Chapter 1
It had been a few weeks since hell had come for him. Harry had tried so hard to hide his new presentation but to no avail. Shortly after being sent back to the Dursleys after the events of the third task, he presented, as an Omega. He wanted to be in denial when presentation symptoms appeared but couldn’t hide from the truth when he was in a full blown heat after.
He could barely sleep, plagued by nightmares of the graveyard that continuously haunted him. He could barely look at himself after his Uncle did something he hadn’t thought capable of. It was to his unfortunate luck when he presented while his Aunt and cousin were out of town for a few days.
He trembled, pulling his legs up and hugging them, trying to shut out the memories of how his Uncle touched him. He could still feel the phantom sensation of his uncle’s touch. Never in his life had he felt such hatred and shame as he felt now.
He couldn’t even protect himself, what would the wizarding world think of him. The-boy-who-lived assaulted by his uncle. He would prefer Voldemort over his uncle any day. At least then he wouldn’t be used in such manner.
He felt so disgusted by himself, he was dirty. Who would want him now?
Oh, how he tried to fight him but he didn't have the strength. His uncle was a lot bigger and stronger. He was skinny as can be due to years of starvation he faced under the Dursleys care.
He waited anxiously, gripping his blanket tightly. Any moment now, he would be used again. His uncle now had clients, who could have a go at him. According to his uncle, at least now he would be useful instead of being useless and a burden to them.
Useless that's what his uncle called him throughout the years. It had clung to him, at first he wanted his aunt and uncle to love him like they loved Dudley. Maybe if he tried to be useful, tried to follow their orders down to a t, maybe then he would be wanted, but it was never enough.
Now, his uncle wanted to whore him out to strangers for money. In the beginning, he had tried to stop his uncle saying that he would tell his aunt. He could still recall the memory of that conversation.
“Go ahead” said uncle Vernon in an amused tone. Then a second later his eyes narrowed and he started to painfully squeeze Harry’s throat “But just know if you do or try to tell any of your freakish kind or Petunia, there will be a price to pay.”
Uncle Vernon’s next words had him trembling.
“Owl steak does sound appetizing”
“You… you… wouldn’t dare ”croaked Harry fearfully, grasping at his uncles hands, trying to loosen them.
“Boy, don’t play games with me! I can easily make your life hell. If what you consider now is bad then just wait”
Finally uncle Vernon let go of him. Harry fell to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath, slowly rubbing his throat trying to lessen the lingering pain. He glared back at his uncle wanting to retort but decided otherwise. His uncle moved towards the door and turned his head back.
“It’s your own damn fault! Can’t even present as an alpha or a beta but a male omega. Your just begging to get fucked. Get used to it, that’s all your worth” growled Vernon.
Giving him one last look his uncle left his room.
Being lost in memory Harry barely heard the sound of footsteps approaching his room. When the door opened, Harry accepted his fate and tried to block out what was happening to him the best he could. He could still feel how his uncle’s client kissed him. Slowly going down his neck and sucking hickeys there. Flinching when the client moved lower, pulling down his pants and trying to jerk him off.
That was what he hated the most, he didn’t want to experience pleasure because if he felt pleasure then that meant he wanted this deep down. Meant that his body wasn’t even his own, couldn’t even control himself. He felt so shameful every time, he was just some whorish omega only good for a fuck. A lonely tear fell down his face and Harry accepted this would be his fate.
He tried pleasing his clients during sessions so uncle Vernon wouldn’t take it out on him because the clients were unsatisfied with his service. When he did well his uncle would tell him
“Good Boy”
Deep down, the small kid from the cupboard who yearned for affection and praise for years from his relatives, bloomed with happiness. He was finally useful. Maybe this was the way it should be. At least even if this was happening, his uncle at least wanted him and wasn’t that all that he yearned for? Someone who cared and loved him.
His friends didn’t care, they haven’t even written him. The whole summer was only dead silence from them. He wasn’t worth it. He was never worth it but to his uncle he gained some use, some worth. Even if his uncle was rough with him, he was at last wanted. He was uncle Vernon’s dirty little secret and he slowly stopped caring.
If he looked forward to it then maybe he would be in control. This might even be the way uncle Vernon showed his love his delusional mind whispered and Harry was reluctant to listen but the more he thought the more he found it agreeable.
He slowly got used to his new way of life. Uncle Vernon inviting clients when Aunt Petunia and Dudley weren’t home. Fucking him, when it suited him. It had gone to the point where his body couldn’t go without having been used. He tried to hide it but his body craved the touch of another, craved the euphoria he felt when he came. His uncle liked how dependent he was on him.
His uncle finally liked him.
That all crashed down when the dementors decided to attack him and his cousin.
He wasn’t wanted.