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givemefic · 4 years ago

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Chapter One: Sold

Title: Accepting Fate, Denying Destiny

Author: GiveMeFic

Fandoms: All for the Game/Harry Potter

Characters: All for the Game Crew, Harry Potter

Relationships: Canon AftG, Harry Potter/???

Rating: Explict, MA

Warnings: Explicit Language, Violence, Torture, Sexual Themes/Acts, Abuse of all kinds so be mindful (More to come I’m sure.)

Summary: Sold off at the tender age of five by his abusive uncle, and then again at ten, Harry Potter learned that life would always find a way to fuck you over.

“Because,” Kevin swallowed hard, “he starts this year.”

“Who?” Matt slung his arm over Dan’s shoulders. “Stop being so cryptic.”

He tapped his cheek, the number two stark against his skin. “Why do you think Jean is number four?”

Dan and Wymack both straightened. “Wait, so the third in your little cult court is going to play this year?”

“How can you be so sure?” Wymack asked.

“He’s the right age. And I heard that he came back to the Nest last year after I—“ He choked on his words. “After I left.”

CHAPTER ONE: SOLD

The boy shivered in the car, the warmth from the drive with his Uncle Vernon this morning had long since been replaced by the cold from the snow and freezing rain. He looked at the building his uncle had gone into. He hadn’t come back, and the boy winced when he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin.

“Don’t you dare get out or be seen, boy!” He’d almost recoiled from the hand that reached back, but he knew that the second hit was always harder if he did. Cheek blooming red and tender, the boy nodded and had been there, curled up in the floorboard ever since.

Only now he couldn’t stand it anymore. So he popped up, saw the lot empty of people, and he snatched his cousin’s spare coat from the back of the car. Dudley was three times his size, so the puffy coat was like a blanket. He stayed curled up and with practiced ease, the boy ignored his cramped stomach and fell into a light sleep.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but he came awake, trying to hold still. The door opened and the boy cringed under the coat.

“What the—“ The coat was ripped away. He looked passed his uncle and the sky had darkened and the snow wasn’t falling anymore. “Get out here, boy!” A meaty hand took him by the arm and the boy found himself falling out of the car and onto the now dirty snow covered ground. “Well, here he is.”

Lifted and barely able to stand on his own feet, the boy held back a cry as his shoulder was wrenched higher. One of his too big shoes fell off.

“He doesn’t look like much, tiny thing.”

He opened his eyes and saw a few people standing before his Uncle Vernon. Two men were outside a very nice looking town car. It was left running and the back door was open.

“Don’t let his size fool you, he works hard and listens well enough. Don’t you?” He shook the boy again and he couldn’t stop a whimper at the pain, nor his now bare foot was slipping in the snow. “You said,” Vernon cleared his throat and continued on in the same kind of polite voice he’d heard his uncle use when talking to his boss on the phone at home. “You said this would be enough to clear my debts.”

“Yes,” drawled the man in a heavy wool peacoat. “That’s if we find him suitable. Let him go.”

He fell to his feet and couldn’t stop himself from sliding to his knees. The overly large shorts, almost long enough to be pants on the boy, soaked through. He looked up at the strangers.

“Those eyes,” the other murmured. He took a cigarette out and lit it. “How old are you?”

He looked to Vernon and trembled.

His uncle answered, “He’s five.”

“Where did you find him? You claimed his parents are dead?”

“Yes,” Vernon spat. “My worthless sister-in-law and her husband got themselves killed when he was one. He was dropped on us and we’ve put up with him since.”

The man in the coat squatted down and leaned in to look closely at his face. “Any records?”

“None.”

“Medical?”

Vernon scoffed. “I wouldn’t waste money on him at a doctor.”

The coat man’s mouth thinned and the boy tensed, waiting for a rage filled hit or shove. Only he stood up and with practiced ease, lifted the boy from the ground and settled him on his hip. “Want to see, sister?”

From the open car door, a woman’s hand waved them over. It was dark in the car and the boy couldn’t see anything beyond the lit end of a cigarette. “He’s small, but seems willing to listen. Don’t you, young man?”

At first the boy didn’t know what to say, but the man holding him gave him a little bounce and raised an eyebrow. So he nodded and said, “Yes, Ma’am. My ears work good. Even though Uncle says they don’t.”

The other man burst into chuckles and the one holding him smiled. “Bit of an attitude too.”

Vernon was sputtering and took a step toward them with a shaking finger and a red face. “Listen to me to you loathsome brat—“

“That’s enough.” They cut Vernon off and stepped between him and the boy. “What’s his name?”

The boy frowned and said, “Freaks don’t get names.”

It was silent for a moment, then the woman spoke from the darkness. “Don’t they?”

“No, Ma’am.” He shook his head.

Vernon cleared his throat and with a croak he said, “It’s Harry. Harry Potter.”

The man holding him slid into the car while the other finished talking to Vernon and the b— Harry’s eyes widened when he saw the man backhand his uncle. He cringed into the lap of the woman he’d been passed to. He didn’t want to see what Vernon was going to do to the stranger. Only a moment later the door shut and when he peaked out, Harry saw both men sitting across from him and the smoking lady.

“Well, Harry,” she said, “welcome to the family.” He could now see in the dim lights of the street as they pulled away, that she was a very pretty lady. Her blonde hair was he same shade as Aunt Petunia’s, but longer and wavy. “I’m Mary Hatford. What do you think about coming to live with me now?”

“Mary?” The smoking man leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”

Her hand came up and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the hit. Only her fingers crept into his hair and gently detangled the mess. “I’m taking him with me back to Boston, Stuart.”

“What for?” Stuart tossed the butt of his now finished cigarette out the cracked window. “He’s small, we could use him as a runner. I bet you’re petty quick, eh, Harry?”

Harry nodded, dislodging Mary’s hand. “I run a lot faster than Dudley and his friends. And! I fit under the rose bushes! I don’t care about getting scratched, but Dudley always cries if the thorns bite him.” He reached down and rubbed at his bare foot. It had begun to tingle from the heat of the car.

Mary leaned forward and saw what he was doing. She pulled a coat from behind her and draped it over him, tucking his legs and feet into the warmth. “He’s coming with me. Abram could use a playmate.”

Harry frowned. “Who’s that?”

“My son,” Mary said. “He’s all alone in our big house.”

“He doesn’t have no friends too?”

“Doesn’t have any friends,” Stuart corrected. “And Mary, I don’t…” He lit another cigarette and sighed out a plum of smoke. Harry wiped at his eyes when they stung as the smoke filled the car. “Aren’t you worried about—“

“It’ll be fine,” Mary insisted. “Don’t you want to come live in a big house, Harry? My son is your age too.”

Harry blinked and asked, “Is your cupboard big enough for me?”

“Cupboard?”

He nodded. “For me to sleep. I’m not scare of spiders.”

Mary closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked down at him and said, “I think we can do better than a cupboard. How about your own room?”

“Mary,” the other man finally spoke up, “what will your dear husband say about this? He barely tolerates his own son.” He waved at Harry. “What do you expect will happen with him?”

Mary bit her lip and Harry pulled her coat up higher to his shoulders. “I’m doing what I can to protect him, William.” She stroked Harry’s hair again. “If that means sacrifices, then so be it.”

“Um,” Harry huddled down and asked, “where do you live? Is it far, far from Uncle Vernon?”

“So very far away,” Mary promised. “I’m leaving tonight to head back. I need to make sure Abram is alright.”

“Still can’t believe that arsehole made you leave him behind,” Stuart grumbled.

“Collateral.”

Mary glared at William for his comment. “I needed to come back, to get away and help settle things here with father… I’ve got some people watching him for me. It’s only been three days.”

“A lot can happen in three days.” William sighed. “But, maybe your new whipping boy will help ease your heart.”

“I will protect Abram above anything else,” Mary said, and Harry trembled at the anger in her voice. “And Harry here, he’s going to help me. Right, lovely?”

He hesitated, but said, “I’m too small to help pro-prot...”

Mary leaned over and tapped his nose. “You’re just the right size. But you’ll have to do some things that might be scary. Or even hurt. I promise to make sure you have lots of things to eat, and a soft place to sleep at night. But you have to make sure Abram is safe. Can you do that? It’s a big job.”

Harry looked at Stuart and William, but both of them were looking out the windows. So he nodded. He’d been hurt a lot before, but at least this time there would be a reason. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never say why they hurt him, they just screamed and threw things, or beat him.

He could make sure Abram was ok. Mary seemed nice, and he wanted to go far away from his family. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“You’re going to be perfect, Harry. They’ll love you.”

#harry potter #all for the game #crossover #fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfiction #accepting fate denying destiny

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