Warning: Brief and implied mentions of sexual abuse, physical abuse and self-harm.
For as long as Harry can remember, he had never had a permanent home in anyone.
Growing up in No. 12 Privet Drive, under the watchful eye of Vernon Dursley, Harry had often likened himself to a freak in a circus act, something to be gawked at and worked to the bone. He never got new clothes, always threadbare hand-me-downs that hung on his skinny frame.
He did not know much about his parents. He only knew his mother 'betrayed' the family when she got married to 'a hotshot noble' but in the end met her fate in a car accident leaving her child behind. Harry wished several times as a child that he had died with his parents.
He was a house pet.
Dudley always reminded him that he should be grateful that his parents still 'kept' Harry. He lived in a little cupboard under the stairs until he was eleven and was 'upgraded' to Dudley's old room. There in the barred windows and behind the locked doors, Harry would clutch the only old ratty blanket he had and sing himself to sleep.
Harry had prayed to the whoever was listening that he would present as a beta.
He knew he had no shot as an alpha. His body was too scrawny and he too fragile to ever dream to be an alpha of all things. But he hoped to be a beta. A simple ordinary every day beta that would have no problems running away when he was sixteen.
If he presented as an omega, he would belong to the alpha he was associated with by law until he was mated. Vernon was an alpha, a shitty one with a weak scent but an alpha nonetheless. Which meant he would be in the Dursely's hold until he was mated or legally tendered to someone else. It was a harsh and bitter fate but it was the world he lived in. Harry could not imagine anything worse than that.
Fate decided to bite him in the arse.
He was thirteen when he had his first heat, panicked and scared out of his mind. When he had emerged from his week long cycle, weak and barely standing, he was met with the vicious grin of Vernon Dursley who exclaimed that he would finally be useful for 'something.' On the very day, Harry met more men than he could count. All of them old with strange glassy looks in their eyes mumbling about his beautiful skin and wonderful scent as their filthy fingers inspected him.
A week later he made his first attempt at running. A few days later, he was caught by a police guard who sent him right back to the hell he escaped from. He was beaten within an inch of his life, beaten until the leather belt bit into his skin and drew blood.
He did not try again.
Vernon upgraded his punishment. He was not allowed to move about anymore. His chores had doubled. The visits of the strange men increased. Their touches became more invasive.
Harry was merely a shell passing for a human when he met his godfather for the first time.
Sirius was an outlaw, a person running from the law. He should not be a rile model for s child, but to the broken boy, Sirius was the man who hung the stars in the sky. He did not know why Sirius could not take him away but he knew the man tried everything. He growled at Vernon when the man hurt him, he took him to the fair for the first time, he got to see the movies, he even got to spend the summer with Sirius and his mate, a homey and sweet beta Remus.
Harry should have known his happiness would not last.
He was sixteen when he witnessed the cruel hands of 'justice' snatch the only happiness he he had know in his life brutally away. He had screamed, he cried, he yelled, he scratched at the hands confining him as the uniformed men took Sirius away but he could do nothing.
He spent two months in constant fear of what happened to his godfather. He got a letter from Sirius three months later that he and Remus had fled to France. Sirius' family had powerful connections in Paris, they would be safe as long as he did not step foot on English soil again. They would not be able to come get him, especially now that Remus was recognised as an accomplice by association. Harry was only glad that they were safe.
Harry was sixteen when he was forcefully stripped naked for the amusement of a crowd.
They were old men, wealthy enough to afford the delight of witnessing as he was stripped of his dignity in his uncle's basement. He could not see their faces through the tears that blurred his vision but he remembers their lustful gazes. If they paid enough, he was forced to sit on their laps. If they paid enough, they were allowed to touch him.
Afterwards, Harry would scream in his locked room. He would rake his fingernails over his skin until it bled and the pain washed away the feeling of those fingers on his skin.
Harry was eighteen when his uncle sold him.
He was young, beautiful, a virgin and unclaimed. To the wolves his uncle brought home, he was a fresh piece of meat waiting to be devoured. The man he was sold to was as old as Uncle Vernon himself, a whale of a man with greying salt and pepper hair and hawk-like eyes that made his skin crawl in disgust.
He was made to stand bare in front of the man as well...and checked everywhere. From his mouth, to his hips, to his taint to make sure 'he was tight enough and unsoiled'. Harry stood in hot water until his skin was raw and tender.
Two days before he was set to be collected, Harry ran away.
He packed the few things he had in a small duffel bag and the money he had been saving since he was ten. He stole the money under Dudley's mattress, the money in aunt Petunia's purse and all the cash he could find stashed around the house and fled to London.
He was young, still technically under the Dursely's care by law, bruised and beaten but was the freest he ever felt. He spent a few nights in a crappy motel, fearing for his life and went apartment hunting the next day.
He did not tell any of his friends why or where he was going. Hermione was already moving to London for college anyway so if he ever needed help he could meet up with her. He could not get a job since he was an omega without an alpha and technically a law breaker so he could only get odd jobs here and there until he managed to find his feet.
It had been a while since then. He was twenty-three now, still living under the radar, still running away from home, still scared...
But maybe he wasn't alone.
Sooo,
I was meant to update yesterday? BUTTTT I have no internet. I have a bit now, so I will try to update while I can. I hope this had provided a glimpse of Harry's past. I am sad he had to go through so much but he will be better, I promise 😔
Anyways, Don't forget to Vote and Comment, Lotsa Love....
Alenny13
