Title: Mostly Twitching

Author: SweetlyDesolated

Chapter Warnings: slash and het, sex, language, violence, mutilation, insane people, death

Author's Note: I am really rather proud of myself! I managed to write all of this in two days!

Italicized text – thoughts

+text+ – Parseltongue

"It's lovely to be back, my Lord," Bellatrix said. She tumbled out of her husband's clingy grasp to fall to her knees before Lord Voldemort.

Harry, face tucked against Rabastan's neck, grinned at his sister-in-law's enthusiasm. One of his eyes twitched, the one that was easily viewed by the watchers.

Rodolphus glared at Harry and his brother, and bent down to gather his wife once again. He gripped her left hand in his, lining their braided rings with jewels up. It caught her attention and Bella leaned back against her husband, though her twisted smile was still all for her Lord. It was wonderful to be back.

Harry stepped out of Rabastan's grip and offered his right hand to Voldemort. "Hi, I'm Harry Lestrange, nice to meet you!"

The Dark Lord stared at the petite man before him and warily stretched his own hand out to shake a greeting. "Lord Voldemort," he murmured back. The man cast a glance over Pot-Lestrange's shoulder to the boy's husband. His expression was puzzled and Rabastan just shrugged.

"Wanna play BS?" Harry asked the snake-like man.

Voldemort questioned P-Lestrange's sanity and carefully retracted his hand. Maybe Harry – yes, that worked a lot nicer – had been in Azkaban too long under the dementors influence.

It was then the hall of Voldemort's manor chilled; it seemed that all the joy in the place was sucked out. The few Death Eaters on the fringe of the room cringed and pushed back against the stone walls, as if that would make everything better.

The new Lestrange, though, just grinned and happily bounced on the balls of his feet. His husband had no feelings evident on his face. Bellatrix was becoming involved with Rudo, too preoccupied to bother with the sudden temperature drop.

Voldemort shivered as he leaned back in his throne-of-sorts. His spidery hands rose from their place on his lap to run up and down his arms, trying to soothe away the goose bumps. "What is that?" he wondered aloud.

Rabastan stared back at him curiously. "It's the dementors, my Lord. It seems they bored of Azkaban and decided to follow Harry to you."

Following the man's statement, the doors to the hall blew open, effectively sending chills down the very few still-composed people – save those fresh from prison. A dark, cloaked figure was the first to enter. The only sound it made was the hissing of its cape across the stone floor and the deep, panting breaths as it drank down the Death Eater's twisted happiness.

+Duane,+ it spoke.

Voldemort was shocked. The dementors knew Parseltongue? Why hadn't he known that! He had tried to barter with the infuriating creatures for years, and they never did anything other than Kiss whomever he gifted them!

+Hello, Rais!+ Harry replied cheerfully. He jauntily walked around his husband and approached the dementor, surrounded by a few more of its people. +I thought you were all going to stay at Azkaban,+ he stated.

The dementor shrugged, if it was even possible. +We got bored, and none of the other prisoners are as entertaining as you four were. There are still some of us there, but only the ones still near infancy, who require constant emotions.+

Harry grinned again, which seemed to cause his eyelids to tremble once more. A twitch, Voldemort reasoned, would come from one imprisoned so young. Although, it did not appear to have a negative effect on the wizard before him.

Rabastan smirked at his husband's infective happiness and drew a well-worn deck of cards from an inner pocket of his much-abused robe. "Look at what I have, Harry!"

The expression on his husband's face brightened, if it was at all possible. Harry snatched the deck of cards from Rabastan's hand and twisted down to the ground. He immediately set to shuffling the cards. Harry asked, "Who wants to play?" He pouted when he saw it was only his husband and in-laws, along with Rais and a couple other dementors. The teen dealt to the seven and watched from the corner of his eye as a few of the creatures wandered about the hall, slowly leeching the positive emotions from the others gathered.

The three dementors settled down to the floor, along with Bella, Rudo, and Rabastan. Their dark eye sockets glinted with an odd internal cheerfulness, one that even Harry couldn't begin to describe.

"Why me?" Voldemort muttered as he glanced around his hall. The arrival of the ex-Potter brought along the end of his obvious leadership, even in his own manor! It just wasn't right. He settled back into his comfortable throne and tilted his head to watch the strange game going on between the ex-prisoners and the old guards of Azkaban.

Eventually, Bella made the first move, sliding one card onto the empty center of the circle. She crowed, "Ace of spades," her jeering laughter at Harry's downtrodden expression filling the hall.

Rudo declared, "Two two's," and was happy no-one called him on it, especially as it was a bluff.

Harry translated, "A three," for the dementor. His own cards were two fours, which he easily slid onto the growing pile, a confident smile gracing his face.

Rabastan's claim, two fives, was quickly shot down by the man's husband and his cry of "Bull shit!"

"I hate you, Harry," the man said mildly as he gathered the pile and added it to his hand. He spat, "Cheat," to his brother once he saw the man's other card was a seven, rather than a two. The man smirked at him.

The cards went around the circle, with Rodolphus picking up the pile as he incorrectly called out Harry's jack when the sixteen-year-old's (1) eye twitched.

Voldemort quickly grew bored with watching the game. He stood from his throne, mumbling about the mentally retarded (2) and easily distracted ex-prisoners. He called out, "Dismissed," to his followers and glided from his throne hall, a pinched expression on his snake-like features. The Death Eaters tripped over one-another to escape the trembling effects of the dementors. The fact that Harry Potter, of all people, had gone dark and married none other than Rabastan Lestrange swept from their minds.

Snape's face was pale as he watched everything Dumbledore had striven for come crashing down. After imprisonment in Azkaban since he was thirteen, when it was his wand that had cast the final curse to Pettigrew, Harry Potter should have been a mess. Severus wondered just where Dumbledore was, for he had not seen the man in ages; no Order of the Phoenix meetings this summer made his work load amazingly easier, but he was still curious.

Snape leaned against the wall and enforced his Occlumency barriers to keep his emotions bland and away from the dementors. The creatures playing cards with the three Lestranges was shocking enough, but to see Potter, now Lestrange, mixed in with the crowd was…different and unexpected to say the least. He shook his head, greasy hair tangling from the motion.

He shivered from the chill in the room and tucked his black cloak tighter around him. After his own stay in Azkaban – he still flinched at the thought of those few weeks – he was unsure how the quartet had stayed sane. Maybe it was Potter and his gift with Parseltongue, for the dementors seemed to be under his control. And they were tame as well, considering frustrated hissing was coming from under the three cowls as Bellatrix discarded the last of her hand with a cheerful smirk.

It was Potter's next motion that really brought the house down around Severus's ears. The boy – eye twitch included – whipped out a wand and pointed it at Rodolphus, who seemed ready to jump his brother. The wand was pale and smooth, glinting in the dull light. Just from looking at it brought a feeling of intense doom to Snape and he closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the firm stone wall bracing his body.

"Let it go, Rudo," Harry proclaimed. His grip on his dementor-bone wand was steady as he pointed it at his brother-in-law. The motion was what kept the elder man from jumping Harry's husband. Harry had about had it with their fighting and the constant bickering between the two.

Rabastan grinned as Rodolphus swallowed, his eyes widening in slight fear as he was faced with the deadly wand of an equally deadly teenager. He gasped when Harry's elbow slammed into his gut, ramming the air out of his lungs. "What was that for?" Rabastan croaked as one arm went to ward off any coming blows and the other wrapped around his now-tender middle.

"You're just making things worse at this point," he said, keeping his wand trained on Rudo. Bellatrix was off to the side shuffling the cards and cackling at the misfortune of her in-law and husband.

+Take him away for now?+ Rais questioned. Its soul-sucking powers were stronger now that the creature was out of guarding Azkaban with its depressed occupants.

Harry tilted his head to the side. +Take both and drop them in their room. Then go terrorize a town for fun, but make sure not to Kiss anyone but the prisoners in jail.+

The group of dementors hissed happily. Rudo glared at Harry as his arms were heisted behind him and he was dragged to his feet. One lower dementor tucked him into his cloak, which could break through even the most defensive wards, as another grabbed Bella. Rais bowed to Harry with a respectful +Duane+ as its goodbye.

The dementors filtered through the walls, which brought Harry's attention to the lack of Death Eaters and Dark Lord. The only people in the hall were Rabastan, what seemed to be Snape, and him.

Harry's eye twitched as he gathered the dropped deck of cards, slid them together, and neatly tucked them away. He stood and meandered to his old professor. "So, Severus," he started.

The man glared.

Harry grinned. I love my life, he thought. "Seen Dumbledore lately?"

Snape was wary. Just what did Potter know? "No I have not, Mr. Potter."

His face fell. And then he shot the Glare of Death by Harry © to the Potions Master. "Lestrange, Severus, Harry Lestrange. Not Potter; I got rid of that tag-a-long when my wand was finished." He pulled out the smooth wand of bone and caressed the thirteen-inch length reverently. With a shake of his head and a muttered curse for his easy distraction, Harry tucked it into his sleeve once more. "Good luck finding the man then. I have to say I am quite glad to be rid of him."

Rabastan stepped forward, winding one arm around his little husband's waist and commenting with a smile, "Of course you're glad. It's your fault he, Granger, and the two little Weasleys are without souls."

Harry grinned up at him. "They like me! Besides, I spilled their secrets; the four couldn't have gone with their knowledge."

"And yet," Rabastan sighed, shaking his head, "you let Black walk free."

Harry shrugged and pulled his lover away from a slightly dumbfounded Snape. "He realized our vows are eternal. Not much I could do about that. Besides, he hasn't once bothered us, and it appears he never bothered to inform anyone else of what happened."

Somewhere in London, secure in his dreaded ancestral home, Sirius Black shivered and held his butter beer closer to his chest. He shifted closer to the fire, burning even in August.

Meanwhile, Rabastan smiled fondly. Harry hugged him and split from his husband. "I'm gonna go find someone to entertain me. Find out what's been happening from Severus?" he asked.

Lestrange pouted. "Is that all I'm good for now-a-days, information gathering?"

"Nope," Harry commented. He reached for his husband and tugged him down to his level, and then proceeded to ravish the older man's mouth passionately.

Rabastan pulled his husband into his arms, slightly lifting to ease the height difference. Eventually, they broke the kiss, both with slight hard-ons and very ruffled appearances. "See ya around," Harry murmured lightly.

He spun around, breaking his husband's grip, and pranced from the hall. Rabastan was left facing a much paler Snape who was having a hard time controlling his shock. "That's Harry for you," Rabastan explained, which wasn't much of an explanation at all.

Harry, on the other hand, was happy and cheerful as he gaily (3) skipped through the halls of the most feared Dark Lord of this century's manor. "Oh, Mister Dark Lord Voldemort, come out, come out, where ever you are!" he shouted.

Somewhere on the opposite side of his manor, Lord Voldemort shivered with a growing feeling of despair. It had started when he saw the Lestranges, and continued to get larger with each thing Harry Potter-Lestrange said. Now, he had a horrible sense of foreboding, and thought that just maybe Divination wasn't such a terrible subject after all.

Voldemort's giant, white snake Nagini was not happy when her sleep in a very nice sun spot just inside the manor was disturbed. When the calls continued, she hissed, her speech full of murder, and slowly uncoiled her body and set out to find and bite the perpetrator of her beauty sleep's disturbance. She couldn't believe her luck when the voice grew in volume as the person crying out for her master came closer and closer.

When the male, a young man at that, was just around the corner and so very close in reach of her strong jaws and poisonous fangs, Nagini lunged. She fell short and harrumphed in dislike. And then wished she had something to block out the vibrations from the voice quickly increasing in excitement. Then, it started speaking in Parseltongue and she couldn't find it in her to care any longer.

+Oh, a pretty snake! Such a pretty snake. I want to hold you.+

Nagini hissed out a faint gasp as her upper coils were suddenly lifted by surprisingly strong, bony arms and she was cradled to a somewhat-warm, equally-bony chest. Only when the scales behind her head were itched in just the right way did she calm. A lazy contraction of her muscles flicked the last few feet of her body from the floor and around this strange, new human.

He smelled like Harry Potter. Nagini hissed her displeasure. When the silly young man turned around and started to run with her, the snake tightened her body in fright and held on for dear life. Luckily, he was going in the direction of her master's hall, so she breathed out a sigh of relief that went unnoticed.

"Rabastan, look it what I found!" Harry screamed joyously when he entered the hall at a fast trot. Snape paled once again while Rabastan limited himself to rolling his eyes at his idiot of a husband. Maybe Azkaban fucked with his mind more than he thought. After all, early teenage years were key for development, and Harry had spent them locked in a dingy cell. He had that twitch still, and it was slightly concerning that it hadn't disappeared in the five weeks the quartet had been free.

+Shut up!+ Nagini screamed in furious hisses. She wriggled her body around until she could slide out of the human's grip. The ground was cold. Angrily, Nagini worked all of her muscles, quickly slithering off to find her master to complain about the new idiot occupying his manor.

Rabastan sighed and cradled his face in cupped palms. "You're an idiot, Harry. That's the Dark Lord's snake, Nagini."

Harry pouted and stomped his foot. "I want a snake," Harry told Rabastan childishly. Yep, he was definitely fucked up.

"You have the dementors! Why do you want a snake?" he asked, slightly astounded.

Harry shrugged. "It would be fun."

Lestrange sighed. Harry's eye twitched at the sound and he glared at his husband. "I'm gonna go and attempt to find the Dark Lord again. Don't disturb," he said forcefully.

It was Rabastan's turn to pout. Unless he sufficiently distracted Harry later, he wasn't getting any tonight. When Harry was gone, the man turned to a silently contemplating Severus and stated, "Azkaban fucked up his mind. Dammit, now there are two crazy people in the family!"

Snape coughed, and Rabastan could have sworn he heard the word, "Four," in there.

Severus was given the Glare of Death by Rabastan ©, which seemed to be more potent than the man's husband's glare. It's going to be a long day, the dour Potions Master thought.

Harry was following the irate hissing of Nagini, whom he figured was slithering strait to her master. It was just his luck that his figures worked out. A long walk later brought him to a plain door adorned with a small cat-flap-thing at the bottom. Rather than knock, Harry barged in. The door slammed against the wall and the teen hurriedly jumped out of the way from the rebounding wooden obstacle. He turned and glared at the door, which started to smoke ominously.

Voldemort distracted him with a firm, "Harrumph," and the door remained in tact.

Harry smiled serenely at the man. His expression brightened when he heard the irked hissing of Nagini, who was sliding out of sight, going off into Voldemort's elaborate rooms. The teen was disappointed, but made himself comfortable on one of the couches. This room was filled with two couches, one lounge chair, and Voldemort's desk. Books lined the walls and a fire burned merrily in the fireplace opposite the door in which Harry entered. Voldemort had a quill in his hand as he sat at the wood desk piled high with what looked to be reports. He frowned, displeased, at Harry, who then toed off his shoes and stretched out on his back, ankles crossed and arms supporting his head.

"So-o-o-o," Harry said. His eyes shifted back and forth across the ceiling suspiciously. "How'd you get a body?" This time, his emerald eyes zeroed in on the Dark Lord; the man seriously resisted the urge to shiver, and wondered how many brain cells Rabastan had lost in order for him to shack up with this teenager.

Voldemort replied, "Blood of an enemy, bone of my father, and flesh of an ally." He glared at Harry's happy expression.

"You must have done something wrong, in order to miss out on a nose and hair," the teen taunted.

The man mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?" Harry questioned icily.

Voldemort sighed in exasperation and spun his chair back to the paperwork. Maybe if he ignored Harry, the teen would go away and leave him in peace.

He was still trying in vain to think positively fifteen minutes later while Harry built a card tower on the low serving table placed before his couch.

A shouted, "Dammit," had Voldemort looking over his shoulder. He hissed in pain as he jerked a nerve, but smiled at the petulant expression on Harry's face as the teen assessed his collapsed tower.

Harry caught the man's glee and jumped up from his seat on the couch. He dragged Voldemort, chair and all, to the table and set to work shuffling and splitting the deck. Thirteen minutes later had Voldemort's hand considerably smaller as Harry's cards beat each one of his in a childish game of War.

Voldemort was developing a twitch of his own, much to his annoyance. He growled and chucked his cards at Harry. The teen cheered and threw his hand into the air. "Fifty-two pick-up!" The Dark Lord stared in dismay and slowly started to wheel his chair back to his desk. He buried his nose in his mountains of paperwork and hoped to someone out there that Harry would leave, soon.

A tentative Rabastan answered his prayers. The man casually entered his Lord's room, glancing around cautiously as he searched for signs of destruction that would indicate his Lord's ire and his lover's stupidity. The fact that Lord Voldemort was scribbling across many documents while Harry rolled on the floor, surrounded by cards, was a little worrying, but Rabastan shrugged the feeling off. "Accio cards," he muttered, and held his hand out as the things jumped from the ground and neatly organized themselves in his hands.

The cards were tucked away and the man approached his young husband. "Let's go, Harry. I think our Lord is preoccupied at this time," he told Harry as he crouched to be on his lover's level.

Harry splayed on his back, head tilted and eyes focused on Rabastan. "Yeah, sure, okay, let us leave the Super Evil Guy to his paperwork."

Rabastan slowly stood, gently pulled Harry to his feet, bowed to the Dark Lord, and hurriedly left the room. Voldemort could have sworn there was a breeze that followed them out, but pushed the thought from mind and concentrated on his work. Everything will get better eventually, he thought.

Meanwhile, Rabastan side-Apparated Harry to their house. The upstairs was filled with the passionate cries of Rudo and Bella, so the couple headed to the basement, where they started their own chorus of pleasured screams.

When finished, Harry rolled on his side and faced Rabastan. "Do you think it worked?" he asked carefully.

Rabastan flipped from his back to his side, one hand rising to tenderly cup Harry's cheek. "Did what work?" he responded curiously.

"Me, today, with the Dark Lord. Did it work?"

"What do you mean?" Rabastan was confused, to say the least.

Harry closed his eyes and murmured, "I thought if I acted mental enough, He wouldn't use me like Dumbledore did."

"Oh," his lover returned. At Harry's downfallen expression, he snaked his arm over his husband's waist and pulled Harry against his chest. "I think," he started, "you might have pulled it off. You acted fucked up before Snape, whose words and memories will only add to the Dark Lord's own impression of you. It was well enough that even I didn't realize that your actions were intentional. I thought your arrival and facedown with our Lord finished the breakdown of your mind from Azkaban."

Harry grinned and pushed until he was lying on Rabastan, his head pillowed on the man's chest with his legs spread to lie comfortably over the man. Rabastan pulled the sheets up over their slowly cooling bodies and wrapped his arms securely around his husband's waist.

"I'm glad I was proven wrong, my little love," he whispered sometime later.

Harry's smile was sweet as he pressed a gentle kiss to the flesh under his cheek. "Love you too."

The next morning dawned bright and early for the lovers, though Harry had plans to fix that. After a lovely shower together, the duo went upstairs for breakfast with the rest of their quirky family. Rabastan and Rodolphus exchanged equally sated glances, quickly broken by Harry's proclamation: "I have decided to go Muggle Hunting today. Who would like to join me?"

Bellatrix waved her arm in the air as she bounced excitedly in her chair. "Me! Me, pick me Harry! I always enjoy a good Muggle hunt!"

"That's one. Any other takers?" Harry questioned the others in the kitchen.

Rudo assessed his wife and decided it was in his best interests to join in the fun. Rabastan wasn't far behind at a threatening glance from Harry. "Terrific!" the teen exclaimed. "We leave in ten."

Rabastan barely had enough time to scarf down the rest of his food and pull on a new set of robes. Thank Merlin for owl-order, or the Lestranges would be stuck in their clothes from prison. He joined Harry at the front of the house and waited as the teen cast parseltongue-locked glamours on the others. Now, they all looked like nondescript people one would find anywhere in either world, as their clothing was casual and lacking robes.

Bellatrix called the Knight Bus and the quartet loaded on, seating themselves at a table in the back. The jerking of the bus went unnoticed; other passengers appraised the four from the corners of their eyes. The glamours may have masked their features, but nothing could dim the look of insanity inhabiting Bellatrix's eyes, nor hide the anticipation of revenge in Harry's.

A small town called Little Whinging was the destination of the plainly disguised group. The conductor let them off with a cheerful farewell. Harry glanced around once the bus was gone. It was different, being here three years later. The last time was just before third year, and now he would technically be entering sixth, if not for the tiny issue of prison.

Harry pushed the last thought from his mind and searched for something – anything, really – that would tell him what he wanted to know. The street sign perched at the end of the sidewalk brought a grin to his face and he set off to the left. The other Lestranges followed him, wondering just what Muggle Hunting Harry was going to do here, in the middle of a "decent" neighborhood.

Privet Drive was filled with cookie cutter houses and outdoor cats looking extremely similar to kneazles. The houses passed by quickly – numbers eight, six, and finally four. Harry stopped suddenly before the last, almost causing Rabastan to bowl him over. The teen didn't acknowledge the man's harried apology; his attention was completely focused on this plain house.

A mad grin overtook his features and he marched up the walk. Rabastan sighed and followed dutifully behind his little husband. The teen poked repeatedly at a button, which sent a tune flitting through the house. The door pulled open, displaying an exasperated woman, just as Bella and Rudo finished advancing up the walk.

"Hello," Harry greeted cheerfully.

"How can I help you?" the thin, horse-like woman asked, sneering down her nose, even though the elder Lestrange men were taller than her.

Harry shouldered the woman aside and entered the house. The woman cried out, affronted, behind him. She glanced around hurriedly when Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. "In, quickly now. Don't let anyone see you," the woman gasped, holding her door for the other three.

Still quite confused, the Lestranges entered. The door slammed shut behind them and was secured with a dead bolt. Harry was gone, having paced through the hallway and into the main living space on the first floor. Nothing had changed from when he was thirteen, he noticed.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" the woman demanded as she entered her kitchen.

A word muttered in Parseltongue cancelled the glamour the four wore and the woman paled considerably. "Hello, Aunt Petunia. Don't you remember me, your dear nephew?" Harry asked innocently.

Rabastan held back his choked laughter at the expression the large green eyes held as the teen gazed at the woman. A little peal of laughter slipped through his tightly pressed lips when Harry's eye twitched, which caused the woman to jump slightly.

"Why are you here?" Petunia questioned as she slowly moved away from the teen she hadn't seen in three years, and good riddance!

Harry shrugged. "I escaped from Azkaban. Do you remember Sirius Black? He escaped from there too."

His Aunt Petunia was quite pale; her long boned frame was trembling and she glanced around sporadically, as if hoping someone would come and find her before her rebel of a nephew harmed her.

"So now we're here for Muggle Hunting. It's quite a wonderful sport, one I think you'll appreciate."

Petunia fainted; Harry watched with wide eyes as her body fell to the tiled floor. "That looked kind of painful, don't you think?"

"Yep," Bella agreed. She pulled out her slightly curved wand, made from a rib of the dead dementor, and transfigured the woman into a small animal, which she then stuck in a conjured cage from Rudo. Bellatrix's wand had a core of dementor heart strings, which was helpful in transfiguration and killing curses.

Harry's wand was the radial bone of the same dementor, with a core of blood, breath, and skin. It was good for many things, though Harry mainly focused on charms and a few defense spells.

Rabastan had his own wand, the body of which was the thinned thigh bone of the dementor. Its core was ashes of the dementor's cloak, which enabled him precise skills with warding.

The last Lestrange, Rodolphus, had a wand made from fused finger bones. His core was the flesh of the dementor's stomach, where the souls were collected and digested. His strength was in binding, physical and magical, and conjuring items.

"And now, we wait," Harry commented. He advanced through the room and reclined on a couch. Rabastan came over and sat on Harry's stomach, only to find himself shucked to the floor. His sister and brother laughed at the glare he gave a mildly pleased Harry.

The four magical people didn't have to wait long for the next person to arrive. Dudley slammed the front door open, calling, "Mum!"

Bellatrix cackled loudly, which brought the fat boy into the kitchen and then the living room.

"Who are you?" he asked warily. The fat boy attempted to flatten his body back against the wall when Harry pulled out his wand and ran fingers down the bone; he only succeeded in spreading his flab over more space.

Bellatrix transfigured him into a hamster, one who attempted to run away but was too fat to do anything but roll.

Harry summoned it and placed it inside the cage. The critter chattered angrily at Harry, who glared and stuck it on the hamster wheel. A swift flick of his wrist had the wheel spinning madly; the squealing sounds of the boy-rat on the wheel filled the room.

Harry's eye twitched and he laughed through parted, smiling lips.

The teen vaguely remembered his uncle would return home from work at about five. "We have loads of time before the third Muggle is back. What should we do?" he said to his husband, emerald eyes wide with fake innocence.

Rabastan smirked and stood from the floor, where he had remained. He pushed his arms under Harry and cradled the teen to his chest. Rather than go somewhere else, the man dumped the teen to the floor and stole the couch. He lounged back on it and closed his eyes.

Bellatrix's crazy laughter faded as she and Rudo moved in the house. They found the staircase to the upper floor and slammed a door behind them as they entered another room.

Harry lazily stood up and straddled his husband's lap, pressing small hands against the man's chest. "Are you sure that's all you want to do?" Harry rocked his hips a few times and ground down on the man.

Rabastan grabbed for Harry's hips and pulled the teen harder against him. "I can be persuaded to do other things," he replied with a lust-filled grin.

"Very good," Harry told him, slowly unbuttoning his robes and letting the fabric drop to the floor. The fact that his aunt, who had finally woken from her faint, and his cousin, both animals and locked in a cage, could watch what they were doing had no effect on him. Maybe he had a little exhibitionism kink.

They lounged, naked, on the couch a while later. A glance to the clock on the fireplace's mantle had Harry saying, "Not long now. Want another go?"

Rabastan's eyes had Harry's eye twitching; it seemed like the man was fucking him with sight alone, rather than physically doing the nasty.

Vernon entered his house soon after. "Pet, I'm home!" He was curious as to the lack of dinner scents floating through the house, so he waddled his obese form through the hall and glanced around the kitchen curiously. Where was his loyal wife?

A moan off to the side had Dursley turn his head. His face brightened to red as he took in the sight of an elder, slightly emaciated man shove his cock up the arse of a thin teen positioned on his hands and knees. On the living room couch. Vernon was disgusted.

His face darkened to plum as bright, ecstasy-filled green eyes caught his own beady brown ones. Vernon felt as if he was about to hurl when the man grabbed the teen's hips harshly and jerked him back, causing the teen to throw his head back with a pleasured almost-scream.

Vernon growled, "What are you do –"

He was cut off by the elder man shushing him and holding a finger to his lips. "Shush, we're not done yet."

Dursley's hatred grew as their pace picked up until the elder man was fucking the teen nearly through the cushions. He was infuriated! Of all the things he could come home to, seeing this – two men fucking on his sofa – was not what he wanted! He wanted his perfectly lovely wife, his wonderful, healthy son, and dinner on the table! Was that too much to ask for?

The squeaking of two things drew the voyeur from the men to a small cage. In it was a very thin, almost starved creature, and one obese hamster slumped on a running wheel. This was too much. "Get OUT of my house!" he screamed.

Or, attempted to scream. His voice was gone, or it was overcome by the screaming of the coming teenager and the man as they reached completion together. Vernon fainted at the sight of sperm on his sofa. He loved that sofa.

Rabastan and Harry slowly came down from their high. Harry was grinning under his husband as he took in the sight of his uncle lying prone on the floor. Payback was quite nice, and was even better with his lover.

The man pulled out of Harry and spelled the sweat off of his body before dressing. Harry lazily cleaned the come out of his arse and off the much-abused sofa. He slipped into his discarded clothes and sprayed water from his wand on the fat man.

Vernon awoke, spluttering. His beady eyes opened and he gasped in fright as he stared up the length of a pale white wand, enclosed in the hand of the teenager. For some reason, seeing the teen dressed, he looked quite like his nephew, who ran away when he was thirteen. His life was simpler after that.

Dursley could do nothing as a woman appeared over him, a bent wand clasped in her own hand. He was suddenly growing smaller. That, or the duo above him was getting bigger. He screamed in agitation, only for it to come out as an infuriated squeak. This day just kept getting worse and worse.

His eye twitched again as he listened to the squeaking of the jumbo hamster on the floor. He picked it up, cringing at the unhealthy weight of the critter, and tossed it into the cage his husband held.

"Well, that's it!" Harry exclaimed. "Let's go irritate the Dark Lord."

It was then Bella felt the burning of her dark mark. Really, it was a coincidence. "Oh, he's calling a meeting!" She touched her wand to the mark and left with the crack of apparition. Rudo glowered at the empty spot next to him, before baring his own mark and pressing his jointed wand to it.

"Come on, Harry. I'll Apparate you there," Rabastan said, holding his arm out to his husband. Harry grinned and took both his arm and the cage. They disappeared.

Harry tugged his hood over his head, throwing his face into shadows, as he and Rabastan appeared in the manor filled with other Death Eaters. "It's my lucky day!" Harry called out. Rabastan rolled his eyes and tugged the smaller male behind him. His own face was behind a weakly conjured Death Eater mask; he'd have Rudo make him another when they entered the hall, since the remaining two Lestranges were already gone.

Harry broke out of his husband's hold when they entered the same hall as the day before. "Mister Scary Scaly Dude, lookit what I found! It's Muggles!" Harry screamed as he approached the man's throne, the cage swinging wildly at his side.

The Death Eaters around the hall cringed in fright of their Lord's soon-to-be anger. They were surprised when the man only dropped his head into his palms and stayed that way as the other skipped to his throne. When he waved another figure over, one bouncing around just as much as he was, the Death Eaters wondered just who their Lord was marking these days. The crowed, "Fix them, Bella," and the sequential baring of dark, curly hair matched with a twisted smile of glee answered the question of one. Now, who was the other? And how the hell was Bellatrix Lestrange out of Azkaban?

Voldemort cringed slightly as the insane witch reversed the transfiguration of the Muggles, still in the cage. The enclosure burst as the three Muggles grew, two out, one up. The family displayed was horrible to look at, for every single person there. The older man was obese, his son just a little smaller. The man's wife was painfully thin and seriously belonged at a stable.

Though they trembled with fright at suddenly being their regular size in a hall filled with magical people, the man let his rage speak for him, rather than his pea-sized brain. "BOY!" the man roared. "None of this funny business! Take us back, now."

Harry flinched back a little with fear reminiscent of his childhood.

The words the boy muttered, "Mummy, make the freak go away!" set the little Death Eater, the one who skipped into the hall and called the most feared Dark Lord a 'Dude,' into a pout, which was obvious by his stance. The male's hood was dropped, displaying a very pissed off Harry Potter. The Death Eaters cringed and wondered just what the hell Potter, of all people, was doing at the Dark Side's daily meeting.

"Okay, raise your hand if you want to watch the Muggles get Kissed?" he asked loudly to the gathered men and women.

Bellatrix bounced to his side, one hand waving wildly in the air, a very pleased expression decorating the visible portion of her face. A man that must have been her husband placed strong hands on the woman's shoulders to hold her in place. Both of Bella's arms rose, one for her, one for Rudo.

"Oh, come on! There must be others who want to see these Muggles get Kissed!" Harry cried, gesturing wildly to the gathered room. Slowly, hands rose into the air, cautiously, as if they would get punished for moving too fast. Lazily, their Lord stuck his own arm into the air, which prompted the rest to get a move on. "Awesome," Harry commented.

He rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, baring a pale forearm covered with twisting black runes. Beneath his mask, knowledge dawned on Rabastan's face. Now he knew what those marks were. Harry pulled out his wand and pressed it to one of the runes, the largest anyone gathered could tell. He hissed, +Rais,+ and waited.

Rabastan shifted himself in his pants. Harry speaking Parseltongue was hot and he wasn't about to claim anything different.

It was only a few moments later that the shadows grew and burst, displaying a gaggle of darkly cloaked things, floating above the ground. Each breath by the creatures was thick and wet, as if they were sucking in more than air.

The Muggles trembled; though they couldn't see the dementors, they could clearly feel the effects: chills, depression, and they could see the darkness that suddenly permeated the hall.

"No, no, please, anything but the Kiss," the woman pleaded. She fell to her knees and grabbed at Harry's ankles.

"Nope, sorry Aunt Petunia. You lost your chance for redemption."

The Death Eaters were enlightened. So, these were Potter's relatives, the people he grew up with. They were surprised they were Muggles, though. Most of the gathered thought the boy would have been left with a secretive Wizarding family. Apparently not.

+Are you hungry?+ Harry hissed to the one dementor who approached him. The Death Eaters shrunk back against the walls at the detrimental feelings the creatures exuded. No, these creatures weren't happy things. Now, how the Potter boy wasn't cringing back in fright of his prison-enforcers was a wonderful thing they would have appreciated learning.

Snape, hidden at the back of the hall, shoved and locked his Occlumency shields in place. He slowly advanced to the center of the hall, where he glared down his really large nose in disgust at Lily's pathetic older sister. He snorted to himself and stepped back.

+We would be delighted with Kissing these Muggles, Duane,+ Rais replied, having already deciphered what its Little Dark One wanted.

The grin lightening Harry's face was frightening. Only Voldemort knew what he said when Harry replied, +Marvelous. Help yourselves to these three then. I would love to watch.+

Harry settled down to the ground and propped his chin in his hands, eyes widened in anticipation.

The dementors chuckled darkly and set to the Muggles. Rais let its clan fight over who got the other two; it was going to enjoy Duane's uncle as if its existence depended on it.

The Muggles shivered in terror, especially Vernon. He could see nothing but blooming darkness as the invisible demenothingy came closer. And closer. He felt something pull out of him, something colored a dull, tarnished yellow. That bulb of yellow hovered farther and farther away from his body, finally disappearing inside the shadow.

The fat lump fell back, completely soulless and mindless. Rais wiped one slimy, gray hand over its dark hole of a mouth; if possible, its lips widened into a grotesque grin of joy. It always did enjoy eating people's souls, even when tarnished as this Muggle's was.

Harry crawled over to the Kissed man and pulled his wand out of his fixed sleeve. He chanted something that spelled away the fat man's hair. The next charm set his wand tip burning. The teen leaned over and pressed his wand against the fat man's skull. He burned something into the Kissed man's head, while Rabastan chuckled as he watched his lover. The scent of charring flesh had Death Eaters cover their noses with expressions of disgust.

He then used his burning wand tip to sear away the man's shirt. The large canvass of flesh beckoned the teen, who wrote, "Harry Potter-Lestrange's uncle – Kissed." Potter was crossed out rather ferociously.

Rabastan shook his head; Harry wrote 'Vernon' on the Muggle's head and then labeled the man's chest for all to see who he was. Though, Harry's script was rather lovely, especially when burned into skin.

Harry moved on to the Kissed Dudley, labeled the fat lump, and then wrote, "Harry Lestrange's cousin – Kissed." He continued to his aunt, wrote the woman's name over her face, and, on her back, burned, "Harry's aunt – Kissed."

He settled back onto his haunches and extinguished his wand tip. The dementors had long-since vanished back to where ever they had been. "So-o-o," Harry said while glancing around the hall. The Death Eaters were slowly recovering from the previous atmosphere. "Who wants to bring these to the Ministry?"

Three masked men started forward and cast lightening charms on the Muggles. When their Lord waved his hand at them, they Apparated out with the Kissed trio. Harry grinned at nothing and stood. He calmly walked to the Dark Lord and dropped down in the man's lap, lazily lounging on the snake-like man's legs.

To say the least, Voldemort was shocked, and slightly fearing of his life. Hopefully, the boy's husband would come fix this problem.

Rabastan glowered and dropped down in a chair Rudo conjured with his prompting. He summoned his petite lover to him and held Harry in place when the teen tried to escape. Rabastan dropped a kiss to his husband's head and settled back.

Harry grinned; his eye twitched.

Bellatrix pulled a deck of cards from an inside pocket and cackled. Rudo sighed in resignation. Rabastan moaned with despair. Harry laughed gleefully.

(1) Harry was imprisoned in third year, since it had been his wand that Sirius killed Pettigrew with. No one claimed that it was Sirius that killed Peter; all let Harry take the fall. He and Rabastan became involved when Harry was fifteen (yes, young, I know), and now he is sixteen. The timing of the first chapter is early July, while this is the middle of August.

(2) Retarded meant 'slow' before it became associated with someone with a mental disorder. The way I use it here is an exasperated Voldemort silently fuming about his mentally fucked up Death Eaters, who seem to have become dumber and more easily distracted with their near-fifteen-year stint in Azkaban.

(3) Gaily as in happily, for all of you nit-pickers.

Okay, I have no idea if there will be a part three. Maybe. Probably not. But, I didn't know this was going to happen either, so there. Since I took so much time, and made this chapter infuriatingly long, I would really appreciate it if you, the reader, would review!

~Deso

Edited 1/27/11