Wisteria

Harry/Severus & Harry/Blaise

Warnings: Rape, abuse, slash (male/male pairings), violence, language, sexual situations… NOT KID FRIENDLY

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make money from the brand name. Most characters are JK Rowling's as well as Warner entertainment's property. I do not own nor do I intend to infringe upon licensing or copyrights.

Prologue:

This wasn't the first time, and the portion of Harry's mind which could still think knew it wouldn't be the last. His face was rough with dried blood and his hands stung from old stone walls. His legs shook as he climbed the seventh and last flight of steps to his dormitory. If Harry had tears left to cry they would have drowned all of Hogwarts.

His every muscle hurt the pain radiated from his backside.

"Popcorn." Harry muttered listlessly to a concerned portrait. Thankfully for Harry she kept her trap shut this once. He was so tired, and wanted a shower. He dreaded walking through the bathroom, the bruises he knew splattering his hips were probably black by now, and he had no wish to listen to haughty know-it-all mirrors with the sense of a turnip.

The showers were calling, and it wouldn't destroy any evidence of the crime because the wizard had already "cleansed" him thoroughly and degradingly. Harry obeyed. Harry always obeyed, for this was not his first master by a long shot and he had no wish to cause further harm to his person. So Harry wept on cue and scraped and bowed down to the cause of his torment because he had no other choice.

One may think they have choice in all aspects in life, but that one has never been raped or beaten. Nor have they had their will smashed to a glittering dust of what once was. Harry was but sixteen; however, he knew more pain than those five times his senior. Harry obeyed; therefore, Harry survived.

Harry took his shoes off before ascending the stairs stepping cautiously on bruised and broken toes. It was his own fault he reasoned. He quietly opened the door, wincing at every creak and flinching at every snore. It was nearly three in the morning and his dorm mates were well asleep. The brunette crept through to the showers and shut the door softly before locking it and stalking in front of at dirty mirror. Not forgetting to silence the impertinent image, Harry stripped slowly, fearful of further damage and what lay beneath the baggy rags.

His shirt could not be lifted, he found out that it hurt like a bitch and so he spelled off the offending piece of clothing. Finally naked in front of the looking glass he felt like sobbing; all over great dry heaves racked his being and his hands started shaking. He stood there a long while though, forced to look at the repulsive creature before him as was his own form of punishment. Rather it was his Uncles idea and Harry obeyed.

Great claw marks ran down his chest most welting some bleeding. His left side looked to him like an oil spill. Colors danced across his ribs and back the bruising swept over bony hips in a dark blot. His eyes were red and bagged, hollow from his numbness. His penis was wilted and abused, but his back was the worst.

Covered in long whip marks and cuts which reeked of alcohol his back was bruised in any spaces not occupied by blood. His rear was mottled gray and a bite mark graced the right of it. Matching marks were fond on his neck and color bones. But his wrists were bruised and tender and he was sure that the left one was broken. This relieved him a little.

Harry could heal the minor marks on his skin over the rest of the night but the larger ones would either need muggle stitches or a medi-witch or they would infect. Bones were also going to be difficult, but he figured he could wrap his left hand in gauze and that no one would say a thing about it. With his luck, which was terrible, all of Hufflepuff would adopt this as a trend.

Stepping back and into a shower Harry collected his thoughts while waiting for the water to heat. His body set on fire as the water hit it and Harry was ashamed to be turned on by the sensation.

'This is why it's my fault.' the boy thought as he was pelted by too hot water. Blaise was his boyfriend; Harry had to remind himself that Blaise had the right to sex.

It was rape; Harry wasn't stupid enough to believe otherwise. What do you say to that though? "Oh well, sir my boyfriend raped me!"

……….

This is the only author note I will make… No my other stories are not discontinued but I do not know when I will be able to think up more. I had the next chapters to all of them written and my computer crashed. I am terribly sorry.

If you like I will continue