#Parsltongue#
"Speaking."
-Whispering-
<<Time Skip>>
Spells
Auther's Note (A/n)
"Warped voices."
POV Change
3rd Person's POV; The summer after 4th year
Vernon Dursly had just finished beating his nephew for not cleaning up the whipping cream mess that was left by Petunia, his aunt. As soon a Harry Potter was sure that his uncle was out of the room, he started getting up, whimpering at the pain of what he assumed was three broken ribs, bruised hip, and muscle damage along with the obvious cuts and visible bruises.
He finally got up and went to the restroom where he cleaned up the many cuts and other abrasions. He took 400 mg of tylenol and went to go lay down in his tiny cupboard. It was around two AM when he heard clanging in the kitchen. He rolled his eyes and got up wincing at the lessened pain. He crawled out of his cupboard and walked into the kitchen in just shorts.
When Bellatrix LaStrange, Rodolphus LaStrange, and Antonin Dolohov locked eyes with him, he sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.
"What do you three need?" He asked without batting an eye as he went over to the upper most cupboard, grabbing four shot glasses and some whiskey.
When his back was turned they saw the jaggedly cut word 'FREAK' freshly cut into his back.
As he turned, the took in the details of his face. There were many scars and new cuts littering the surface area of it and more, longer scars going down his chest and abdomen. He was dreadfuly thin. He placed the glasses on the counter.
"I assume it's to take me to Lord Voldemort, yes?" They nodded and he hummed.
"Very well then. I assume that you would trust the drink more if I opened a new bottle, so there." He poured the whiskey into the gasses and pushed three of them towards the three deatheaters.
He picked his own glass up and downed the shot, placing it upsidedown on the counter. The deatheaters looked shocked at his careless and unthreatend demeanor.
Bellatrix spoke up.
"Why are you not trying to defend yourself?" He looked at her, eyebrows raised.
"Bold of you to assume that I have that ability." They had all downed their drinks by this time and were looking confused.
"What do you mean 'ability'?" Rodolphus asked, genuinly. Harry looked at him with mock kindness.
"Oh, Rodolphus. It is hard enough to keep up the glammour I constantly have without my wand. Which, by the way, is in my trunk in a locked crawlspace in my cousin's room."
He rolled his eyes and continued. "But by the gods. Trying to duel three armed and experienced adult deatheaters at the same time? You must be mad. Dueling one of you would be enough to reduce me to ash in my current state, even with my wand."
The looked as though he had just explained quantum physics. "C-could you take off your glammour?" Dolohov asked. Harry nodded wordlessly and waved his hand over his features.
The difference was immediately recognized. He had shoulder length wavy, black hair with dark green and silver streaks throughout it. He had a snake tattoo wraping around his right arm.
-Holy shit.- Murmured Bella.
"Yeah, not exactly apropriate for any public space." They all gawked at his appearance for a moment but came out of the trance.
"We still have to take you to the Dark Lord." Rodolphus said.
Harry nodded, downing another shot of whiskey. "Okay then, just let me grab my things and we'll be off." They all gave a start.
YOU ARE READING
Light Turned Black {A DracoxAbused!Harry Story}
FanfictionAfter a particularly wretched beating from his uncle, fifteen-year-old Harry Potter is left to try and clean his gaping wounds. But, when three deatheaters come to his house in the middle of the night to bring him to Voldemort, he treats them as tho...
