Three Lonely Souls

one

author's note: hello! here on wattpad, you probably don't remember this story, but this is a rewrite!! I hope that those who had issues with the story appreciate or even like the new chapter and the rest of it when I get to writing it! this isn't to say I changed it for the haters, my writing really was all over the place and I'm honestly happy with the change too!

RAPE WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER! please, please, PLEASE do not read this story if you cannot handle reading about rape and the consequences of it. I want all of you to be happy and healthy and if this story isn't it for you I understand. Stay safe and know your limits!

update: uhh i rewrote the rewrite. ish. i just made this chapter smoother, sorry for the notification if you aren't interested but i think it needed to be done tbh

much love, nammy xx

Harry Potter lay in the cupboard under the stairs, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as he struggled to pull himself together after another night in the Dursley home.

Everything hurt. There was nowhere his uncle hadn't managed to bruise, making every movement Harry made a chore. His back stung something terrible, Vernon having used his belt as a whip, leaving bleeding lashes in his wake. His thighs ached from where his uncle had gripped them tightly with his meaty hands, pushing them apart and making room for-

Uncle Vernon had done something different that night.

Beating Harry was something Harry had dealt with a million times before, but even so, Harry couldn't quite find the words for what the man had done to him tonight.

First, he'd said things.

Harry saw a spark in Vernon's small, greedy eyes as they roved over Harry that afternoon, something dark and dangerous. He'd muttered about Harry finally earning his keep, about Harry being useful for once.

To think that he'd thought Vernon simply had a new chore for him, a new something to slave over in the summer heat.

He'd been so scared, more frightened than he'd ever been before, and it had felt so... wrong. It felt like all of the spiders in his cupboard were crawling on him and no matter how hard he rubbed or scratched or slapped, they kept coming, almost like they were crawling out from under his skin.

Harry thought that by now, he knew fear and he knew how to handle it. He had faced Voldemort so many times, he had lived, he had learned...

But what could he do when sweaty hands were tight around his wrists, holding him down, bruising him? What could he do other than clench his teeth as his uncle tore at his neck with his teeth, marking him at the juncture of his neck and his shoulders?

He cried out, screamed until another sweaty hand sealed across his lips, silencing him. His uncle whispered threats in his ear and suddenly Harry was rendered mute. His mouth moved but nothing came out. His lungs heaved in the air to create sound but betrayed him by not making a single noise.

He could hear his heart beating like a jackhammer in his ears, thud thud thudding in his chest in terror. It felt like his body was splitting, his eyes screwed shut as he prayed for it to be over.

He wanted his parents. He wanted Sirius. He wanted someone to stop it.

Why hadn't anyone come to stop it?

After it was over, his Uncle shoved him back in the dusty, spider-infested cupboard like a discarded toy.

Harry wished desperately that it was the last time, but the look on his uncle's face the next day told him it wasn't.