Life Debt

Chapter 1

Life Debt

Published: June 19, 2021

***TRIGGER WARNING*** In case you didn't read the story descript... there will be repeated and constant mentioning of sexual abuse and assault, as well as suicide references in every chapter. It might get graphic. This is your only warning.

The dream was always the same. It wasn't supposed to happen like that.... He was in the forest, again. Voldemort was by the fire, speaking half to himself, half to the crowd of Death Eaters around him. Hagrid was nearby, tied up.

"I thought he would come. I expected him to come. I was, it seems... mistaken..." Voldemort queried.

"You weren't," Harry sound, trying to sound strong. Death was just the next journey. He was going to be with his parents, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Dumbledore and Fred. The battle was over for him. This moment was his destiny.

Voldemort raised his wand. "Harry Potter... the Boy Who Lived."

Harry tilted his head, bracing himself. He wished Voldemort would hurry up and kill him. He was losing his nerve. His wand, or rather Malfoy's old wand, was stashed in his robes with his invisibility cloak. He didn't want to risk using them.

Voldemort aimed his wand and roared, "Incarcerous!" and ropes suddenly enveloped him.

"What?" Harry said, startled, as he fell to the ground, trapped and bound. Voldemort came over to him and smirked at him triumphantly.

"You think I didn't feel it, Harry? Our connection? Dumbledore's failure is now complete. Don't worry... you're my new life insurance policy, pet. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," Voldemort purred. "Bellatrix?"

"Master!" she said, kneeling at his side, her breasts nearly falling out of her robes.

"Take him to Lucius's and guard him. Do not kill him. I have a battle to win. But wait," he ordered and turned to the crowd of his supporters. "Harry Potter is dead... I ripped his soul out of his body and sent it into the ether."

"They'll never believe you!" Harry yelled.

"Silencio!" Voldemort growled. "You forget I have another guest. Hagrid, my old school friend."

Hagrid struggled against his bonds, shaking his head. "No! Harry!"

"A little planted memory... to testify to the Chosen One's Death. My Death Eaters... I will bind you all by your marks. Tell no one he is alive."

A collective hiss went through the crowd, and Harry could see Bellatrix's brand flash bright orange. They wouldn't be able to talk about it, Harry realized as Voldemort ripped the memories out of Hagrid's mind. Then shimmery thoughts floated from Voldemort's mind to Hagrid's, too. When he stopped, Hagrid slumped to the ground, unconscious mumbling. "Harry... no...."

"Take my pet to his new home, strip him and put him in a cage."

"Yes, master," Bellatrix said and grabbed him, pulling him into her whirlwind, to hell.

But the horrible dream, of when his life ended, dispelled. Harry's eyes opened and he took a staggered breath. His naked body shook from abuse, but his senses were alert. Someone had come down for another round. Tears came out as it hadn't even been a few hours. The wolf had broken his wrist the night before, when he had struggled. He didn't know why he fought. Sometimes, he didn't. Weeks had turned into months, and there was no sign that anyone other than his capturers knew he was alive.

Voldemort had severed their mental connection as much as he could. He didn't want to feel Harry's pain and anguish, and Voldemort was trying now to figure out how to extract his soul out of him. Apparently, having the only remaining part of his soul encased in the person destined to kill him wasn't ideal for survival. Voldemort was hunting down books, only occasionally returning to test an idea on him and torture him a bit.

But the footsteps were not Voldemort's, he realized. They weren't Fenrir or Bellatrix's either. The others didn't come frequently enough for him to know which one it was. Harry shook as the new torturer was coming to hurt him. He cried and tightened into a ball, trying to protect himself. The cell door creaked open, and his guest stepped inside. He turned his face to the floor, not wanted to look upon them.

"Please..." he begged, uselessly. "Please just kill me...."

He didn't bother to look up. His glasses weren't on, though not gone. Fenrir liked him to see. The footsteps walked closer and stopped, staring down at his naked and defenseless body. Torture or rape. Harry didn't know what he'd rather have. Fenrir did both and Bellatrix liked to make him scream, but Yaxley didn't hurt him if he listened. He hated listening, but it was becoming harder and harder to keep fighting.

"Please..." he pleaded, wishing for deliverance.

"Drink this," a firm voice commanded.

Harry didn't fight, knowing it was hopeless. They could magic it into him. He was weak, beaten, abused and starved. The liquid wasn't foul, but his senses immediately dulled and pain started to fade. Harry wasn't sure what was happening as sleep was calling him. His eyes slowly closed as the figure knelt down.

"Sleep, Harry. I'll be here when you wake up," he said as fingers carded through his hair.