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.
Finnian Siog 