You Are Home to Me Part 1
He’d thought it was odd at the time that the Dursleys wanted him to come with them to the zoo for his cousin Dudley’s birthday. As long as Harry could remember they’d never considered including him in their family outings. In fact, they avoided interacting with him at all beyond barking chores for him to do or hurling insults. The only physical contact he had was when his uncle boxed his ears for doing something too slow or unsatisfactorily. They didn’t even call him by his given name most of the time and simply referred to him as boy when addressing him. Growing up, he thought that was how all kids like him being raised by their relatives were treated. He sometimes imagined what it would be like if his parents hadn’t died in a car crash when he was a year old, leaving him to the mercy of his only living relatives. It was hard to envision a life for himself where he was happily living with his parents, had friends, was able to do typical kid things rather than being treated like a personal servant. It was all he’d known for a decade after all. Besides, he expected he deserved it with his freakiness and all. The Dursleys certainly didn’t let him forget what a freak of nature he was for having both boy and girl parts.
He’d looked it up at school when he was eight since he was finally able to get books from the shelf by himself. He’d heard Dudley stumble over the word enough as he and his mates taunted him that he knew it by heart. Hermaphrodite. He was amazed his whale of a cousin could even read such a word, let alone manage to say it. He probably heard his parents use the term in hushed whispers as they discussed their burden of a nephew and latched onto it as a future tool to humiliate Harry. He probably hadn’t anticipated his scrawny cousin actually benefiting from knowing the proper term for what he was. After skimming through some books in the library Harry still didn’t know much more about his condition, to his frustration. Basically the gist of it was that people got surgery to make them just one sex so as to avoid becoming social pariahs. That didn’t help him much though, since there was no way his uncle would pay for such a thing. First of all, he’d have to admit he was related to such an abomination. Secondly, he already grumbled enough about being forced to take in his wife’s good for nothing sister’s spawn and waste money on caring for him. If making him live in the cupboard under the stairs, giving him his cousin’s ratty, oversized hand-me-downs, making him wait on them all hand and foot, and feeding him table scraps irregularly was the man’s idea of care. Harry certainly never received thanks or acknowledgement for his services. He didn’t even get a present on his birthday or Christmas, unlike his greedy cousin who took pleasure in opening mounds of presents in front of the smaller boy.
Needless to say, Harry was suspicious when his aunt Petunia rapped on his door the morning of Dudley’s eleventh birthday and ordered him to be ready to leave promptly. The only bright side of Dudley’s birthdays usually was the fact that the Dursleys always went out for the day to celebrate at a place of their son’s choosing, leaving Harry locked in his cupboard to lie in for the afternoon. Harry hurried to obey her though, knowing she would expect him to be presentable in a few minutes. He pulled on one of his less ratty shirts, as well as a pair of trousers that had to be cinched with a piece of rope, and trainers that Dudley had worn the toes out of because he used his feet to stop his bicycle. When the horse-faced woman yanked the door open shortly after, Harry squinted his eyes against the light that flooded in. Petunia tsked at his dilly-dallying and pulled him out into the open with a fierce grip on his shoulder, which she maintained as she frog-marched him out the front door towards the car. Dudley and his uncle Vernon were already impatiently waiting in the vehicle. Harry clambered into the backseat next to his cousin, a tight fit, and the overweight boy complained the entire way about having to sit next to the freak. His parents cooed from the front, letting him know they were sorry for their precious Dudleykins being forced to share space with the freak. Harry tuned them out, choosing to instead focus on the scenery passing by outside his window. He’d never traveled farther than the downtown square with his aunt when she took him to the local general store for a pair of cheap glasses when his teacher at school insisted he needed corrective lenses. They obviously weren’t going anywhere near the square for Dudley’s birthday though.
When Vernon parked the car Harry craned his neck to see their destination and couldn’t contain a grin at the large sign for the zoo up ahead. He’d always wanted to go to the zoo. Dudley continued to whine about Harry ruining his birthday until Vernon bought him an ice cream cone from a vendor near the entrance. The lady running the booth looked at Harry quizzically, clearly confused as to why he hadn’t received a treat. To the child’s utter shock she silently handed him a lemon ice and motioned for him to follow his family who were already making their way towards the animal enclosures. Harry happily munched on the frozen goody, the first treat he’d ever had outside of small candies at school. He trailed behind the Dursleys for some time, seemingly forgotten as Dudley obnoxiously declared every animal they passed stupid and/or boring. Harry was personally fascinated by all the different creatures, if a little sad that they had to spend their whole lives in a cage. When Dudley announced he wanted to go to the snake house, Harry was just finishing his sweet and turned to toss it in a nearby rubbish bin. When he looked back a moment later, it was as if they’d vanished into thin air. Harry scanned the crowd, trying to locate his relatives. It’s not as if they’d be hard to miss. Before he could become too frantic however, Harry felt pressure on his back and then a painful sting as his entire world went black.
To the casual observer it would appear as if a man were carrying his son out of the zoo after the boy wet himself, an accident that the Taser in fact caused. No one even considered he was kidnapping the child, and the Dursleys would later claim Harry had run off when he was taken. The only thing that suggested foul play would be the burn marks on the young boy’s back from the Taser used to subdue him, but those were safely concealed beneath his shirt. Once the man had exited into the parking lot he quickly made his way toward an unmarked white side panel van where he deposited his captive in the back. After pulling out of the parking lot and into the London traffic he carefully maintained the speed limit and obeyed all traffic laws, not wanting to attract attention as he drove out of the city limits. Roughly twenty minutes later he arrived at his destination, a large manor house on a hill in Little Hangleton, not that far from Private Drive where Harry’s relatives lived. The driver, an older man in his 50’s to 60’s although likely closer to 60, parked the van and walked unhurriedly toward the back of the vehicle to remove his captive. He was tall, with a full head of black hair that hadn’t fled with age and dark eyes though the whites seemed perpetually bloody. He appeared frail but the ease with which he handled the young boy’s weight belied the image he portrayed.
“Welcome to Riddle House my little Chosen One,” the man murmured to the unconscious child, cradling him against his chest as he made his way up the path to the house.
It was a beautiful home, surrounded by woods and far enough out of the city that the owner was generally left undisturbed. The inside of the home was equally splendid. There were two bedrooms each with its own private bath on the first floor, a living room, kitchen, dining room, and a study on the ground floor, as well as a basement. Each room was decorated tastefully in dark tones and simple textiles, with hardly any knickknacks or unnecessary items to clutter the areas. What was in the rooms however were clearly expensive. The man hurried to deposit his burden in the smaller upstairs bedroom. He removed the boy’s soiled clothes before fastening his victim’s wrists in manacles attached to the steel headboard. It offered no slack for the child to move about. The man had invested too much money in his deal with that oaf of a man Dursley to acquire the child just to have him run off at the first chance. He knew given time Harry would come around and realize he was better off with him rather than those despicable relatives.
He’d fought his urges for many years, making do with street walkers when it became too much to handle, but nothing could compare to sex with a child, innocent and pure, ready to be molded by the adults in their life. Tom had contented himself to mere fantasies and any pictures or stories he could find online. However, one day he’d been perusing one of his usual sites he used for mental fodder when he stumbled upon an ad by a man looking to sell his nephew as a sex slave. Interest piqued, Tom sent an email stating he would like to discuss the proposition further. The reply Tom got stated that the man, Vernon Dursley, had accrued quite a bit of debt gambling the past few years and needed some quick cash. He ineloquently stated he knew certain blokes were into sex with kids and willing to pay a lot to get them permanently. Tom was practically salivating at the prospect, and when Dursley mentioned he wasn’t asking a very high price for the boy because of his ‘freakishness’ he immediately decided he had to have the child for himself. Tom wasn’t overly choosy about the sex of his partners and the fact that this child would have both male and female genitals couldn’t have been better. He neglected to mention to Dursley how much more he would have been willing to spend for that sole reason though. In the end the transaction only set him back a little over 20,000 Euros. They agreed they would complete the deal the next week when the man took his family to the zoo. Tom was instructed to leave the money in a certain locker before taking the boy, Harry. When he’d first laid eyes on the child his heart had swelled in appreciation of his purchase. Dursley had sent a blurry photo of the boy but it did the child nowhere near justice Tom thought. He knew he had chosen well with Harry. It was made even more perfect by the fact that his relatives clearly despised the boy which would give Tom something to work with in currying the boy’s favor. With some training the boy would be molded to best accommodate his every need for as long as Tom desired him. As much as he looked forward to breaking Harry in and making him submit Tom relished the thought of the child willingly and actively engaging in sex in the future just as much.
He’d looked it up at school when he was eight since he was finally able to get books from the shelf by himself. He’d heard Dudley stumble over the word enough as he and his mates taunted him that he knew it by heart. Hermaphrodite. He was amazed his whale of a cousin could even read such a word, let alone manage to say it. He probably heard his parents use the term in hushed whispers as they discussed their burden of a nephew and latched onto it as a future tool to humiliate Harry. He probably hadn’t anticipated his scrawny cousin actually benefiting from knowing the proper term for what he was. After skimming through some books in the library Harry still didn’t know much more about his condition, to his frustration. Basically the gist of it was that people got surgery to make them just one sex so as to avoid becoming social pariahs. That didn’t help him much though, since there was no way his uncle would pay for such a thing. First of all, he’d have to admit he was related to such an abomination. Secondly, he already grumbled enough about being forced to take in his wife’s good for nothing sister’s spawn and waste money on caring for him. If making him live in the cupboard under the stairs, giving him his cousin’s ratty, oversized hand-me-downs, making him wait on them all hand and foot, and feeding him table scraps irregularly was the man’s idea of care. Harry certainly never received thanks or acknowledgement for his services. He didn’t even get a present on his birthday or Christmas, unlike his greedy cousin who took pleasure in opening mounds of presents in front of the smaller boy.
Needless to say, Harry was suspicious when his aunt Petunia rapped on his door the morning of Dudley’s eleventh birthday and ordered him to be ready to leave promptly. The only bright side of Dudley’s birthdays usually was the fact that the Dursleys always went out for the day to celebrate at a place of their son’s choosing, leaving Harry locked in his cupboard to lie in for the afternoon. Harry hurried to obey her though, knowing she would expect him to be presentable in a few minutes. He pulled on one of his less ratty shirts, as well as a pair of trousers that had to be cinched with a piece of rope, and trainers that Dudley had worn the toes out of because he used his feet to stop his bicycle. When the horse-faced woman yanked the door open shortly after, Harry squinted his eyes against the light that flooded in. Petunia tsked at his dilly-dallying and pulled him out into the open with a fierce grip on his shoulder, which she maintained as she frog-marched him out the front door towards the car. Dudley and his uncle Vernon were already impatiently waiting in the vehicle. Harry clambered into the backseat next to his cousin, a tight fit, and the overweight boy complained the entire way about having to sit next to the freak. His parents cooed from the front, letting him know they were sorry for their precious Dudleykins being forced to share space with the freak. Harry tuned them out, choosing to instead focus on the scenery passing by outside his window. He’d never traveled farther than the downtown square with his aunt when she took him to the local general store for a pair of cheap glasses when his teacher at school insisted he needed corrective lenses. They obviously weren’t going anywhere near the square for Dudley’s birthday though.
When Vernon parked the car Harry craned his neck to see their destination and couldn’t contain a grin at the large sign for the zoo up ahead. He’d always wanted to go to the zoo. Dudley continued to whine about Harry ruining his birthday until Vernon bought him an ice cream cone from a vendor near the entrance. The lady running the booth looked at Harry quizzically, clearly confused as to why he hadn’t received a treat. To the child’s utter shock she silently handed him a lemon ice and motioned for him to follow his family who were already making their way towards the animal enclosures. Harry happily munched on the frozen goody, the first treat he’d ever had outside of small candies at school. He trailed behind the Dursleys for some time, seemingly forgotten as Dudley obnoxiously declared every animal they passed stupid and/or boring. Harry was personally fascinated by all the different creatures, if a little sad that they had to spend their whole lives in a cage. When Dudley announced he wanted to go to the snake house, Harry was just finishing his sweet and turned to toss it in a nearby rubbish bin. When he looked back a moment later, it was as if they’d vanished into thin air. Harry scanned the crowd, trying to locate his relatives. It’s not as if they’d be hard to miss. Before he could become too frantic however, Harry felt pressure on his back and then a painful sting as his entire world went black.
To the casual observer it would appear as if a man were carrying his son out of the zoo after the boy wet himself, an accident that the Taser in fact caused. No one even considered he was kidnapping the child, and the Dursleys would later claim Harry had run off when he was taken. The only thing that suggested foul play would be the burn marks on the young boy’s back from the Taser used to subdue him, but those were safely concealed beneath his shirt. Once the man had exited into the parking lot he quickly made his way toward an unmarked white side panel van where he deposited his captive in the back. After pulling out of the parking lot and into the London traffic he carefully maintained the speed limit and obeyed all traffic laws, not wanting to attract attention as he drove out of the city limits. Roughly twenty minutes later he arrived at his destination, a large manor house on a hill in Little Hangleton, not that far from Private Drive where Harry’s relatives lived. The driver, an older man in his 50’s to 60’s although likely closer to 60, parked the van and walked unhurriedly toward the back of the vehicle to remove his captive. He was tall, with a full head of black hair that hadn’t fled with age and dark eyes though the whites seemed perpetually bloody. He appeared frail but the ease with which he handled the young boy’s weight belied the image he portrayed.
“Welcome to Riddle House my little Chosen One,” the man murmured to the unconscious child, cradling him against his chest as he made his way up the path to the house.
It was a beautiful home, surrounded by woods and far enough out of the city that the owner was generally left undisturbed. The inside of the home was equally splendid. There were two bedrooms each with its own private bath on the first floor, a living room, kitchen, dining room, and a study on the ground floor, as well as a basement. Each room was decorated tastefully in dark tones and simple textiles, with hardly any knickknacks or unnecessary items to clutter the areas. What was in the rooms however were clearly expensive. The man hurried to deposit his burden in the smaller upstairs bedroom. He removed the boy’s soiled clothes before fastening his victim’s wrists in manacles attached to the steel headboard. It offered no slack for the child to move about. The man had invested too much money in his deal with that oaf of a man Dursley to acquire the child just to have him run off at the first chance. He knew given time Harry would come around and realize he was better off with him rather than those despicable relatives.
He’d fought his urges for many years, making do with street walkers when it became too much to handle, but nothing could compare to sex with a child, innocent and pure, ready to be molded by the adults in their life. Tom had contented himself to mere fantasies and any pictures or stories he could find online. However, one day he’d been perusing one of his usual sites he used for mental fodder when he stumbled upon an ad by a man looking to sell his nephew as a sex slave. Interest piqued, Tom sent an email stating he would like to discuss the proposition further. The reply Tom got stated that the man, Vernon Dursley, had accrued quite a bit of debt gambling the past few years and needed some quick cash. He ineloquently stated he knew certain blokes were into sex with kids and willing to pay a lot to get them permanently. Tom was practically salivating at the prospect, and when Dursley mentioned he wasn’t asking a very high price for the boy because of his ‘freakishness’ he immediately decided he had to have the child for himself. Tom wasn’t overly choosy about the sex of his partners and the fact that this child would have both male and female genitals couldn’t have been better. He neglected to mention to Dursley how much more he would have been willing to spend for that sole reason though. In the end the transaction only set him back a little over 20,000 Euros. They agreed they would complete the deal the next week when the man took his family to the zoo. Tom was instructed to leave the money in a certain locker before taking the boy, Harry. When he’d first laid eyes on the child his heart had swelled in appreciation of his purchase. Dursley had sent a blurry photo of the boy but it did the child nowhere near justice Tom thought. He knew he had chosen well with Harry. It was made even more perfect by the fact that his relatives clearly despised the boy which would give Tom something to work with in currying the boy’s favor. With some training the boy would be molded to best accommodate his every need for as long as Tom desired him. As much as he looked forward to breaking Harry in and making him submit Tom relished the thought of the child willingly and actively engaging in sex in the future just as much.