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.
Finnian Siog 