Chapter Four: I Learned The Truth Too Late

6.9K 195 30
                                    

"Boy."

Uncle Vernon's words immediately set Harry on edge. He had been ordered to wait for him in his bedroom, kneeling on the hardwood floor, back straight, eyes facing the window, which still had the bars on it from the summer before his second-year at Hogwarts. The summer sunshine, which should've normally been a comfort, seemed to be mocking Harry as Uncle Vernon slammed and locked the door behind him; Harry did his best not to stiffen automatically as he heard the clink of his uncle's belt, which momentarily hit the floor, as he got it out from around his meaty middle, and flexed it between his massive palms and sausage-like fingers.

"Do you know why you're being punished, today boy?" Uncle Vernon hissed, his voice filled with as much loathing as he could muster, as his stout feet banged along the floor and came towards him. "You do know that much, don't you?"

"Because I'm a freak," Harry said, his voice soft, but loud enough for his uncle to hear him, and he knew it, too, for he heard him chuckle in pleasure behind him. Harry, who had been told to keep his hands, palm down, atop his bent legs, enfolded his fingers into his own palms, his nails biting the sensitive flesh there; however, he knew, deep down, that it would be a fraction of the pain he would feel at his uncle's hands.

"Very good," Uncle Vernon went on, stepping closer, the floor shuddering beneath his massive amount of weight. He smirked with glee as Harry took in a sharp breath at the sound of his belt buckle temporarily hitting the floor. "Straighter!" he shouted then, and Harry did his best to straighten his spine as far as it would go. "Good." He then held the piece of leather aloft in the air, the sun momentarily glinting on the buckle, and slashed it through the air, the resulting mark on Harry's back a moment of pure ecstasy for him.

Harry gritted his teeth, fighting back tears as Uncle Vernon continued the vicious assault upon his back. He considered egging him on, telling him he needed his back red and raw; anything beat getting raped by him. But Harry hadn't been asked a direct question; he'd been taught, for the most part, growing up to only speak when spoken to. As Uncle Vernon had said nothing to warrant a response, he'd been ordered, by omission, to keep silent. Rendered speechless, Harry raised his eyes upwards at the sun again, tears flowing from his green eyes behind his glasses, as he mentally counted the summer days, until such a time as he could return to Hogwarts. He would turn sixteen very soon, and although his "freaky little friends", as Uncle Vernon called them, would want to send him gifts, Harry had begged them not to, as he knew that they would be held before him as if he was one of Aunt Marge's dogs, before thrown on the fire, or destroyed by Uncle Vernon—or Dudley, as his cousin delighted in such a pastime.

Harry was hardly aware that Uncle Vernon had finished, other than the notion that his legs were threatening to fall asleep at any moment. He stiffened when the belt clattered, for the last time that day, to the floor, and Uncle Vernon caught hold of his hips, pulling him up so that he was now on his knees. He bit into his lower lip then, tasting his own blood, as Uncle Vernon pulled him closer still, and shoved his massive erection into his backside. Harry's eyes shut immediately then, bracing himself for the pain as he was stretched completely then. The hot breath on his neck and the groaning in his ear sent bile into his throat, but Harry knew well enough by then that, if he lost control, that it would be worse for him. If he did so, Uncle Vernon would threaten to shove his cock down Harry's throat, or worse, strangle him.

Harry forced himself to think of something else and the thought came unbidden to him as he opened his eyes. Black robes seemed to be hovering before him and, when they landed, he saw himself looking into the eyes of Severus Snape. Harry found himself shocked by this, as this dream was more of a memory than anything else, and he knew full well that his former Potions Master was not in the room during the assault.

EvermoreWhere stories live. Discover now