Chapter 15: Evil Stalks Privet Drive

Number four, Privet Drive was no longer safe.  The Death Eaters hadn't found them yet, but they were close.  Headlines in the Daily Mail described an attack on a muggle boy not three blocks away.  The boy in the picture, although younger than Colin, could have almost been mistaken for him. The front page article said:

A young boy was brutally raped and murdered.  Although the police refuse to confirm, the mother of the boy had been heard to say, "They cut off his privates.  They took his winkle and nadgers."

The police did confirm that the boy had been strangled after being sodomized.  They refused to confirm that his privates had been cut off.

It must be the Death Eaters. But why had they changed tactics?  Why had they killed the boy, and why a muggle boy?  Had they mistaken him for Colin?  The boy in the picture resembled him.  Harry could see how they might have mistaken him for Colin. 

They must know that he and Colin were living with muggles.  Maybe -- disappointed that the boy hadn't been Colin -- they had killed him.  But raping him?  Had Malfoy become so evil that he was raping the boys he used the Neuterus spell on, because Harry thought the Neuterus spell must have been used on the boy. 

His mother had been quoted as saying that his genitals were gone.  The police probably wouldn't confirm that because -- if the Neuterus spell had been used on him -- they would have had no explanation for how it had been done.  The Neuterus spell left a boy with an empty crotch.  He could have been born that way, except that he had no pee hole.  How would the muggle police explain that?  No boy could achieve the age of twelve without a pee hole.

A week later, another boy was killed.  He had been raped; and although the paper carried no report of the boy's being castrated, a rumor was being circulated that he had been. At least, it had occurred a half mile away.  The Death Eaters must not yet know where they were.  That didn't keep Harry from feeling responsible.  Now, even muggle boys were dying because of him; and this last one had not even resembled Colin.  Twelve years-old like the first, he had brown hair.  He had been found in some bushes in a park.

To make things worse, another murder occurred the next week, and Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister, came to visit.  "Two of them?  What's got into you, Vernon?  It was bad enough that you took in Potter, but now another?  And he's not even a relation, just a friend of Potter's?

"It won't be for much longer," said Uncle Vernon, "just until Harry's seventeen.  Just a few more weeks, then they'll be gone for good."

"To a prison for the incorrigible, I hope," said Aunt Marge.  "This new one looks no better.  Have you considered that they might be behind the recent murders?  They only began this summer after these boys arrived.  You should turn them over to the police straight away.  It's a wonder you haven't been murdered in your beds."

Colin and Harry were eating at the counter in the kitchen while the Dursleys were sitting around the dining room table.  "That one," said Dudley, pointing to Colin, "got no dobber or bollocks, like the murdered boys.  Maybe Potter cut off his, too.  He buggers Colin -- Colin said he did."

Aunt Marge and his parents stopped eating to stare at him with their mouths open, "And I saw him once in the lavatory.  He got nothing down there."

"Yeah," said Harry from the kitchen.  "You saw him when you raped him."

"Dudders did no such thing," said Aunt Petunia.

"If you won't call the police, I will," said Aunt Marge.

"Good," call the police," said Harry.  "We'll tell them how Dudley raped Colin."

"If anyone's raping anyone," said Uncle Vernon, "it's you.  I've heard the noises coming from your room at night.  Disgusting it is."

"Harry doesn't rape me," said Colin.  "I want him to do it.  I didn't want Dudley to."

"You're letting them do this in your house?" said Aunt Marge.  "I know such things go on in the institutions where they spend the school year, but in your own house?"

"I told him I wouldn't have it," said Uncle Vernon, "but they sleep together and do it after I've gone to bed.  If I hear them, by the time I get up, it's too late."

"Does he really have no --" Aunt Marge looked down at Colin's crotch, talking about him as if he weren't there, "privates?" she asked Dudley.

"No," said Dudley, "nothing.  He got nothing down there at all.  Potter must've done him and he's doing the other boys, too."

Harry wasn't doing them, of course, but he felt responsible for them.  The Death Eaters were looking for him; so he said nothing in response to Dudley's accusation.  Aunt Marge took that as an admission of guilt.  "He's the one!" she said.  "He'd the murderer.  You must call the police, Vernon."

"But we have no proof," said Uncle Vernon.  "We only have suspicions; and how would it look if they turned out to be the murderers and everyone knew they were living with us?  No, they'll be gone in a few weeks.  If the murders stop then, we'll know it was them."

"But you might be murdered in your beds," Aunt Marge said again.

"I keep our bedroom door locked," said Uncle Vernon, "and keep my shotgun handy."

"Well, I don't like it," said Aunt Marge.  "Just look at them.  You can tell they're criminals just by looking at them.  Look at their beady eyes."

Harry looked at Colin.  He had the most openly friendly face of anyone he knew.  Colin was the last person he knew, who would hurt anyone.  He still greeted the Dursleys -- except for Dudley -- with a cheerful Hello, even though they hadn't once acknowledged him since he'd been at their house.  He would have probably still spoken to Dudley, if Harry hadn't forbidden it.

"It's the breeding," Aunt Marge began.  She'd gone off on that topic once before, angering Harry.  He had blown her up, and she had floated away, but the Ministry of Magic had erased her memory of it. 

But Uncle Vernon hadn't forgotten.  He shot a frightened look at Harry and attempted to change the subject.  "How was your trip, Marge?"

"Don't interrupt me, Vernon," she said.  "Now, as I was saying, it's all in the breeding."

But Harry had heard this before.  He knew -- if he stayed -- he would use magic on Aunt Marge again, and the Ministry of Magic would have to intervene.  He might have gone ahead, if Fudge were still Minister, but Harry didn't trust Scrimgeour.  If nothing else, they would place Colin elsewhere, and he didn't want that. 

He only had three more weeks until his birthday; then he could do magic legally.  Besides -- having matured during the intervening years -- he had better control over his emotions -- not much better, as his recent actions had proved, but better.  Come on, Colin," he said, "no one here has anything to say that we want to hear."

"Don't you walk away while I'm talking to you."  She hadn't actually been talking to him, had she?  She'd been talking about him, but not to him. 

Reaching for Colin's hand, Harry pulled the boy to him and kissed him squarely on the mouth.  "Let's go upstairs and fuck, Colin."

"All right!" answered Colin.

Harry heard the sound of choking and sputtering at the table behind him, but didn't bother to look back.  He'd just said it to shock Aunt Marge, but Colin had taken him literally.  He stripped off his clothes as soon as their bedroom door had closed and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him toward the bed.

"I was just kidding, Colin," he said.

"But you said we would," said Colin, a mournful look on his face.  "Come on.  You said we could."  He began unbuckling Harry's belt.

"Colin, you're a slut.  You know that?  But he smiled as he said it and didn't stop Colin from pulling down his trousers.  Maybe they'd provide a show for Aunt Marge.  Harry doubted she'd ever had sex.  Who would do it with her?

"Hurry," said Colin.  "Don't forget the Arse Lube.  After his experience with the Vaseline, Colin always made sure Harry had plenty.  Hedwig had made several trips to Diagon alley for it.

Maybe he was in love with Colin.  With Colin's unconditional love of Harry, he was easy to love.  And sex with him was good -- maybe not as good as with Ginny, but good.  Harry was worried, though.  What kind of sex life could they have after his genitals fell off?  What could two Eunuchs do for each other?  At least, he could get Ginny off with his tongue.  He'd never be able to do that for Colin.

That hadn't happened yet.  For another three months, he'd have a pecker.  He might as well make use of it while he could.  He couldn't tell Colin to find someone else, as he'd told Ginny.  At least not until Voldemort was dead. 

Maybe Ron would come live with them.  He didn't think he'd mind having Ron fuck Colin; but Ron wanted Hermione; and other than some comments about Colin's cute arse, he'd never expressed any interest in Gay sex.  But Harry hadn't thought of it before Colin, either -- Besides Colin wasn't exactly a boy any longer, was he? 

Was it gay sex with Colin?  Didn't one's partner need a cock for it to be gay sex.?  Making love to Colin was no different from making love to Ginny, except that Colin didn't have a clitoris.  Oh, Harry licked his pee hole sometimes -- and Colin seemed to like it -- but he couldn't get Colin off that way.  The only way Colin had an orgasm was when he fucked him.

Harry had never really had gay sex, in spite of what others thought -- unless whacking off  with Ron could be called gay sex, and if it were, then most of the boys at Hogwarts had had gay sex.  He'd never had a boy's pecker up his arse or in his mouth.  He'd never tasted another boy's come, not even Colin's.

Colin still squirted from his pee hole.  It wasn't as thick or white like Harry's, nor as much of it, but his orgasms were wet.  In other ways, Colin resembled a girl.  His breasts had grown.  They were the size of those of a newly pubescent girl; and they were sensitive.  Colin loved for him to suck on them.

Back at Hogwarts, Harry had brewed a potion to help Colin keep some of his masculine characteristics, but had run out of it soon after coming to Privet Drive.  Colin was still able to come; that's why Harry had brewed the potion.  Neither of them minded that he'd grown breasts.  With his shirt on no one could tell.  His breasts were a mouthful, not a handful.

Colin had sucked his cock, letting Harry come in his mouth.  He even said he liked the taste.  He'd become quite accomplished -- could do it every bit as well as Ginny.  Yeah, maybe Harry did love Colin.  He didn't need to fuck anyone else.

That night, though, Colin wanted it in his arse.

When Harry heard voices in the hall, he put a little spell on the door to lock it, not much of one -- certainly not enough of one to attract the attention of the Ministry, if used only once.  He heard someone rattle the doorknob; about the time, Colin came.  Smiling, he did, too, "Yes -- yes -- yes," he said in rhythm with his trusts.  He wanted them to hear.

Another boy was killed the next day.  He was only eleven.  This time the paper said he'd been castrated. "The boy's penis, scrotum, and testicles were missing," the article in the Daily Mail had said.  He had been raped and strangled like the other victims.  All attacks had occurred within a mile of Privet Drive.

Harry was beginning to suspect that the Death Eaters weren't behind the attacks.  Why would they kill muggle boys?  None of the recent ones had resembled Colin; and since all were under the age of thirteen, none could have been mistaken for Harry.  The attacks had begun within days of Colin's rape.  Harry had begun to suspect Dudley. 

Dudley had raped Colin, hadn't he?  He had even choked him; and Colin didn't have any genitals.  Dudley had sex -- probably for the first time -- with a boy who had no genitals.  Maybe he'd made some association between sex and boys with no genitals.

He couldn't understand why he hadn't seen it before.  Perhaps because he had expected an attack by the Death Eaters, and when the boys had been killed, he'd assumed it was they, who were killing the boys.  He had blamed himself; but if it were Dudley, he wasn't to blame.  The only ones to blame for Dudley were his parents and him.  He was a bully, and they'd spoiled him.

Harry decided to keep his eye on Dudley.

It was on his birthday that he caught him.  Maybe because it was his birthday and he could legally use magic -- and would be leaving Privet Drive -- he had paid particular attention to Dudley.  It was a coincidence that Dudley had chosen that day for another attack. 

Of course, he didn't know it was Harry's birthday.  Harry doubted any of the Dursleys could have named the exact day.  He'd never even had a birthday cake until Hagrid had brought him one the first year he went to Hogwarts; and Dudley had eaten that.  It had earned him a curly pig's tail, though.  Hagrid had given it to him.

Harry had seen Dudley leave the house.  He would have followed him, but that would have meant leaving Colin.  Even the chance of saving a muggle boy's life wasn't worth risking Colin's.  If Harry had an obligation to any one person, it was to Colin.

Dudley returned two hours later.  He was carrying a box and had blood on his shoes.  Harry waited for him in the hallway upstairs.  Dudley's bedroom was next to his, between his and Dudley's parents.  "What do you have in the box, Dudley?" he asked. 

"None of your business," said Dudley throwing his shoulder into Harry as he had in previous years.  He outweighed Harry by a hundred and fifty pounds. 

Harry bounced off the wall as Dudley shoved past him, pulling out his wand as he did.  Pointing his wand at Dudley, he said, "I want to see what's in that box."

"You can't use magic," he said, not looking entirely confident, "you're underage."

"Not any more," said Harry.  "Today's my birthday.  I'm seventeen today -- legal age in the magical world.  I can use magic any time I want.  Now, show me what's in the box."

Harry could see the panic in Dudley's eyes.  "It's nothing," he said, "just some junk."

"Let me see it."

Instead of showing the contents of the box to Harry, Dudley opened the door to his room, attempting to escape the confrontation.  He never had the chance to close his door.  "Stupefy," Harry said.

A streak of light shot from his wand, striking Dudley.  As big as he was, he was an easy target.  Dudley remained frozen with his hand on his doorknob.  Inside the box was a boy's penis, scrotum, and two blood covered testicles.  Without a doubt, Dudley was the murderer.

Prying Dudley's hand off the doorknob, Harry entered his room.  Inside a locked trunk he opened with a spell, he found five jars filled with alcohol.  In each was a penis, scrotum, and two testicles.  All but one of the penises had a foreskin.  One did not.  It must have belonged to the Jewish boy who had been killed.  It was the first penis Harry had ever seen without a foreskin.  Somehow, it seemed naked.

Releasing the Stupefy spell, Harry had Dudley come into the room, prompting him with an occasional jolt of lightning from his wand.  He sat him down among all his jars and the box he'd just brought home; Before he Stupefied him again, he said, "I'm going to freeze you, Dudley, then call the police.  They'll find you here with all your toys." 

Dudley pleaded with Harry.  "Don't call the police.  I'll never do it again."

But Harry knew he would, so he left him Stupefied on the floor with his collection of penises and testicles.  If nothing else, it was just punishment for all the years of abuse he'd suffered at his hands, and for what he'd done to Colin.

"We're leaving," he said to Colin, after he'd finished with Dudley.  "We're never coming back to Privet Drive."

Uncle Vernon was at work, and Aunt Petunia was at the store.  The two boys dragged their trunks down the stairs.  They would apparate from the living room to number twelve, Grimmuald Place; but first Harry made a telephone call.  "If you want the killer of all the boys," he said, when someone answered the phone at the muggle police station, "come to number four, Privet Drive.  You'll find your murderer upstairs, along with the evidence."

Harry was certain Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would say it had been Harry Potter, not their son who had done the murders, but as far as the muggles were concerned, he didn't exist.  Besides, they could check Dudley's DNA.  He'd left a sample of it in each boy's arse.

And if Uncle Vernon remembered he had a house at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, it wouldn't do any good.  All a muggle would see would be an empty lot, surrounded by a tall fence. 

Aunt Marge had been right.  It was all in the breeding.  Let Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon discover what they'd bred.

Harry had to concentrate.  It was difficult to apparate Colin, him, and the trunks.  He didn't want to leave anything behind.  Especially not part of Colin or him.  A flash -- and they were gone.