Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

OK, so for those of you who are returning, you will find this a rather different chapter than before. I am in the process of reworking this fic because I found it not nearly as dark as it is supposed to be. Human trafficking is a scary and dark reality and I really wasn't doing it justice. So if the story gave you the willies before maybe you should reconsider reading it because it's about to get very dark.

Warning: This is rated mature for a reason! This story involves rape and drugs and possibly other things that my sick mind can make up. If you are going to flame me then why bother reading it?

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Harry glanced up from his homework when he saw a flash of light outside. However, it was gone before he had even a glimpse. He searched the streets but, seeing nothing returned to his charms. He was forced to do his homework in the dark of night, not only because it was wizard homework and therefore "freakish" but also for the fact that the Dursley's kept him extremely busy during the day with all sorts of chores. But Harry didn't mind. Not this summer at least.

Harry was glad for the distraction from his raging thoughts about the previous year. He could hear Cedric calling to him, blaming him for his death. Nobody would owl him on Dumbledore's orders so he felt extremely frustrated at not hearing anything from his world about Voldemort's return.

For now all he had was the gentle scratching of his quill on parchment to keep his thoughts away from less desirable things.

The night seemed cold for a June evening and Harry pulled his blanket around him. His room was the only room that the Dursley's didn't pay to heat. His thin white shirt and blue and red plaid pajama pants did little to help him in his drafty, barren bedroom.

His head snapped up when he heard a creak on the stairs. What was going on tonight? Was he just being paranoid? Harry shook his head thinking that he was becoming as suspicious as Mad-eye Moody. His quill had just touched the paper when he heard the creak again. Harry stared at the door, debating whether to go out and see what was going on. Instead, he nimbly rolled off the bed and pried up the loose floorboard that was underneath. He pulled out his wand and slipped it up his sleeve. He leaned over the foot of his bed and opened the trunk. He grabbed his wand holster and used it to strap his wand to his right forearm. He leaned back on the bed. Now, if his paranoia was accurate, then at least he was prepared. He dipped his quill in the inkwell and continued his essay.

The door then slammed open and Harry jumped, spilling his ink on the bedspread. He looked up and saw two men he didn't recognize at the door.

"Who are you?" He questioned. They didn't answer but ran forward grabbed him. Harry twisted around and jumped off the bed onto the floor. He pulled his wand out but one of the men stepped on his hand and it flew from his grip under the bed. He rolled on his back and saw another foot coming so he rolled over and stood up quickly.

Harry yelled but it did no good. One of the men grabbed both of Harry's arms behind his back and the other advanced towards him. Harry kicked his legs up and managed to get one good shot between the legs. This only seemed to make the man angrier and he stepped forward and backhanded Harry hard across the face. He cried out in pain and shouted towards the door, hoping Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, or Dudley would hear. Harry still kept fighting back. The man hit his face a few more times and kneed his in the gut. Harry had the wind knocked out of him and was seeing spots gazing dizzily at the floor. The men took this momentary sign of weakness as a chance to grab him. The man behind him wrapped one arm around his torso, pinning his arms down, and used his other hand to shove a piece of cloth in Harry's face. Harry was just beginning to get his second wind and took several large breaths. He realized too late that the cloth was soaked in something that was quickly making his drowsy. He fought for consciousness and he felt his stomach lurch as the world shifted around him and was turned upside down as he was tossed like a sack of potatoes over the man's shoulder. He groggily let his head hang as he was carried down the stairs. He lifted his head, which felt like it weighed a ton, to see the other man who was in the room handing a thick wad of cash to Vernon before shaking his hand. Then Harry lost consciousness.

Harry groggily began to open his eyes, wishing he could sleep for just a touch longer until he felt a rather uncomfortable bump in the road. Then his eyes snapped open as everything came back to him. He sat up quickly but almost immediately fell back cursing himself for moving too quickly. His stomach was tied up in knots from not eating and the drug had made him nauseous. He dry heaved a bit, rolling onto his side in case he did become sick but, luckily he presumed, there was nothing in his stomach to sick up. He laid there a few moments analyzing the situation.

He was in some sort of moving vehicle. How had he gotten here? He remembered being rudely ripped from his bed by two strange men…who were handed money by Uncle Vernon. His breath caught at the thought he had been…sold. His first thought was Voldemort but he immediately scratched that. These men had used a drug to knock him out, not a spell, and he was in a van which no death eater would be caught dead in, much less know how to operate. He looked around, still laying on his side to observe his surroundings.

It was completely barren. He slowly tried to sit up and found, with gently movements he was able to. He crawled around a bit, exploring the corners of the van. He didn't know what he was looking for, if anything. An escape, a weapon, anything. He backed himself against a wall and pulled his knees to his chest and felt tears stinging the back of his eyes at his seemingly hopeless situation. He had no wand, no ability to contact anyone in the wizarding world, and no idea where he was or was being taken. He didn't even know what time of day it was, the van having no windows. He felt tears beginning to escape his eyes when the van came to a stop.

He looked around frantically, as if looking for a place to hide but only shrunk further into a ball in his little corner. He heard doors open and felt the van shudder as they were shut. He prayed inside his head that they wouldn't come back here but he heard footsteps heading to the back and soon found the back door thrown open.

'Well, it's nighttime' was the first thought that came to Harry's mind. He was fairly certain that it wasn't the same night which mean that he'd been out a day at least. Then he got a closer look at his captors. They were two big, brutish men. One was bald with a rather large mustache, and the other had a full head of hair and a full beard. They were dressed in regular clothing; jeans, t-shirts, jackets. Harry assumed that it would help them blend in, but they would also be able to roughhouse with ease. That was the part that Harry was worried about as they began to climb inside.

Harry chanced a peek behind them, hoping that maybe somebody would see him but he discovered that these two men weren't complete morons and all he saw was forest. They were pulled off onto the side of the road of some deep woods back road that Harry was sure he would more that likely die in before he found a way out.

"See, I told you I heard him moving around" Said the bald one. He walked over to Harry and kicked him in the side. Harry flinched violently and curled up tighter, which was apparently the opposite of what the guy intended, since he kneeled down and grabbed his hair to lift his head up.

"My My, I can see why Daray wanted you. You are a pretty one" he murmured, running a finger down Harry's cheek. Harry shuddered violently and almost felt like retching again.

"Maybe we can stop for just a little while…"He trailed off suggestively, putting one of his hands on Harry's knees, the other still firmly gripping his hair.

"You know that Daray wants him virgin, I wouldn't mess with him." said the man with the beard.

"We don't have to fuck him to get some use out of him" said mustache man who was still stroking Harry's knee. The other man sighed and looked around before climbing into the back of the van and shutting the doors.

"This had better be quick, you know we have another pick up to make"

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure he'll cooperate. Won't you?" He said, tugging on Harry's hair assertively. He felt even more tears leak out of his eyes and looked at the other man who fingered the gun in his waistband. He closed his eyes and nodded his head.

"Good boy. " He released his killer grip on Harry's hair and instead petted it as if he were a dog. He tugged on Harry's hands so that they were removed from where they had been encircling his legs. He then yanked, pulling Harry forward and he fell over slightly sideways until the man grabbed his hair again. Harry yelped painfully as he was hauled up onto his knees, the mustache man now standing. He released Harry and his hands moved to his belt.

Harry wanted to be sick. His mind was running a mile a minute trying to think of ways to over power these two to get out of this horrifying nightmare. He summed up what was left of his Gryffindor foolishness and made a break for the door but a kick to his back sent him sprawling. He felt a hand grab his ankle and drag him back while he kicked and hollered, grabbing at the floor as if he might take hold on something. He was violently flipped over and hauled up by the front of his shirt.

"That was really stupid kid" the one with the beard said before smacking Harry with all of his might, knocking him onto his side. The man landed one good kick to his stomach before stopping as his partner, mustache man, reminded him of the condition he was supposed to arrive in. All of this made no sense to Harry and he laid on the floor before he was roughly pulled up again.

"Now you better cooperate and shut the hell up, I don't care whether Daray wants you or not, I'll put a bullet right through your pretty little head." threatened mustache man. Little did Harry know that this was an empty threat as if these two men didn't deliver him they would be the ones with bullets in their heads. However he didn't know this and just nodded, back on his knees again as the man undid his trousers. All he could do was sob harder until he was smacked in the side of the head and told to shut up. He looked at the penis in front of him, unbelieving of what he was about to do. He felt a hand grab his jaw and tilted his head upwards where he saw the man glaring down at him.

"You bite me, and I won't hesitate to beat the living shit out of you. Remember that."

He lowered Harry's head back down and Harry stared, unsure what to do. The man grabbed his hands and put them on his hips and held them there for a moment before he let go, knowing Harry would leave his hands there, and grabbed Harry's head with one hand and pushing it towards his penis, the other hand directing it to Harry's mouth.

Harry opened his mouth and slowly began sucking on the tip, wanting to have as little of the body part in his mouth as possible. But mustache man was not having it and shoved himself roughly in a few inches. Harry gagged a touch but had nothing to sick up so the man kept thrusting and muttering things at Harry as he brought himself closer.

He finished soon enough, through it seemed like a lifetime to Harry, and stepped back tucking himself back in as Harry lowered his head, crying and wiping the cum off of his chin. He moved to curl back up again until mustache man spoke back up.

"Don't think you're done little boy. Remember there are two of us" He smirked and the man with the beard stepped forward. Harry looked up warily as beard man took the gun out of his waistband and handed it to mustache man before undoing his trousers. Harry glanced at the gun and moved to get back on his knees.

A while later the men returned to the front of the van and left Harry laying on his side sobbing and feeling disgusting. The two men came back around and Mustache man grabbed him and laid him down in the back of the van and Harry saw beard man coming forward with a needle. He began fighting and yelling but mustache man just smacked him until Harry was dizzy and stopped. He felt the needle prick his arm and felt himself becoming drowsy.

"That oughtta keep him out until we get to France."

'France!?' Harry thought frantically but before he could think anymore about it he was drifting off into his nightmares.

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Alright, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, keep on reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Ok the new and improved Chapter Two!!

_French is in Italics_

If they're French and speaking English, imagine it's in a French accent because it's really difficult to write and, knowing from experience, annoying to read.

Warning: This is rated mature for a reason! This story involves rape and drugs and possibly other things that my sick mind can make up. If you are going to flame me then why bother reading it?

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Harry groggily awoke once more to a sharp bang on his head. He winced and blearily opened his eyes. 'I have got to stop waking up like this' he thought. Then the previous day came rushing back to him. His eyes snapped open and he at least remembered enough not to sit up right away. He stared at the ceiling lost in thought.

He was nauseated at the thought of what had transpired last time he had awoken. He felt disgusting and could still taste the rancid seed in his mouth. He wondered if they were going to make him do it again.

Where were they taking him? All he knew was that they said they were headed to France. Were they already in France? He chanced moving his head and tilted it to the side and looked around. His view was limited but he could tell he was in a different van. This one seemed even smaller and it had windows but they had been blacked out with paint. He chanced sitting up but he didn't want to make too much noise, for fear that they would hear him in the back and stop again. Once he was sitting he slowly and noiselessly slid back against the wall. He looked to his left and shouted loudly in alarm.

There was a girl in the corner with her knees to her chest peering over them in fear. Harry had been surprised to see anyone in the van. He paused, frozen in fear, waiting for the van to stop. But all he heard was some muffled shouting and a fist banged on the wall separating the back of the van from the front. He assumed they were just yelling to shut up but they weren't going to stop. He let out a sigh of relief.

He looked back over to the corner back at the girl who squeaked and hid her face in her knees again. He sighed and looked her over. She was in her pajamas as well, just a thin t-shirt and pants. Harry assumed she had suffered the same fate as he had, being torn from bed at night. He just pulled his knees up and began thinking of ways to escape.

Then it a thought occurred to him. He looked over at the door. Perhaps…he slowly shifted to his knees, glancing fearfully at the wall, hoping not to hear any banging, and slowly began making his way over to the door. He felt the eyes of the girl following his movements. He reached up towards the handle. It was so simple…He grabbed and turned. He felt it hit the lock. He sighed exasperatedly.

"It was worth a try" He murmured. He had hoped that the men were absentminded or perhaps thought he would be unconscious so it wouldn't matter if the door was locked. He felt his hope slowly draining out of him but he refused to back down. He crept back to his corner. There was nothing he could do at this point, he would just have to try again when another opportunity presented it self.

He heard whispering from his left so he looked over to see the girl looking at him.

"Er…I'm sorry what did you say?" He asked. She repeated herself…in French. Harry sighed.

"Sorry, I don't speak French" He said looking down at his knees, thinking the conversation over, with the language barrier. He was surprised when she spoke again.

"Where….where are they taking us?" she asked, looking unsure of her words. He overcame his shock at hearing her speak English and stumbled to answer her.

"Well, I don't know…the only thing they said was they were taking me to France."

"But….we are in France." the girl said looking at him curiously. Harry's eyes bugged out. What? How had they gotten him across the channel? Was he still even with the same men who had taken him before? His mind whirled with these thoughts. He had been out for quite a while then if they had managed to reach the border and they somehow managed to smuggle him onto a boat to get him across the channel and then into another van. He felt tears prick his eyes once more. He was only getting farther and farther away from home and any chance of getting out. The girl looked alarmed at Harry's undoing and asked one more question. One Harry had asked himself a million times since being taken.

"What do they want with us?" she asked shakily. Harry looked up with her. He was starting to get an idea. He had heard about this when he would hide in the flower beds to listen to the news. Young girls stolen from their beds at night. Or girls who went on vacation and never came back.

Trafficking. It was a disgusting new trend. Lowly scum of men looking for young illegal bodies to lie with. He shuddered at the thought, hoping he was wrong. But his earlier encounter with his captors did not seem like very good foreshadowing of what was to come. He looked up at the girl once more to see her looking at him imploringly. His heart ached and he knew he couldn't bring himself to scare the wits out of this girl. He could protect her, if only for a little while until he no longer could.

"I…I don't know" he lied, looking away. She nodded and looked back down at her knees. Harry stole a glance back at her and saw her auburn hair falling, covering her face and her, Harry was sure, blue eyes. She looked to be about the same age as him, 14...maybe 13.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Aimee." she replied "_et toi…_and you?"

"I'm Harry." He answered. "Do you have any idea where in France we are?"

She looked pensively at the floor of the van.

"They…took me from my home in Calais" she whispered slowly, thinking about how to say what she wanted in English. "It has been a few hours at least but I don't know which direction they are headed. Probably Paris, and if that is true then we are very close."

They both sat in silence, wondering if at any second the van would stop and they would be ripped from their little hovel. Aimee glanced up at Harry several times as if she were about to ask something but though better of it. Finally she got up the nerve to speak again.

"Where are you from?" She asked timidly.

"Oh er, Surrey" He responded. At her confused glance he elaborated. "England" Her eyes widened a little.

"Wow." she said, looking into his eyes. "You must be sad to be so far from home"

Harry looked down. He muttered a small "yes" before getting lost in his thoughts. Aimee took this as her cue to be quiet so the two sat in silence stewing in their own thoughts.

It was approximately an hour later (not that Harry or Aimee had any concept of time) that the van screeched to a halt once more. Harry's head snapped up and he stared at the back door of the van, praying once again that they wouldn't come to the back. Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he knew that at some point eventually they had to come back here, if only to retrieve them once they reached wherever they were taking them. The van shook with the shock of the doors being slammed shut and he heard one set of footsteps walking away from the van and he allowed himself a sigh of relief before the door was thrown open. He had somehow missed the steps coming towards the back of the van. He was unhappy to find that he was still a captive of mustache man and the man with the beard, the latter was a few yards back from the van relieving himself on a tree. He was also saddened to notice that, once again, it was nighttime and they were on some sort of back road. Mustache man stepped up in the back of the van. He glanced over at Aimee who huddled into her little ball. He just chuckled and walked over to Harry. He grabbed him and dragged him towards the door where the man with the beard, apparently finished had arrived and was climbing up just as his partner was climbing down. Mustache man yanked Harry's arm, pulling him down from the van causing Harry to yelp which earned him a cuff on the ear. Still holding on to his arm he dragged him a few feet into the woods before he stopped. Harry glanced up at him.

"Do your business, I won't have you pissing in my car" said Mustache man. Harry paused a moment to see if he would let him go but it appeared he had no plans of releasing Harry's arm. He didn't really have to go, but he had already begun to learn the lesson of what happened if you didn't follow orders. He grabbed the waistband of his pajama pants hesitantly with his right hand, his left still being held captive and out of reach. He kept glancing out of the corner of his eye at mustache man who was staring right at him. He reached inside his pants slowly before mustache man made an annoyed sound. To Harry's surprise and embarrassment, mustache man switched the arm that was holding Harry's to his left hand, slid behind Harry and reached around with his right. He jammed his hand right into his pants and grabbed at Harry's penis, pulling it out. He leaned forward and Harry shivered when his mustache brushed his ear.

"You'd be best to get rid of this shyness cause plenty of people are going to be looking at you soon enough" He whispered.

Harry began shaking, a few stray tears falling down his cheeks. 'God, why can't I stop crying anymore!' he berated himself. He pulled himself together and found that the man was still holding his penis and standing uncomfortably close to him. He reached his right hand forward to grasp himself to "do his business" but the man, once again, seemed like he had no intention of letting go. So, humiliated, Harry simply begin peeing. He felt like a small child just out of diapers. He was actually even shocked that he had anything in him, as he hadn't had any food or drink since he had been taken which, he guessed, had been at least two days ago. But he just assumed that it had something to do with the drugs that he had been put under. When he finished the man shook him, taking an extra few fondles before he tucked him back into his pants. He turned him around and Harry saw Aimee being pulled out of the bushes by the man with the beard, her cheeks burning red. The man dragged Aimee back to the van and pushed her inside before shutting and locking the door. Harry was confused but was jerked out of his stupor when mustache man changed directions and pulled Harry towards the cab of the van. He climbed inside and pulled Harry in after him tugging him to sit on his lap, slamming the door as the man with the beard climbed in the drivers side. Harry just looked at the floor from his spot on mustache man's lap until he moved him.

Mustache man pushed Harry backwards until he was laying on the seat with his head in the other man's lap and his legs draped over mustache man's legs. He stared at the ceiling trying to ignore where he was and what was going on as mustache man shifted and parted Harry's legs settling between them and laid over top of him, squishing him in the already cramped cab. Harry looked at mustache man fearfully as fresh tears began coursing down now familiar track lines. Mustache man just stroked his cheek and the man with the beard began stroking his hair. Harry felt nauseous at the feeling of the erections of the older men poking him in the thigh and head.

Mustache man was the first to move. He pushed Harry's shirt up and was groping his chest and running his hands over his flat stomach which was smooth like porcelain. He then tugged Harry's pants down to around his knees and ran his hands over his thighs and private area. Harry was blushing red all over. Mustache man flipped him over and hoisted his bum up a little so that he was on all fours now.

"Now remember what boss said" the man with the beard reminded mustache man.

"Don't' worry" said mustache man before he opened his trousers and pulled his penis out once again. Harry's breath was coming in frantic pants, freaking out over the situation. The man with the beard grabbed Harry's shoulders and pushed them down so that they were touching the seat and his cheek was pressed against the leather. Mustache man spat in his hands crudely and began stroking himself. He spat several more times coating himself in a disgusting excuse for lubricant. Then he eased himself forward and shifted on his knees so that both of Harry's legs were between them. This enabled him to push Harry's thighs together tightly and hold them there. Then, he shoved his penis between Harry's thighs, right where they joined his body. So he began a twisted parody of fucking Harry. Now, although he wasn't actually fucking him, this was of no comfort to Harry who was still sobbing freely even as his hips were grabbed to meet mustache man's over and over again. Mustache man finished squirting hot cum onto Harry's stomach. He pulled Harry's pants up and turned him over. He pulled Harry's shirt down and rubbed it around wiping the cum off of Harry's stomach. Not that it being on the inside of Harry's shirt was any better.

A few minutes later found Harry kneeling on the floor of the cab between the man with the beard's legs with his head being pushed to his revealed cock. Harry took it into his mouth but soon found that he was less inclined to thrust into Harry's mouth as his partner was. He pushed Harry's head up and down a few times before letting his hand just card through Harry's hair as he bobbed up and down until he finally came. The man with the beard had barely tucked himself back in before Harry was ripped up and dragged back to the back door once more. He was thrown in and fell to the floor, barely seeing the point in sitting up. He heard the two men converse quietly for a few moments.

"Where should we head to now?"

"I think we've driven around enough to throw anyone off our trail, I say we head straight for Paris now"

"Should we put them under?"

"Nah, we're only about an hour out, there'd be no point. Daray will want them awake to look at them right away."

Then the men were back in the front and the van was moving again. So avoid sliding all over the van, Harry eventually hoisted himself up and crawled back to his corner. He curled up and stared at the ground for a while before chancing a glance at Aimee.

She was staring at him sadly but also in shock. Harry knew what she must have heard and felt. She obviously would have been able to feel the van rocking as they fucked him and heard the moaning. Which reminded Harry he hadn't really cleaned himself off and he subconsciously wiped at his mouth which did have a little bit of cum that had dribbled out. He looked away, his cheeks coloring and he was sure he would have felt tears stinging his eyes if he hadn't already cried most of his tears. He hadn't even had the energy or the will anymore to try and formulate an escape. He glance back at Aimee and saw one last thing.

Fear.

Harry knew that she saw herself in his eyes. She saw what she would become soon, nothing more than a plaything. Harry looked away once again ashamed of what he had let himself become. Nevermind the fact that he was only 14 and was up against brilliant, dangerous underground folk. The two men who had captured him obviously weren't brilliant, head honcho material but he knew about the kind of men who ram trafficking schemes. Why do you think they had never been caught? Because they were devious, dangerous and had connections everywhere. Harry doubted truly that he would ever see the light of day again. Because out here he wasn't the boy who lived who everyone knew and recognized. Out here he was just another nameless face who no one would look twice at. And he was sure nobody would. The entire final stretch of the ride elapsed in complete silence until the van screeched to a halt. Harry heard the familiar feet walking around to the back of the van and was not surprised to see his two captors there once more to drag him away. The man with the mustache pulled Harry while the other one grabbed Aimee. They paused when they grabbed them and glared menacingly.

"One sound…and you'll wish you had never been born." Said the man with the beard before they were led out of the van. Harry saw why they were so adamant. For the first time they weren't in the forest. They were in the city and it was clearly not the upper end. There were homeless and hookers in view. Downtrodden liquor stores with half lit neon signs lit up the street as well as one or two skin clubs. But Harry didn't know what any of the signs meant, as they were in French. His eyes eventually slid to the building they were being pushed towards. It was sort of sunken in, as if it were trying to be inconspicuous. The only thing Harry found odd about it was the windows. There were four; three of them had pink curtains in them and the fourth was actually bare. But Harry saw a flash of activity and glanced up at the bare window again and saw a blue curtain being put up. He was then torn out of his thoughts as he was shoved roughly up the steps and inside. Where the door slammed shut behind him.

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Alright the new and improved chapter two is up!!! I hope to have the new chapter three up by Sunday but don't hold me to that. If this is your first time reading this fic feel free to continue, but realize that the rest of the story, while following the same plotline, will be slightly different and not quite as well written.

Review and let me know what you think of the new chapters!!!


	3. Chapter 3

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French is in Italics!

If somebody speaks French and is speaking English just pretend it is in a French accent because it is annoying both to write and read.

Warning: This is rated mature for a reason! This story involves rape and drugs and possibly other things that my sick mind can make up. If you are going to flame me then why bother reading it?

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Harrys head turned reflexively when he heard the door slam behind him. When he looked forward again he noticed they were in some sort of lobby, it was rather nice looking. Based on the posters hanging up it seemed like a law firm of sorts. He glanced over and saw what looked like a waiting area with fiscal magazines on the table and there was a secretarys desk in the corner that was currently empty. They were quickly whisked through an inconspicuous door on the left and were met by a stern looking man who looked like he had never smiled in his entire life. The kind of man that some people would assume was born already an adult. He made a come forward gesture and the small group moved forward. The man grabbed Aimee and peered at her face. He then lifted up her shirt and poked at her ribs before turning her around and doing the same for her back and spine. Satisfied, he grabbed Harry. Peering into his face he frowned. Then he lifted up his shirt and poked at Harrys ribs. One particularly rough poke elicited a small hiss from Harry which made the man frown even more. He looked up at mustache man and the man with the beard.

_"This one has been roughed up. Why?"_ He asked with a questioning glare.

_"He was difficult. It took a while for him to learn the rules."_ replied mustache man.

_"This boy was particularly testing so we had to instill obedience." _the man with the beard chimed in. The stern mans forehead wrinkled in thought and he looked at Harry again. Harry quickly lowered his head. This seemed to please the stern man.

_"Very well, he does seem obedient and nothing seems broken or permanently damaged. I shall tell Daray you did well."_ the man said. And with that he withdrew an envelope and handed it to the two men. They quickly opened the envelope and counted the large amount of cash inside. Satisfied, they turned and left. The man walked behind Harry and Aimee and pushed them forward, directing them down a series of corridors which were grimy and not at all like the finely furnished lobby they had entered through. Eventually they came to a set of rickety looking stairs that they were directed down. They were met with an extremely dirty looking basement with several girls lined up in front of several sets of dilapidated bunk beds. Many were crying and looking around in fear leading Harry to believe that they were just brought here as well.

There was a man standing in front of them smoking a cigarette. He slowly turned around and Harrys heart clenched in fear. This man exuded power and elicited fear out of everyone. He had tousled brown hair and cold grey eyes. He glance up at the stern man.

_"You are late."_ He said simply

_"My apologies, Daray. The delivery just arrived."_ The man said. Daray nodded and gestured for them to join the line, barely glancing at them. He looked back at the girls.

_"Alright listen closely,"_ Daray began looking to his left. Harry followed his gaze to a few tough looking men who Harry presumed worked for Daray _"Starting from the left: the first three girls are to go to Prague, the next one to Madrid, and the next one Denmark. These two will stay here."_

Harry had no clue what was going on, but he saw Daray gesture to him and Aimee at the end of his sentence and he felt Darays eyes linger on him before turning back to his men.

_"Now!"_

The men scrambled to grab the girls and pull them out back up the staircase. Harry and Aimee just stood still, not knowing what to do. Daray walked over to them once the other girls had gone. He brushed his hand through Aimees hair.

_"You will make a nice addition to my collection."_ He murmured. Harry didnt know what he said but it made Aimee burst out into new sobs. Then Daray turned to Harry. He tilted Harrys head up to be able to see his face better in the dim lighting. He smiled.

_"Harry. You are prettier even than the picture your uncle sent me. I am sure you will be a sound investment."_ He said brushing Harrys cheek before running his hand through Harrys hair. Daray shouted something over his shoulder and the stern man stepped forward.

_"I want these two examined and then photographed for the book, do the boy first and then take him to my rooms. The girl can come back here when finished."_ And with that Daray was gone, back up the stairs, followed by Harry with the stern man.

He was pulled into a small room that looked a little like an office, with a large oak desk. Only the desk was completely bare. Harry was shoved into the room and pushed up against the wall. There was suddenly a flash of light and Harry winced. He opened his eyes and saw the stern man with a Polaroid taking the photo out. He put the photo down on a small table in the room. Harry was grabbed again and pushed until he was sitting on the table.

All this pushing and shoving was not doing anything for Harrys stomach which hadnt ingested anything but sperm for two days. He was constantly being jerked, grabbed, yanked, and having his hair pulled. Speaking of hair, the stern man had both of his hands in Harrys and was peering closely at Harrys scalp. Once he seemed satisfied he yanked Harrys head back and pulled his mouth open. Harry struggled to not gag and the man pulled at his lips trying to look at all of his teeth. He snapped Harrys jaw shut and reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a penlight. He shined it in Harrys eyes performing what Harry could only assume were some sorts of tests. He would shine it in one of Harrys eyes then remove it, then shine it in again, and remove it and then do the same to the other eye. Harry was so confused. The man grabbed Harrys wrists and rotated them so that he was palms up. The man peered closely at his forearms, running his fingers over them. Harry didnt know what he was looking for but he seemed satisfied and let go.

The man then yanked on the hem of Harrys shirt and Harrys arms instinctively flew up over his head and the man tugged the shirt off of him. He then pulled Harry off of the table and flipped him around. Before Harry registered what was happening the man grabbed the waistband of Harrys pants and tugged them down. Harry felt a hard cold hand at his neck that was pushing him down. The hand tightened so he thought it best to comply and found his face smashed against the oak desk he was now bent over. His face burned as he was grasped in his most private of areas for what seemed like the hundreth time in two days. He yelped when he felt a finger roughly shoved in him. He squirmed uncomfortably, crying out which just earned him a smack on the ass. Harrys face burned now in humiliation, being spanked as if he were nothing but a child. He heard the man shout something and the door opened and he heard shuffling of feet and guessed that at least one other person had entered.

When he was lifted up and turned around he realized he was right. The newcomer looked a lot stronger than the stern man, who had gone back over to get the camera. The strong man pushed him back on the desk where Harry writhed uncomfortably due to the coldness and the awkwardness of his full exposure. The strong man pushed him back, following directions Harry had no hope of understanding from the stern man. He was pushed back, lying fully on the desk on his back and a picture was snapped. The stern man moved and snapped another picture from a different angle. Then the strong man sat him up and grabbed his neck, forcing him to look forward where the stern man was taking a close up picture of his face. He was then hauled up and pushed against the wall. Harry awkwardly crossed his arms slightly so that his right arm was grabbing his forearm and looked at the ground hearing another snap. The strong man rotated him to his side where another photo was taken and finally one with Harry facing the wall. Finally they seemed satisfied.

Where this little photo shoot session had come from, Harry had no idea. In fact, although it was extremely uncomfortable and intrusive, Harry found it almost silly. He had barely noticed that the stern looking man had left until he came back with a worn looking rucksack. He began pulling out clothing and shoving them at Harry piece by piece and talking to him, but about what he was unsure. When the man was finished, Harry stood there with a few articles of clothing in his hands, a rucksack sitting on the table, and a confused expression on his face looking like he may break out into tears at any moment.

But, to be truthful, he hadnt cried since they had been taken from the van. Perhaps Harry was already becoming numb to the treatment and had already given up on escape. But that wasnt like Harry Potter at all. Harrys mouth reset itself into a firm line. He would find a way out of here. He wouldnt give up. Harry had no idea the challenge he took up. Far stronger people than he had been broken in this underground world. There were ways of making you stay. But Harry had no clue of this. He merely strengthened his jaw, dropped the clothes to the floor and said, "No."

Harry yelped much like a kicked dog when his face hit the wall. But it was the other side of his face that hurt more, as the force of the hand that backslapped him had to be very strong to knock him into the wall in the first place. He supported himself against the wall, groaning with a few tears prickling his eyes. So there they were. Well the fight wasnt out of Harry yet. He was flipped around with his back now to the wall staring at two very angry men.

Something struck a chord in Harry. These men could very well kill him. He meant nothing to them. To them, he wasnt the boy who lived or even Harry. He was just a boy who was pushed into the black market. They probably saw boys like him every single day. They didnt have the fate of their world resting on his shoulders or, on the other side, hatred at him for destroying their leader. Where normally Harry would love this anonymity, it was what would get himself killed in this world. He thought of Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, and all the people of the wizarding world. Would these two men kill the only shot an entire world had at survival? Voldemort had just returned a mere two weeks ago. Was Harry strong enough to condemn himself to this horror house long enough to be rescued just so that he could potentially defeat Voldemort?

It seemed almost too much to him. His options were; keep fighting and potentially get killed, ruining any chance everybody he loved and cared about had at living or give in and pray to God that somebody found him. His shoulders slumped as the men continued to shout at him in French. Hopelessness sunk in. Harry decided. He would go along with this charade, play the defeated, broken child, and wait until somebody found him.

Little did Harry know that within a few short weeks he would not have to pretend anymore. Because this feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that nobody cares anymore and that you are good for nothing would set in all by itself. It always does.

But Harry didnt know this. All he knew was that he had to stay alive until he was found. So he looked up at the two angry men and tried to think of the basic French lessons hed had in grammar school.

"ar-arrete, sil vous plait!" Harry cried. The two men stopped yelling and looked at him curiously. Harry struggled to remember anything that would help him.

"Je...oh christ...je ne parle? Yes je ne parle pas bien Le Francais" Harry stumbled through the broken sentence but it seemed to have done the trick. The stern man rolled his eyes and picked up the clothes.

"Well then," again he began handing Harry clothes. The first item was a pair of grey boxer briefs which, looking at the size, Harry noticed would be rather tight on him "You wear those when you are working. These, you wear whenever." he handed Harry a simple pair of grey sweatpants, a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a light fabric red zip up hoodie. The two men left the room but shut the door behind them. Harry paused before slipping on the boxer briefs. Harry winced a little as he realized he had been right about the size. Before he put his jeans on he looked at himself in them. He realized quickly why he was to wear them while working. the tightness of the boxer briefs outlined his bum and other manly bits and clung to just the tops of his thighs. He shook his head and put the rest of his clothes on, holding on to the sweatpants. He stood awkwardly in the room before the door opened and the man gestured him to come forward. Harry stepped forward with his head down and he was led by a strong hand on his shoulder through some hallways before they stopped in front of a door which was knocked on. As soon as he was done knocking the man left, leaving Harry standing there like a package. Harry didnt have the nerve to look up when the door opened. He felt a hand on his chin lifting his head up and he looked into the cold gray eyes of the man from earlier.

"Hello Harry." the man said in a thick French accent "My name is Daray."

He pulled Harry inside and shut the door behind them both. Harry looked around for a moment and realized quickly that they were in what must have been Darays bedroom. He felt the man circling him like a vulture. Then Harry felt a cold long finger stroke down his face and a thumb rub across his cheek.

"There is no crying here" Daray said, looking into Harrys entrancing green eyes, "When one of my contacts told me that there was a man with a boy he'd like to sell, I was hesitant to import all the way from England. It could raise some alarms. But when he showed me your picture, I just knew I had to have you. You know, you are one of the prettiest young boys I have ever seen. You will make many of my customers very happy."

Harry was struggling to hold back tears once more. It was so unfair. Of all the people in the world, this had to happen to him. Hadnt he already had enough hardship in his life.

"People will look for me"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop him. Daray stopped moving abruptly. Harry cursed himself. What had he just decided? Stay Alive. That would be extremely difficult if he pissed off the leader of a black market human trafficking ring. He chanced a look at Darays face and was confused when all he saw was amusement.

"They all say that" was all he said before he walked across the room and shuffled in his drawers for something. "You know, everyday girls come through here convinced that they can escape. I wouldnt recommend it. You see you must remember that I own you. And I dont buy something until I have a certificate of ownership." At this point Daray walked back over, clutching some papers in his hands. He held them up in front of Harry. "Here are yours"

Harry stared in horror at the first sheet. It was a list of all his information. At least, all his information that Vernon knew about. His full name, address, doctors office, Mrs. Figgs address, the street that Harry knew the Leaky Cauldron was on, and Harry blanched when he saw the two addresses of his best friends; The Grangers and the Weasleys. How Vernon had gotten that information, Harry had no idea but it was there and Harry knew it was accurate. Then Daray shifted the papers and Harry was staring at pictures of Hermione in her house through a window, dated just two days ago. He looked and saw one of Ginny in the backyard of the Burrow, obviously taken from a distance, picking flowers. Daray had access to any place that Harry might run to and it was obvious that they knew where Harrys friends lived. If Harry escaped he could almost be certain that they would be injured if not dead before he could even reach either one of them. The Weasleys, surely could defend themselves, for Daray had no idea he was dealing with magic, but the Grangers were just muggles and Hermione was not allowed to use magic in the summer. And Harry didnt even have a way of warning them. A huge weight settled on his shoulders. Daray put the papers away once more.

"So you see Harry...you are mine. There is no way around that so I wouldnt bother trying because if will only hurt you in the end. You hurt me...I hurt them. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded weakly.

"Excellent" Daray hissed before reaching out to Harry and pulled him close. "_I dont know why you bothered to get dressed."_ he said, returning to his native tongue as he ran his hands over Harrys body, tugging at his clothing. Harry struggled momentarily but one quick glare from Daray was all it took for Harry to stop, thinking of his family and friends he had to protect, even if it meant sacrificing himself. So he allowed himself to be stripped of his clothing and his pride and was pushed onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling, afraid he may drown himself in his tears as Daray parted his legs and prepared him.

_"Do not want to ruin you for your customers"_ He had whispered harshly knowing that Harry did not understand him. Harry winced and whimpered at the harsh intrusion to his body. But he was still unprepared when Daray hoisted himself up, holding himself over Harrys body and holding his legs parted so wide that Harry felt more exposed and dirty than he had ever felt in his life, for the intense pain that came when Daray buried his cock deep in Harrys ass. Harry cried out and murmered "no" and "please stop" over and over again but made no physical movements to stop Daray which seemed to appease him enough. Daray thrusted roughly, grunting with each shove of his hips against Harrys. Harry felt his head hit the headboard over and over again and he had lost feeling in his legs which were bent at angles he had never thought he would be flexible enough to reach.

It seemed like forever until Daray was finally satisfied. He filled Harry with his seed and then got up, cleaned himself up and walked out of the room as if he had just finished reading the evening paper. Harry lay, naked and shaking on the bed, cum dripping out of his asshole, crying and unable to comprehend the amount of times he had been sexually violated in the past few days. This one had been the most painful and intrusive of them all, Harry felt like he could barely move for the shooting pain running up and down his spine. Was it going to hurt this badly every time? Would they all be this cold and unfeeling? Harry for the first time really felt true waves of fear washing over him as it seemed like, for the thousandth time, reality sunk in. He was really in France. He was really going to be sold to perverts for sex. He really had no way out. And there was really nothing he could do about it.

He was completely dazed when he was pulled from the bed and didnt even have the awareness to blush when whoever it was wiped his ass of the cum before throwing his clothes at him. Harry began to numbly dress and was led back to the basement where the bunk beds were. He happened to see a window way up high and saw some sunlight shine through. So it was morning at least. He was led down the stairs and all light vanished.

When his eyes adjusted he noticed that all the girls were sleeping in their beds, in various states of undress. He looked around and noticed all the beds were taken. He sighed quietly and looked around for the softest bit of floor until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped in surprise, as did Aimee when she realized that she had frightened.

"Sorry" she whispered in her heavy accent. She then reached down and grabbed his hand before she led him over to an open bed which she climbed into and gestured for him to do the same.

"Thank you" he whispered and climbed into the bed for the first time in two days. And with the events that had past swirling in his head, he slowly fell into an uneasy sleep.

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Phew, alright there it is, my latest installment. As you can see Harry is getting more and more hopeless. I know that it is really in Harrys nature to fight and be completely reckless but Harry really needs to stay alive in order for this to work and with Harrys normal personality he would be dead in a few minutes because people in the underworld tend to not care. So Ive altered his personality a little bit to make him a little more thoughtful of others. And besides, Harry acts very similarly when with the Dursleys, very quiet and obedient so he is used to that so I would assume he sees these situations as very similar. Review and let me know what you think!!!


	4. Chapter 4

French is in Italics!

If somebody speaks French and is speaking English just pretend it is in a French accent because it is annoying both to write and read.

Slight Point of View changes in this chapter so sorry if you get a little confused.

Warning: This is rated mature for a reason! This story involves rape and drugs and possibly other things that my sick mind can make up. If you are going to flame me then why bother reading it?

ONE MORE THING: I would really appreciate it if you guys would review. Im not just writing this story for my own twisted pleasure and while it is MY story and will follow my own ideas I would love some feedback. What do you like about it? What do you hate? Do I need to fix something? I need to know. If you tell me you love something and it still fits with my plot, maybe Ill put more in. Or if you hate something maybe Ill fix it as long as it still fits with the story. But I wont know if you dont tell me!!!

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Daray was very happy. This was not a common event. Most often one could find him holed up in his room scowling at financial books, trying to maintain the legitimate cover business while also keeping track of the children living downstairs, who was making money and who was not. Should he try them in another city if they were unpopular here, or would it be less of a waste of money to just kill them?

Daray was the ringleader of brothels in Paris, Denmark, Prague, London, Madrid, Venezuela, New York City and Chicago. He had files on every single child in his possession which included photos, information, as well as their blackmail information. Of course there were other branches in the world in the same business peddling not only children but adults and were located in every corner of the globe. Daray had been a part of these other businesses as a slightly younger man but after many years became a frontrunner and branched away in a sort of coup. He had began gathering followers, mostly enforcers who gathered and controlled the products. He also began taking a greater interest in the bookkeeping and looked carefully for which houses made the most money as well as what particular people were top sellers.

He quickly gathered that the children were the big sellers in the houses and which locations had the biggest client base. As he moved up in the ranks he eventually gained the power to have a small amount of control about which people were sold in which locations. He used this opportunity to slowly and subtly move adults away from the top houses and move more children in. He watched as the numbers slowly raised in the houses he had selected.

Then he placed his men in these houses and one night they took over the top houses and just like that Daray had his own European chain of child prostitutes. He reigned successfully for several years before he made a deal with some houses overseas and sent some of his children to new houses in America and he watched his profits grow. And now he was a rich and powerful underground leader. It was a difficult job and there was a lot involved. It wasnt just kidnapping small children from their beds at night. Every new prospect had to be examined; would they me missed, would they attract the eye of their customers, if they were being bought would they be worth the money? There were so many things that could go wrong when bringing a child into the company. It was Darays job to make sure to analyze the risk assessment and make a decision on whether he or she would be worth the risk. All it took was one child who raised an alarm to the public to bring his empire to its knees. So he was also responsible for making sure that when a child disappeared that they would never be found.

So when Daray was first approached by one of his informants of a child in England, Daray told him to send the information to his manager in London. Daray couldnt be everywhere at once so he had men at each of his houses to run them. Daray would really only stop by if there was a problem. He preferred to remain in Paris which, aside from being his home was also his most lucrative house. He supposed Frenchmen were simply more lecherous than others.

His informant, however, persevered telling Daray that this boy was a solid investment and belonged in Paris. Daray was intrigued and requested a photo of the boy, as boys were surprisingly difficult to come by and having on in his Paris house would easily double their income.

__

So they wanted more pictures. Vernon climbed back into his car after having met with his correspondent in an alley a man from work had recommended him to. Vernon was beginning to wonder whether this was more work than it was worth. But then he thought about the estimate the man had told him they may be willing to give him for the boy. He could hardly believe his luck. He had been angrily ranting about how he deplored his unnatural nephew to a coworker while out to lunch one day when the coworker looked around a bit before leaning in and whispering, "Why dont you just get rid of the little brat?"

Vernon stopped cold. But then he shook his head.

"What, kill the mongrel? No-" But his coworker shook his head.

"No, not kill him. I...well my cousin is sort of...involved with some unsavory stuff."

"Oh?" Vernon muttered, leaning in more.

"Yeah, like...black market stuff...you can get anything from him-even a person if you wanted. Im sure if you were interested in...selling." The man tapered off leaning back and looking around before peering back at Vernon as if he was worried hed said too much.

"Hmm....sell the freak. That could work. Much less messy and a lot easier. How would I reach him?"

So the man gave his information to Vernon and a week later they were meeting, Vernon with a picture of his nephew he had taken subtly while the lad was gardening with his shirt off. The man seemed very interested but a few days later he called for a meeting with Vernon again, the one he was just leaving from, stating that they were interested but he needed more photos for his boss so that he could really see everything and fully examine his possible buy.

So Vernon made a quick stop on the way home and upon reaching his house headed inside and kissed his wife and ruffled his sons hair. He glared at the boy in the kitchen cooking their dinner, daring him to burn something. But he didnt and soon dinner was on the table with the little ragamuffin sitting across from Dudley, eating his meager portions-as well he should. Petunia snapped at the wretch about how the bathroom wasn't clean enough and he would simply have to clean it again after supper. Vernon took the boys momentary distraction from his meal to reach his hand over and empty the contents of a small vial into the boys drink. Petunia was too busy scolding the boy on his shoddy cleaning and Dudley was too focused on his food for either of them to notice anything.

The rest of the meal was finished with Vernon regaling them of the fine points of his day at work, watching carefully out of the corner of his eye to make sure that the boy finished his entire glass of water. When he did he excused himself to clean up the kitchen and the dishes from supper. Dudley ran upstairs to play video games while Petunia and Vernon retired to the sitting room to watch the evening news. Vernon listened to the clanking of the pots and pans in the kitchen as they were being washed. He heard a momentary pause in the clanking and excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he passed the kitchen he looked in and saw the boy leaning over the sink with one hand to his forehead. He shook his head before resuming his work. Vernon went to the bathroom and looked in again on his way back to see the boy putting dishes away. He had just finished with the last of it and turned back to the sink to drain the water when he stumbled and grabbed onto the counter. He looked around confusedly as he tried to take a step away but crashed to the counter again, unable to walk. Then he tried to use the counter to maneuver forward, with his eyes drooping, he made one last attempt to grab anything before he fell to the ground and stilled. Vernon smiled and walked forward. He kicked the boy lightly and the boy did not awaken or move. So he grabbed the boy and basically dragged him up the stairs to his room. In the boys room he flung him to his bed before heading to his own room and grabbing his camera and returning to Harrys room.

He laid the boy on the bed and took a few pictures of his whole body and then a few of his face, eyes shut in slumber. He paused for a moment and, making sure the door was shut, hoisted the boy into a sitting position and pulled his shirt off. He then moved his hands to the waist of his trousers. He paused again, looking at the boys face. But then he shook his head and continued undoing the boys pants and pulling them down. He left the boys underwear on for now and took a few pictures. Then he removed even his underwear and took a few photos. He turned the boy over and took a few final photos before setting his camera down and turning the boy back over. Vernon stopped for a moment and looked at the young, naked teenager on the bed. He experimentally ran his hands over the boys chest before reaching down to grope him between the legs. He ran his hands up his sides but removed them as the boy shifted slightly in medicated slumber. Vernon quickly grabbed his camera and waddled out of the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He thought about the boy in the room angrily. The boy clearly had bewitched him into thinking those sinful thoughts. He marched straight back into his room and gathered the photos for his next meeting.

And as such those photos fell into Darays waiting hands. And Daray simply felt his mouth water at the glorious boy in front of him. He now understood why his informant had been so adamant that Daray bring this boy to Paris. He was one of the prettiest boys he had ever seen and he predicted he would do amazingly in Paris. Not to mention the fact that Daray would enjoy him there as well. It was very rare that Daray would move a child so far, especially when they were first taken. It was easier after theyd been in the system for a while, because if a child was noticed missing immediately after theyd been taken there was a much higher chance theyd be caught if trying to move them long distance. However if the child had been missing for a while then the odds that they would be recognized were smaller if accidentally seen.

But Daray was rather confident in Harry's case. Harry was being sold, not kidnapped, so there wouldn't be any alarm raised by the family. And apparently the boy attended a reform boarding school for criminals so he doubted he would be missed there, although the family assured them that he was sent there simply out of hate, not out of psychotic tendencies or anything dangerous. And it appeared that the boy had few friends, only two the family could name which was perfect because it was not enough to cause alarm but enough to blackmail the boy with. It seemed perfect. So Daray allowed the boy to be taken all the way from England to Paris.

One thing Daray had not expected was the boys eyes. In all the photos the boy either had his head turned away (so as not to see the photo being taken) or the boy was asleep. So when Daray first saw the boy in person in his basement and he tilted the boys chin up he felt his heart stop in his chest at the sight of his hypnotizing green eyes. He composed himself and quickly commanded his photos be taken for the book and then for the boy to be brought to his rooms. It took everything he had not to simply attack the boy the moment the door opened. However he thoroughly enjoyed fucking the boy hard, hearing the thump of the headboard and the boys quiet murmurs. He then left to clean himself up and finish some business in the office before returning to find his room empty.

And thats where he was now. He had retrieved the photos from Sabin (the stern man) and was currently assembling Harrys new page in The Book.

The Book was a book that all customers looked at before making their selections. It wasnt like they wanted anyone to be able to walk in and look at all of their children in person, or even have all the children upstairs, which was risky, so they were in a separate room and looked at the book before selecting one, or a small amount to choose from and then their selection was brought up. Or if the person selected a few then they were brought up and the customer was able to examine them in person and select from them.

Daray selected the best photos of Harry from the ones they had just taken as well as the collection he had from his uncle. He assembled them on a page and then marked the top Emrys for Harrys emerald eyes. They didnt want to use real names in case somebody matched a name to a person which could put them in an awful bind. With Harrys page finished he shut the book, placed it on his desk, and exited the room to head out for the lobby, as another work day was ready to begin.

Harry came to the foggy realization that he was in a bed, which was a welcome relief due to the fact that the last two time he had awoken he had been on the floor of a van. However he noticed some extra limbs that werent his jumbled together in the bed. He froze completely, his body becoming stiff immediately until he cracked an eyelid and saw a still sleeping Aimee who was kind enough to share her bed with him when he didnt have one. He pondered getting up but negated that thought as he realized he would have nowhere to go. So instead he just looked around what would be his home for the foreseeable future.

There were scattered bunk beds in the grimy basement and a few crates shoved into a corner and that was all as far as Harry could tell. The basement was dank and filthy and the only source of light came from a single bare light bulb hanging in the middle of the room with a pull string hanging from it. Harry sighed and rested his head once again on the pillow. He looked to his left and saw Aimees face, forehead wrinkled in worry even in sleep. Harrys heart went out to her. He knew there were few people in the world who ever made it out of situations like theirs and when they did it was never the same life they had before. For some reason Harry felt the need to make sure she got away with him. He wondered what it was that led him to feeling this way. He simply brushed it aside as his typical hero complex and stretched out again once more before tucking his feet back closer to his body. Apparently his blanket was a little short for himand that was saying much considering his short stature. He simply clutched the blanket closer and attempted to rest once more, not knowing what was in his future.

_"Emrys!"_

Harry was jerked awake by the shout coming down the stairs. He looked around groggily, not sure what was being yelled. Apparently the shouter didnt get what they wanted because Harry soon saw a bulky figure working his way down the stairs. It was someone new who he hadnt seen at the house yet. He wondered what he wanted but realized that he would soon find out as he was stalking directly towards him.

__

"When your name is called you come, understand?"

"Emrys. That is what you are called here, ok? Emrys."

"Put on your work clothes."

, the man shouted, yanking Harry out of the bed by his arm. He heard Aimee moan a little in her sleep at the rough jerk that jarred her as well. Harry simply looked confusedly at the man.The man said. Harry pondered the words spoken to him. Again, he had very little French background to go on. He picked out the word Emrys, as the man had emphasized it and used it twice and was attempting to figure out what it meant, or if it was even a word. It took him a moment to figure out he was being spoken to again.Again, Harry was at a loss. The man simply picked up Harrys grey sweatpants off the floor where Harry had placed them and shoved them into his chest. Harry looked down at them and deduced (more like guessed and hoped he was right) that the man wanted him to put his sweat pants on. So Harry spared one self-conscious look at the man and, receiving a glare, quickly shucked off his denims. He pulled up the sweatpants and looked at the man for confirmation that he had done something right. The man gave a frustrated grunt and reached forward, yanking Harrys shirt off. Now shirtless in only a pair of grey sweatpants that hung a little low on his hips, the man ruffled his hands through Harrys hair before nodding and pulling at his arm. Harry followed the man up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, Harry looked up and found his little window and recognized with sadness that there was no light streaming through. It was nighttime again. He looked back down at his feet as he was led through a few hallways and then a door. The man let go of his arm and opened the door and gestured for him to go through. Harry stepped through the doorway to find Daray standing in what looked like a waiting room with another man. It was not the posh lobby that he had entered through when he first arrived here. It was a little dingier with an unimpressive couch, coffee table and a chair that didnt match the room or couch. The other man in the room smiled when he saw Harry and Harry shivered from the look in his eye. The man turned to Daray.

_"Perfect"_

The man slipped a wad of bills into Darays hand and headed over to Harry, who had barely made it into the room before he was turned around. Harry and the man were led down the hallway and Harry could simply feel the eyes of the man behind him grating his skin as they scoured his body. They were shuffled into a room and suddenly they were alone.

The room was dark, the moonlight from another high window the only light. It was a small room, barely larger than Harrys bedroom at the Dursleys. It held only a fully sized bed and some scattered pieces of furniture. The man went straight for the bed and sat down on it, unbuttoning his cuffs and collar and rolling his sleeves up. He was a middle aged looking man, by his dress he must hold some sort of white collar job. He still had a full head of hair but it was lightly peppered with gray hairs and appeared to be thinning a little bit. He looked up and grinned at Harry lecherously, patting the space on the bed next to him. Harry gulped and found himself stiffly stepping forward and sitting next to him on the bed. The mattress creaked loudly in the silent room. Harry sat ramrod straight and stared forward. Harry felt the mans breath on his neck and felt his lips begin to quiver so he pursed his lips together and closed his eyes trying to imagine being anywhere else.

He felt the man reach over into his lap and grab one of his hands. He pulled Harrys hand over to his lap and Harry felt the smooth, cool metal of the mans belt buckle, where the man let go and leaned back on his hands. Harry kept trying to stare forward and unbuckle the mans belt with one hand without looking. But he was fumbling his nervousness and the man sat up and grabbed Harrys other hand as well and tugged on it, guiding Harry to get up and maneuver in front of the man on his knees. The man leaned back again, signaling to Harry that he was to continue undoing the mans belt.

Harry completed said task and, with prompting, pulled down the mans trousers. The man sat up and pulled off his shirt leaving him only in his boxers now. He lifted his hips off the bed and stared at Harry who then removed them for him. The man inched forward towards the edge of the bed and wound his hand into the hair on the back of Harrys head. Harry knew all too well from his excursions with the men in the van transporting him here what that gesture meant. He reluctantly took the body part into his mouth and bobbed his head up and down which seemed to work just fine for the man as he grew harder within Harrys mouth.

After what seemed like forever the man pulled Harry off of his cock and pulled him up. Harry stood in front of the man still sitting on the edge of the bed. He grasped Harry by the hips and pulled him forward, kissing him just above the waistband of his pants before pulling both them and his underwear off. He guided Harry down on the bed and settled his weight on top of Harry. Harrys eyes glistening with tears stared up at the ceiling. The weight was gone for a moment as the man sat up but it was only to spread some oil on his cock before he crashed back down on Harry. He bent his head and kissed Harrys lips which were pinched tightly shut. He reached a hand between their bodies and groped around before guiding his engorged member into Harry. Harry tensed and squirmed at the intrusion and whimpered at the pain, a few tears falling. The man just shushed him and slid his hands up Harrys back before clenching them in Harrys hair and burying his face in Harrys neck.

Harrys hands gripped the bed sheets painfully as the man above him rocked back and forth, the only noise in the room being the creaky mattress, the few mumbled words or grunts from the man on top of him, or the pathetic whimpers coming from Harry. He felt the mans hands move from his hair and felt them pulling at his hands which were white-knuckled on the bed sheets. He pried them apart and laced their fingers and pulled them above Harrys head, lifting his own head to place a few more kisses on Harrys locked lips or face. Harry simply laid there awkwardly and in pain as he was rocked back and forth and fucked. The man picked up the pace as he furthered his own pleasure, luckily Harrys and the mans hands interlocking above his head formed a protective barrier so that Harrys head wasnt thumping against the headboard this time.

The man soon finished, not _quite_ soon enough for Harrys liking, and lifted himself off the bed. Immediately it was like Harry didnt exist. The man put his clothes on and left the room, leaving Harry to do the same, which he did. He exited the room to find the man there once again to escort him back to the basement. He climbed back into his bunk to find an awake Aimee.

"Where were you?" she asked quietly. Harry paused before answering.

"Working."

All the children waited in uncomfortable anxiousness, all pretending that they werent dreading the next time the door would open and someone would be called. Harry and Aimee watched helplessly from their positions on the bed chatting quietly as throughout the night girls would be called up and would return, often tears streaking their faces from the newer girls. The older girls wouldnt cry. Aimee was called up once and Harry held her when she came back down, both of them sharing in their sorrow. Harry was called up two more times that evening and neither of those two were interested in even trying to make it seem like it was consensual like the first man. They were all business. The door shut and Harry would find himself immediately flat on his back with his pants off.

Things continued in this manner for several weeks. The only sort of method they had for keeping track of days and nights was the fact that most customers came at night, so they slept through the day. However that didnt stop the random occasions of being yanked awake in the middle of the day for some man on his lunch break. When not sleeping, or while waiting awake at night to be called the children just chatted amongst each other. Harry was the only boy but the other girls had told him that there was one before him. They didnt know what happened to him. They just woke up one night, he was called up the stairs and never came back.

It was difficult for the girls to communicate with him in English. Aimee happened to live rather close to the channel so there were a lot of travelers from the UK passing through her town often so she picked up some English. So Harry mostly talked to her but he had picked up some French, both from the other girls and from the men working in the house. They werent willing to cater to his lack of language skills like they were on the first day so he had to learn what they wanted or he would get cuffed on the head until he figured it out. So over the past few weeks Harry had picked up key phrases that helped him follow directions and he was slowly learning from the girls in the basement, with Aimees help. This was a comfort because not only was he in a foreign country away from his family and friends, but he felt isolated with his lack of ability to communicate.

Harry was very popular with clients, usually with 3 or 4 customers a night. The man who came the first time became a regular, coming once every few days. It was one day though that was the worst since had first been taken.

Harry was brought upstairs for the third time that night and led to a room. The door was shut and the man turned to him slowly with an almost evil grin on his face. Harry gulped and clenched his hands together and bowed his head feeling his stomach tie itself in knots for what was to come.

It was approximately an hour later that the man exited the room looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Emmett, the man usually responsible for escorting the children to and from the basement waiting for a few minutes but became curious when Harry didnt appear. He opened the door and scanned the room but at first glance it seemed empty. Emmett had a moment of panic thinking that perhaps Harry had escaped. But there was no window or other doors in the room which Emmett quickly remembered and re scanned the room. A sob in the corner drew him to look closer and there he found Harry.

Harry was handcuffed to a desk that had been shoved in with the other furniture. He had a few gashes on his body that were bleeding and a few places which were beginning to bruise already, including an already black eye. He was sobbing quietly but it also seemed like he was fighting to stay conscious. Emmett quickly turned on his heel and exited the room, chasing down the customer and managing to catch him before he left. He quickly asked for the key to the handcuffs, as he didnt want to upset any clients. The man smirked at him and complied before leaving. Daray witnessed this exchange and followed Emmett back to the room where Harry was. Daray frowned at the sight of Harry being un cuffed.

_"Take him to the spare room"_ Daray told Emmett as he nodded and picked Harry up who it seemed had succumbed to slumber. Emmett carried Harry down the hall with Daray following who was cursing.

_"This is unacceptable...he can't simply damage goods and not pay extra. He will be out of commission for at least a day"_ Daray grumbled to himself. He hated it when clients roughed up the children too much because none of his clients wished to sleep with someone who was bruised and bleeding. Harry would have to take at least tomorrow night off until he was looking better.

So Harry stayed in the extra room where he was allowed to take a shower by himself, a luxury to him now as typically they simply threw all the children into a group shower which was always cold and barely lasted more than ten minutes. He was also allowed to have a little extra food, just some extra pieces of fruit but it was still better than nothing. He slept during the day and was only awoken once by Daray and Emmett who looked him over and decided that he couldnt work that night, so he got to have one night free from work for the first time in weeks. But it wasnt all sunshine, he was still in a lot of pain and they used a lot of chemicals that stung in order to prevent him from becoming infected.

The next day he was awoken again but it was still early afternoon. It was Daray wanting to enjoy Harry for the first time since the night that Harry had arrived. After Daray finished and pulled out of Harry he called Emmett into the room. He told Emmett to clean Harry up because he would be fine for work tonight. So Harry was showered and Emmett cleaned his wounds once more before he was taken back down to the basement. Harry walked over to his usual bed and found Aimee who hugged him tightly.

_"I thought you were gone forever! All I could remember was the story the other girls told me about the other boy who went upstairs and never came back!"_ she cried, holding on to Harry. Harry had to take a few moments and translate her words in his head, as she had spoken rather quickly before he responded.

_"Its ok. Just some guy beat me up and I couldnt work last night thats all"_ He answered her. They continued holding each other and chatting softly until Aimee was called upstairs. And so it went on

Sirius paced the dining room of Grimmauld place. He looked back at the aged wizard sitting at the head of the table.

"When can we go and get Harry again?" He asked in frustration. The bearded wizard sighed.

"Sirius, you know very well that he must stay there until his birthday for the blood wards to be recharged. But I promise that Harry wont be 15 for more than a minute before he is back here." The old man said in what he hoped was a stern yet comforting voice. Sirius sighed and ran his hands through his hair. July 31st was still two weeks away. Sirius just couldnt shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. But then again, he knew that Harry was never happy with his relatives so maybe thats all that was bothering him. So Sirius retired to his room hoping that his worries were unnecessary and that Harry would be fine.

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Ok, sorry for the long wait on his one folks, I was transitioning back into my life at school. But again, PLEASE review! And more than just I like it or Please update soon I want to know what you _really_ think!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

So my laptop was broken and I finally got a new I thought Id celebrate by finally posting a new chapter!!! Im sure you are all as excited as me!

Just a little note. I get a lot of notifications saying that people are adding me to alert lists and favorites listsThis is awesome but I would also appreciate it if you took a few seconds to submit a review. Let me know why you are favoriting it! What are your favorite partswhat do you hate? Let me know!!!

As usual, French is in italics and if somebody who speaks French is speaking English, use those imaginations of yours and imagine an accent because it is annoying to write and even more annoying to read J

Warning: This is rated mature for a reason! This story involves rape and drugs and possibly other things that my sick mind can make up. If you are going to flame me then why bother reading it?

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Sirius was sitting excitedly like a child on Christmas Eve staring at the clock. It was finally July 30th and approaching 10 pm. In two short hours he, Dumbledore, and Remus would be heading to number 4 Privet Drive to take Harry away from his relatives.

Sirius had never managed to shake that feeling that he had about Harry. He merely hoped and prayed that when they got to Harry he would be all in one piece and unharmed. He was so focused on the clock, willing it to move more quickly that the sound of the door opening startled him and he jumped in his seat. He smiled at his good friend Remus who entered the room looking less than happy.

"Whats up Remus?" Sirius asked, concerned for the expression on his face. Remus paused before answering.

"Dumbledore just fire-called. Theres been some strange activity on the edges of Hogsmeade and he wants us to check them out."

Sirius felt himself deflate a little bit, knowing that going out now they wouldnt be back in time to get Harry. He looked up at Remus to find him looking at him apologetically before turning around and exiting the room, presumably to go get ready. Sirius sighed but tried to reason with himself logically. The only thing that would really change is that they wouldnt have to wake Harry up in the middle of the night to take him away. Nothing bad could happen to him in the few hours he would just be sleeping anyway, right?

With that thought, Sirius got up and changed into some warmer clothes, as they would most likely be rooting around outside.

Harry was woken from his slumber by the loud slamming of the basement door. He was surprised he was still asleep if somebody was coming downstairs already. Usually he just naturally woke up before customers started arriving. If he didnt wake up naturally then one of the girls woke him up, whether intentionally or not. But he looked around and noticed all the girls sitting up and looking around curiously much like Harry. This made him conclude that it was early for them to be awake. He looked over at the bottom of the stairs to see Emmet who was standing as if waiting for all the teens to notice him. He called out for one of the girls. She got up and walked over, as if to go up the stairs but he stopped her. He just had her stand to the side. He called out three more names, including Aimee who stood and joined the group. Then Emmet called for Harry, or rather Emrys as he was called here. Harry joined the group. Emmet looked at all of them.

_"Put on your leisure clothes"_

They all scrambled to their beds, not taking the time to wonder why they werent going to be wearing their work clothes tonight. Harry shrugged into his red zip up hoodie after putting on his t-shirt and jeans. He turned around and walked back to Emmet. Emmet looked down at Harrys feet which were bare, having never been given shoes or socks of any kind. But instead of producing some sort of footwear, as Harry had hoped, he merely looked back up at the other girls who were finishing changing.

Soon the whole group was once again gathered at the bottom of the steps. Emmet looked the group over before turning and heading up the stairs and the group all followed. They were led up the stairs but instead of turning down the hallway that would lead to the waiting room, Emmet turned the opposite direction. Harry vaguely recalled that Darays room was down this way and felt a shiver run down his spine. When they reached his door however, they turned down another hallway that Harry hadnt noticed when he first arrived. They were led down the hall and down a short staircase where they met a big metal door. Emmet opened the door and looked around for a moment before exiting and motioning for the kids to follow him through the door. They did and were surprised to find themselves outside. They took a moment to revel in the feeling of the summer air, although it was already dark out. However they were quickly hurried along into the back of a van. Harry had no idea what was going on. He guessed that perhaps they were being moved somewhere. But they didnt bring anything else with them. Not that they had anything else, save for their work clothes.

They all huddled in the back of the van with one of the workers keeping an eye on them, as Emmet had moved to the cab of the van, presumably to drive with one other worker. They all muttered quietly to each other about what was going on. None of the other girls who had been selected had ever experienced anything like this before. It was unheard of to be able to leave the house. A quick glare from the worker in the back silenced them all pretty quickly but the ride wasnt too long so they soon found themselves being led out of the back of the van.

Harry looked up in awe at the house in front of him. The neighborhood they were in was clearly one for the supremely wealthy. He took a quick glimpse around and saw that all the other houses in sight were the same, although they were all separated spaciously, unlike the cramped yards back in England. Once again however, they were not allowed to linger long, as they were rushed into the house.

They stood in the impressive foyer, looking around in awe at the hardwood floors, the lovely chandelier above them, as well as the artwork that adorned the walls. A man came out and Emmet stepped forward and they conversed quietly. The other man produced a rather thick wad of large bills which Emmet quickly glanced over before nodding and pocketing the money. He motioned the children forward and they were led through the double doors they had been admiring.

The scene they encountered was vastly different from one that was expected to be taking place in this elegant house. There were people stumbling around drunkenly everywhere, and on the stylish glass table there were people snorting lines of whatever drug they chose. Several heads shot up upon their entrance and many lewd grins graced the faces of the men. Quite a few of the men stood from whatever they were doing and came over to view their party favors.

An middle-aged man who was stinking drunk wrapped his arm around Harrys waist and led him to a door which Harry discovered led to a small half bathroom (meaning there is no shower). He shut and locked the door and pushed Harry against the sink. He ground against Harry with his face buried in Harrys neck. He pressed his mouth to Harrys sloppily and Harry nearly gagged at the disgusting taste. The man groped at Harrys body, undoing his pants and pushing them to the floor. He lifted Harry unexpectedly onto the sink and Harry winced as his bare bottom touched the cold porcelain of the sink. He ripped Harrys pants all the way off and then undid his own trousers pushing them down around his thighs. He pulled Harrys legs up so they were wrapped around him before dispensing some of the liquid soap that was sitting on the sink onto his cock.

One of the unfortunate effects of alcohol is the prolonged ejaculation. Harry had no idea how long he sat on the uncomfortable sink with the sinks faucet digging into the small of his back while the man satisfied himself. Eventually the man came and pausing only to wipe himself off on the hand towel, pulled his pants up and exited the room. Harry climbed off the sink and decided to take advantage of being in a bathroom by himself. A nice one at that. He looked at himself in the mirror and couldnt believe how much he had changed. he hadnt seen himself since he had been at the Dursleys which had to have been several weeks ago. His cheek bones were more prominent and he seemed paler than ever, most likely due to lack of sunlight. He washed his face and hands with the soap and with a moment of consideration, quickly rinsed off his body lightly and dried off using the other hand towel (thankfully, there were two). He replaced his clothing and left the bathroom.

It seemed that some other men had no scruples about privacy. He felt mildly disgusted to see two of the girls he had come to consider friends being used on the couches in the middle of the room, while the action resumed around them. His vision was blocked by another man coming to stand in front of him holding a drink in a cup. He handed it to Harry.

_"No thank you, monsieur."_ Harry said, shaking his head. The man narrowed his eyes and pushed it into Harrys hands, staring at him until Harry took a drink. He led Harry over to one of the armchairs and sat down, pulling Harry into his lap. He pushed the cup towards Harrys mouth again and Harry grimaced as the concoction was poured into his mouth. He finally finished the drink and it was taken from his hands. The man pulled Harry closer and seemed content to run his hands over Harrys body. Harry found his vision getting hazier the longer he sat there. And while he knew that the drink was alcoholic he knew that that couldnt be the sole reason. There must have been something in his drink.

The man stood and Harry found himself stumbling as he was led to his feet and then out of the room. Harry couldnt process where he was being led until he recognized the foyer. He was led past the doors however and was taken up a set of stairs to an actual bedroom.

Harry found it mildly disturbing how happy he was at the sight of the bed. The bed at the brothel was hardly comfortable and while Harry knew what was going to happen on the bed he could hardly help but be excited at the fact that it would happen on this extremely comfortable looking bed.

At least it began that way. The typical way, that is with the man lying on top of a prone Harry while he simply stared at the ceiling waiting for it to be over. However soon the man pulled out and laid on his back, pulling Harry onto his lap, lowering him onto his cock. Harry sat astride the man, not quite knowing what to do, as no man had ever put him in this position. The man gripped his hips and pulled him up and down before stopping, merely leaving his hands on Harrys hips as he continued the motion.

Harry had never had to act proactively in these altercations and he had to say he didnt like it very much. It seemed too much like it was a consensual act on Harrys part. The up and down motion was doing nothing for Harrys spinning vision and luckily for him, he quickly succumbed to whatever drug was in his system and lost track of where he was and what he was doing. He barely noticed when the man was finally finished and pulled out of Harry and left. Harry laid on the bed, lost in the comfort of the bed and his spinning head.

Eventually Harry was aware enough of his surroundings to fix himself and leave the room. He stumbled down the stairs alone and found that the door leading to the foyer was left open. He glanced at the door and then back at the party. Nobody was paying attention to him. So he crept towards the door and slipped through. He didnt notice the pair of eyes that flashed in his direction at the last second and bolted over to the door. Harry was already outside the house and began running down the street for all he was worth. Emmet quickly yelled to two of the men who worked for him to come to the door. He pushed them outside and they began chasing Harry. Emmet turned around and headed back into the party.

_"Time to go! Get up now!"_ He yelled to the girls. They quickly responded, much to the dislike of the men. In no time they were dressed and Emmet was shuffling them out and into the back of the van.

_"Help! Somebody help me please!!"_ Harry screamed into the night, running down the street. He thought he saw a light in one of the houses turn on but he was quickly tackled to the ground by one of the workers. He didnt feel the scrape on his arm but it began to bleed. Harry continued screaming deranged rantings as he was wrestled back to the van. The man jumped in the back with them and, once the door was shut, banged on the back of the van to signal the drivers that they could leave. The van pealed out of the neighborhood, but not before a few more lights turned on and one or two neighbors stepped outside of their homes.

_"Damn it!"_ The man shouted before turning to Harry who was cowering in fear. The man kicked him in his side several times. "_You piece of shit! Do you realize what you have just done!!"_

He continued yelling and hitting Harry until they reached the brothel. The doors flew open and they were all rushed inside. Harry stumbled along, limping slightly with the pain in his side. They were pushed into the basement and locked away. Harry stumbled over to his bed and just sat staring ahead.

He had been so close he could taste it. He hadnt been outside in so long, it had felt amazing to simply be in the open air. He could have run for hours he felt like, if only it would have taken him as far away from here as possible. But now he felt fear and guilt over what might possibly happen. Aimee came over and sat next to him while the others simply went to their own beds and stared at the door, waiting for news.

_"Daray, we have to move quickly. The neighbors were alerted, we have no idea what they saw or heard. The police could be on their way here right now!"_ The man from the back of the van was telling Daray in his room. Emmet was there along with two other henchmen. Daray looked lost in thought. He had to think quickly or his entire empire would be gone. He quickly turned to his men and spit instructions off rapid fire and the men turned to run in all different directions. Daray followed Emmet to a storage closet where they grabbed a small box before heading to the basement.

The children all jumped when the door slammed open. Daray glided down the stairs, a picture of poise, though he was the epitome of rushed and stress underneath. He took a brief moment to turn his steely gaze to Harry. Harry shivered and bowed his head, afraid for his punishmentwhether he would live. Daray called out the names of a few of the girls. They walked over and Emmet opened a box he had brought with him and pulled out a syringe. Each girl got a syringe in the arm and were directed back to their beds. Daray called up the stairs and the two other henchmen came downstairs.

_"The vans are ready"_ the first one down the stairs. Daray nodded.

_"These girls are to be taken to the warehouse in Strasbourg, stop for nothing."_ Daray said to the first man. He went over to one of the girls who Harry had noticed were all unconscious on their beds now. One by one the men took the girls upstairs until there were only Harry, Aimee, and one other girl Renee.

_"Tell the others to go. These three are going somewhere else and will be riding with me and Emmet in the other van."_ Daray instructed to the men.

Daray went to Aimee and injected her with the same shot as the others. One of the men caught her as she fell and carried here upstairs. Daray did the same with Renee and soon the basement was empty save for Harry and Daray. Daray stared coldly down at Harry with the syringe in his hand. He then leaned in and stuck Harrys arm. Before fading away he heard Daray harshly whisper in his ear.

_"You are lucky you are too beautiful to waste."_

Sirius was skipping as he, Remus, and Dumbledore approached the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive. Remus turned to Sirius and made him calm himself before he knocked on the door. It was Petunia who answered and she released a small squeak at seeing who was there. She immediately tried to slam the door but Remus foot got in the way.

"Excuse me, we are to pick Harry up." He said in what could be considered a cordial tone, but Petunia knew it was anything but.

"He's not here. H'es run away." She said before trying to shut the door again. This time it was Sirius who stopped her. He grabbed the door with his hand and pushed it open.

"I'm sorry, but what did you say?" He asked with his most menacing look. Petunia fumbled a bit with her hands.

"One day he just up and left. Took all his freaky things with him." she said. Sirius snorted and pushed past her and up the stairs to Harrys room. He burst through the door to find it completely empty. There were no sheets on the bed and upon further inspection he discovered the desk empty as well as the closet. He knelt next to the bed and pried up the floorboard that Harry had told him about and found his wand as well as invisibility cloak. Sirius grabbed these items and ran back downstairs to find that they had all congregated in the living room where Vernon was having a fit because this was interrupting his morning news time. Sirius held the items up.

"If Harry ran away, he would never leave his wand or his invisibility cloak here. What is going on? Where is my godson?" Sirius demanded. Silence met his demand. In the background you could hear the soft sounds of the television.

"Last night there was a huge discovery made in Paris, France. Local residents were awoken out of their sleep by a large ruckus apparently being made by a young teen. Rather than being some local trouble makers, it seems that this seemingly small disturbance when followed led to a rather disturbing discovery of a brothel specializing in child prostitution, right in downtown Paris."

Vernon stopped breathing. The three men were still staring at him. He made the mistake of letting his eyes slip for a fraction of a second to the tv. Remus noticed the glance at the television and looked himself and felt his mouth drop open at the story that was headlining the morning news. He looked back at Vernon.

"You can't possibly be that sick." Remus muttered staring hard at Vernon, barely believing what might be right in front of him. Vernons attempt to deny Remus thoughts only confirmed his newest suspicion even more.

"What? Moony, whats going on?" Sirius asked. Remus turned to one of his oldest friends.

"Vernon Dursley is a disgusting excuse for a human being."

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Phew! Well, there you go! Sorry again for the long wait!!! Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

I've been getting a few reviews about the lack of magic in this story, surprise at how long it is taking them to find Harry, as well as Harry's lack of accidental magic so I thought I'd take a moment to respond to these observations.

The reason that they haven't found Harry yet is because they only just realized that he is missing. They have thought that Harry has simply been at the Dursleys this whole time. In this story the blood wards don't work as a an alarm system if Harry isn't there, which is the case in many fan fictions.

Also, I highly dislike fan fictions where Harry goes missing and somebody knows some magical tracking spell that finds him in mere minutes. The whole point of this story is to explore the environment that Harry is forced into and see what effects it has on him in both a personal way as well as in battle (which will be coming- I haven't forgotten about the threat of Voldemort, don't worry).

There has also been concern expressed about Harry's lack of accidental magic and the seemingly useless threats of attacking the Grangers and the Weasleys as they can obviously use magic to protect themselves.

In chapter one Harry loses his wand and it rolls under the bed, ergo rendering him unable to use magic. The accidental magic subject is something I considered, but upon further consideration I realized that as Harry got older he had less bursts of accidental magic. My theory of this is that as he learned magic he became more able to control it and refine it which causes less outbursts. Harry gets pretty upset at points in the series but every time he got angry or upset didn't mean that something magical happened. This story takes place after year four. I realize he had a bout of accidental magic the summer before but a whole year of magical training occurred in which he learned to control his magic a lot via the Triwizard tournament. I believe that accidental magic occurs under extreme emotional conditions in severe circumstances, such as extreme fear or extreme anger. Harry was knocked unconscious almost immediately and when he woke up he was alone, with no immediate sense of physical danger. He was scared of course but there was no immediate threat. He was slowly introduced to the abuse so that when a time came where he was violently attacked he had already put up emotional barriers and resigned himself to what was going to happen, in hopes that he would be found alive so that he could still fight Voldemort and save his friends and family (which is referenced in Chapter 3).

As for the Weasleys and Hermione, Daray knows nothing about the magical world and I did mention that Harry wasn't so much afraid for the Weasleys, as they had magic and could fight back, but the Grangers are muggle. Even if Hermione would risk underaged magic to save her family, it has been addressed in the books that due to her muggle upbringing she is less likely to immediately think of magic as an option. Also, just because Hermione is going to go to school doesn't mean that Daray wouldn't not attack her parents who would be completely defenseless. Also we have to consider Harry's hero-complex.

Magic isn't completely gone from this story I am just taking a while to get there. I just hate stories where Harry gets kidnapped or disappears and somebody does some sort of inter-continental location spell and finds him 5 minutes later. Even with magic it's gonna take them a while to find him which is the point of the story. The world is a big place, even for wizards. They may use magic to find him but Harry is lost in the muggle world so they can't exactly go charging in with wands raised.

Someone also brought up the point of wards that cover wizards and witches so Harry's presence in the muggle ward should be really obvious. The use of wards is to cover up the presence of active wizards and witches. A house full of wizards, for example, may have a ward on it so that muggles can't find it. But individual witches and wizards in the muggle ward don't stick out like sore thumbs (unless, of course, they are wearing robes or obviously practicing magic). For example, when Sirius Black escaped prison, if they could find him immediately, they would have but even for magical people it is hard to find someone in the world

I have thought about these things thoroughly and I definitely appreciate the commentary, and there will definitely be more magic as the story progresses, but not every problem can be immediately solved using magic, though some can and will. I hope that everyone sticks around to find out how the story unfolds as we get further along!

Thank you so much for your reviews! It really means a lot to me and I really love that you guys are analyzing my work and pointing out problems with it! Let me know anything else that you guys are noticing!!!

Thanks!!!

Independence AKA Indy

P.S. Sorry for those of you who thought this was an update…I'm not quite that fast at writing yet but I hope to have another chapter up soon!

P.P.S keep an eye out because I made this pen name up years ago and I may be changing it soon cause I'm not a huge fan of this one


	7. Chapter 7

Albus Dumbledore stood serenely in the Dursley living room. Or at least one who was observing would think he was standing serenely. In fact he simply had so many emotions stirring inside of him the he wasn't sure which one would display on his face.

Denial. That any of this was truly happening.

Fear. That Harry was already dead, or simply lost forever.

Sadness. That he had allowed this to happen.

Anger. At Vernon Dursley for doing this to Harry.

Anger. At the man who had taken Harry.

Anger. At himself, for being so trusting to leave Harry with the Dursleys.

Anger.

Anger.

Anger.

Yes, anger would do quite nicely.

To see the face of Albus Dumbledore contort into a look of rage is not something anyone wants to see in their lifetime. Luckily for Vernon Dursley, who was sure that he would be incinerated on the spot by the stare of Dumbledore's eyes, Dumbledore was distracted when Remus began speaking.

"Ok, he's told us everything Dumbledore, here's what we know."

And Remus told the story of Vernon, so desperate to get rid of Harry that he took a suggestion from a co worker and sold his nephew into slavery. He talked about the two men who came in the night and stole him away. He told about the enormous sum of money he had been offered and given in exchange.

"What was his name?" asked Dumbledore.

Vernon looked up, shaking in his armchair. His arms were bound to the arms with conjured rope and he was still scared stiff from having the murderer Sirius Black stare him in the face.

"Daray Courtemanche…..th-that's his name! Never met the bloke though! Don't even know what he looks like! Honest! I can't help you anymore, I've told you all I know!" Vernon stuttered, wishing he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his life. All he'd wanted was to get rid of the filth, not drag more in to kill him.

"Where were they taking him? Surely you know that?" Remus snarled, leaning forward looking every bit the wolf.

Vernon recoiled and looked to be thinking very hard.

"Uh.….uhm…I…I don't know! The only person I ever talked to was British so he must still be here…he must…" Sirius lunged menacingly from the corner of the room and advanced as if to attack. Vernon let out a great, unmanly shriek.

"OK! OK! He…..They said something about…something in French. That's it! In France! They were going somewhere in France!" Vernon yelled out.

"Very well then. Lets go." Albus said, and started out the room. Both Remus and Sirius looked at each other and then ran towards Dumbledore.

"But Dumbledore, we're not just going to leave him here!"

"After all he's done! We're just going to leave him alone!"

"This is absurd!"

"We can't just let him free."

"Gentlemen!" Dumbledore shouted, turning around to face his two former pupils, "Wouldn't you agree that we have more important things to do?" He gave them each a look before turning around and continuing towards the fireplace. Sirius sighed and followed after throwing a menacing glance towards Vernon. After they both disappeared into the fire Remus turned and walked back to Vernon. He leaned in really close to Vernon's face.

"Don't you dare mistake this for mercy Vernon Dursley," He whispered "We will be back. And when we are back you will pay. You will pay hard for what you did to that boy. You can try and run, and I would if I were you…but we will find you, have no doubt about that. But while you're running, you can think about the fact that at any given moment a whole army of wizards could simply appear and make you pay. Because that's how many people love this boy that you just threw away."

Remus gave Vernon one more look before turning and stalking to the fireplace, leaving Vernon to sink down in his chair and ponder his fate.

Harry awoke in a lumpy bed. He first wondered why he was awake when it was clearly still night, when he bolted upright and looked around. They weren't in a basement. Harry was sure of that, as there were windows. Well…there were two windows but still. He looked around and saw Renee and Aimee still sleeping soundly. They were on mattresses that crowded the floor of what looked like a cramped apartment living room. He stood slowly and walked over to a window. He peeked out from behind the dark curtain.

He saw the most magnificent architecture. Turrets that were topped with what looked like swirled ice cream, buildings of every color. There were people milling about the street and just when he got the urge to try and pry the window open he felt an arm snake around his waist.

"_Do you like St. Petersburg, Harry?" _

Harry felt the familiar voice of Daray tickle his ear. Daray's embrace got stronger and his hands began to roam.

"_Well, I hope you enjoy the view, because it is the last of the outside you are going to see for a very long time."_ He whispered before pulling Harry back and pulling the curtain shut. "_You don't really think I'm going to let you out for another party after that stunt you pulled? You will work solely out of the house from now on. It may lose some money at first, but people always want what they can't have. So no worries….you will have plenty of customers."_

Daray turned back around and glared at Harry.

"_You almost lost me a lot of money and caused me a whole lot of trouble Harry. Did you think that would go unpunished? But how to punish you? I can't take away your customers, that would be like a vacation."_ He stepped up to Harry and ran a hand down his cheek. "_I can not mar your beautiful skin, that would hurt my product. So what do you have left?"_

Harry set his mouth in a firm line and jutted his chin up at Daray and stared him down. Daray chuckled.

"_Ah yes…your foolish pride. Well I know just how to take care of that."_

Daray gave Harry's face a gentle smack before heading towards the door. He turned around with his hand on the knob.

"_Oh yes, you may want to wake up your friend. You both have a customer."_

And with that Daray was gone.


End file.
