like that now can I," Vernon said, his eyes glittering in anticipation. That was all the warning Harry got before Vernon Dursley roughly entered him without preparation. That proved to much for the Boy-Who-Lived and he finally passed out. Whilst Harry was saved from experiencing the other horrors his uncle did to him in his act of violence, Harry also missed the arrival of his cousin and his best friends Piers Polkis and Blaise Zabini. Nor did he notice how the three teens bodily knocked Vernon unconscious, or that they pulled the fat Muggle as carefully as they could from him. Rape is a horrible enough of an ordeal for a muggle but Harry was a wizard. Defiling someone's innocence was a capital crime, punishable by slow and torturous death. It rarely occurred in the Wizarding World as the victim's magic would slowly die out. The only known cases to survive were those with creature-blood in their veins. During the Dark Ages, when rape was common, many old pureblood families married with a creature to protect their children. Raping minors was even more horrible as the teen would not even have the enhanced strength of his magical inheritance to support him. Most minors were dead within a few hours. "Sweet Merlin, Potter is never going to survive this," Blaise' voice was filled with sadness. "He has got to, if Potter doesn't survive the Dark Ages will start all over again," Piers sternly told his friends. "We need help. There has got to be some adult Harry trusts that isn't in the league with that old man. Who can we contact?" Dudley questioned, racking his brain for a name. Hedwig hooted loudly, drawing their attention to her. $$Thunder,$$ Dudley's pet snake hissed as she raised her head to look at him, $$The bird knows someone.$$ "Guys, Shakira says the owl knows who to contact," Dudley told them, his voice filling with hope. Blaise threw open Harry's trunk with a quick apology to the unconscious teen and dug around till he had parchment, ink and a quill. "Write," the Slytherin merely said as she trust her Muggle-raised friend the items.
To Whom this Letter is Given,
It has come to our understanding Harry trust you explicitly. As it is we need you to come over as quickly as possible to no. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Harry is gravely injured and none of us can do any magic because of the wards. We fear for his life, please hurry. Harry trusts you.
Bollocks, Potter has been defiled by his uncle. He is not responding. Said uncle is laying unconscious here for now. We will try to keep him that way till you arrive.
Blaise Zabini & Piers Polkis
Ps. If my cousin dies because of your lack of interest in the matter I will personally torture you within inches of death the Muggle-way till you beg for mercy. Trust me when I say I will show you the same compassion and mercy you have shown my cousin.
Dudley folded the letter and tied it clumsily to Hedwig. $$Thunder, shall I go with her as protection,$$ Shakira hissed. $$Yes, please do and make sure whoever receives this hurries.$$ Dudley watched his coral-snake coil loosely around Hedwig's neck before the owl flew off at neck-breaking speed.