Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character or places from Harry Potter. Those belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.
Summary: During the rescue mission at the ministry, something goes horribly wrong for Harry Potter, and now, he's in the hands of a madman.
Warnings: anal, slash, dub-con, tent, bond, voyeur, and kinda shota (he's 15 in this)
Harry groaned as he slowly gained consciousness. The last thing he could remember was chasing after Bellatrix in the Ministry of Magic. He froze as he remembered Sirius death, and a tearful sob ripped itself from his throat. "It seems you are finally awake. Perhaps I should put less power in my stunning spells," a cold voice said from above. Harry's eyes flew open, but without his glasses, everything was blurry. "Good morning, Potter."
"Who…" Harry tried to get away from the voice, but found himself unable to move. "What's going on? Where am I? Who are you?" he demanded. He heard a dark chuckle, and he saw a blurry shape move closer.
"Don't you remember me, Potter?" A pale face loomed before him, but it was still too blurry for him to make out the details. "Perhaps I should remind you." A hand brushed against the fringe of Harry's hair and fingers tapped against his scar. He screamed as pain flared in his body. He immediately knew who this man was: Voldemort. "Do you remember now, Potter?" Voldemort sneered.
Harry remembered chasing Bellatrix into the floo-ports. She'd escaped into one of the fireplaces, her insane smile taunting him through the green flames. Then, he had heard the laughter behind him, and he'd turned to see Voldemort standing with his wand raised. Before Harry could react, he'd been hit with a stunner and knew no more. He glared up at the man as the memories replayed in his head.
"Dumbledore didn't arrive in time, I'm afraid," Voldemort chuckled. "And now, I have his little weapon, his little Golden Potter."
"Bastard," Harry snarled. Voldemort seemed to ignore him, and he heard the swish of robes as the other moved away. "Why haven't you just killed me?"
"What fun would that be?" Voldemort grinned as he reentered Harry's field of vision. He muttered something and suddenly, Harry's vision cleared and he was left staring at a man unlike the Voldemort he'd seen resurrected a year before. The man looked like a slightly older version of the Tom Riddle who'd appeared from the journal in Harry's second year. Voldemort must have seen his surprise, because he smirked. "Severus is rather handy, don't you agree, Potter? I have his potions to thank for my restored body." He turned toward something that Harry hadn't seen in the corner. There, a small clump of vines rested against the wall. "But my pretty face isn't why I restored your vision, Potter. I want you to see what I have in store for you."
"Is that…Devil's Snare?" Harry asked shakily. Voldemort was going to strangle him with a plant? That seemed rather weird, even for Voldemort.
"It seems you aren't entirely without a brain, Potter," Voldemort smirked. "This is Succulent Devil, a cousin of Devil's Snare. It has a rather…interesting talent." He trailed his fingers over one of the longer vines. The vine shot out and captured his wrist, only releasing him when Voldemort tapped the vine with his wand. "It can be controlled to do whatever I please." Harry stared at the plant with dread. Voldemort twitched his wand and the plant began to grow, its vines trailing toward Harry.
"I'll even give you a fighting chance," Voldemort said as he released the full-body bind on Harry. But before Harry could get feeling back in his legs, the vines had already ensnared his ankles. "Or not," Voldemort chuckled. Harry clawed at the vines as they climbed up his legs. His eyes widened when several vines began to travel up his pant leg. "Oh, you are in a predicament, aren't you, Potter?" Voldemort smirked.
"Stupid vines!" Harry hissed. He tried to kick the vines out of his pants, but the vines only increased their pressure until his legs were spread apart and immobile. His eyes widened as the vines caressed his inner thighs and he began frantically clawing at the vines holding his legs. Voldemort snorted and the vines encircled Harry's wrists, pulling his arms above his head. Harry struggled harder as the vines slowly circled his thighs, forcing them further apart. "Bloody bastard!" Harry shouted as the vines held him as immobile as the full-body bind.
"If you want me to stop, beg for it," Voldemort smirked at the bound Golden Boy.
"Never," Harry snarled. When Voldemort's smirk only grew bigger, Harry wondered if he'd made a terrible mistake. As the first tendrils of the vine slid across his cock, his eyes snapped to his crotch. "No," he shook his head in horror. "No!" He jerked as the vines wrapped around his cock and squeezed rhythmically. He could feel himself harden, and he renewed his fight to escape the vines. He clenched his jaw and glared at Voldemort. "You're sick!"
"I'm not the one getting off from a plant, Potter," Voldemort reminded him. The Dark Lord smirked as Harry tensed and his eyes widened almost comically. If the Gryffindor had been struggling before, it was nothing compared to the fight he put up as the plant moved along his arse.
"Bloody hell!" Harry hissed as the vine wedged between his cheeks and nudged against his entrance. "No!" he snapped. "You can't!" He felt other vines trailing up his spine and lifting him into s standing position. His legs were once again jerked apart as he struggled to close them. Voldemort stood a few feet from the struggling Gryffindor. "You can't do this to me!" Harry shouted as the vines on his ass began to enter him.
"Oh yes I can, Potter. Unless you want to beg me to stop," Voldemort grinned. When Harry only grit his teeth and shook his head frantically, Voldemort smirked. He twirled his wand as he stared at the writhing boy-who-lived. "However, it's not interesting if I can't see what's happening to you." He pointed the wand at Harry and whispered the spell. Harry felt his clothes shred and fall off, and he could only stare in horror at his reddened cock being pumped by the vine. "It seems you're enjoying yourself, Potter."
"Go to hell, you….AHHH!" Harry screamed as the vine forcibly stabbed into him. The vine twisted and nudged against his prostate, making his eyes glaze over. The vines encircled his chest, twisting and pulling at his nipples, making him cry out again. "Stop this," he panted. More vines joined the ones fucking him, and he screamed at the painful stretch. "Bastard!" Harry glared at Voldemort through the tears leaking from his eyes.
"It seems you are harder to break than I thought," Voldemort mused. "No matter." He leaned close and stared into the glazed emerald eyes. "I'll see how you're feeling tomorrow morning. Have fun." He laughed at the horrified expression on Harry's face as he walked out of the cell. Harry's shouts of pain and pleasure followed Voldemort out of the dungeon.
Harry let out a small whimper as the vines began to move faster and with more force. The vines continually stroked his prostate, making him dizzy with need. The vines around the base of his cock tightened as he felt himself reaching climax, denying him release. "No, please," he whispered. The vines on his chest pulled sharply at his nipples, making him gasp. Then, the vines seemed to change tactics, stroking gently against his skin. Still, the forceful thrusting against his prostrate continued, and he sobbed brokenly as his release was continually denied. "Merlin…please…" he cried.
The vine began to thrust more shallowly, barely brushing against his prostate. Harry shamelessly tried to thrust back onto the vine, trying to keep the contact, but the other vines held him still. He was so focused on trying to regain the previous pleasure that he didn't notice that the vine around the base of his cock had slowly retreated. Suddenly, the vines fucking him returned with a powerful forward thrust directed at his prostate. He screamed and came on the dungeon floor. As he came down from his organism, he realized that the vines were still within him. "What…?" he gasped as the vines began to move again. He shuddered and struggled uselessly. The vines held him tightly and he felt his erection returning. It was going to be a long night.
Voldemort vanished the image from the mirror and smirked as he picked up the glass of fire whiskey beside him. "That vine was a wonderful idea, Severus. Wherever did you find a living specimen?" he turned to the potion's master.
Severus smirked and held up his own glass. "Professor Sprout will no doubt be wondering where it went by tomorrow morning."
A/N: Please Review. Critiques are welcome, but no flames, please. May consider a second chapter if I get reviews for more.