Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9054298.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Gundam_Wing, Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Trowa_Barton, Heero_Yuy, Duo_Maxwell, Hermione_Granger,
      Zechs_Merquise, Draco_Malfoy, Ginny_Weasley, Ron_Weasley, Quatre_Raberba
      Winner, Chang_Wufei, Severus_Snape
  Additional Tags:
      Sexual_Slavery, Slavery
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-25 Chapters: 3/? Words: 6849
****** Shattered Pawn ******
by ammiehawk
Summary
     The war against Voldemort ended in the DoM and Harry, having
     fulfilled his purpose, was discarded by the Wizarding World. The
     Dursleys no longer obligated to care for their nephew do the
     unthinkable and sell him into slavery, now common in Muggle world.
***** Prologue: Sold *****
Prologue: Sold!
 
Harry Potter lay on his bed in the smallest bedroom of number four Privet
Drive, his back bloody from his most recent beating from his uncle. It had only
been a week since he returned to his relatives’ house from Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry, but what with the recent downfall of Voldemort, he was
at their mercy.
Though he wasn’t really sure why, it had surprised the young savior how fast
the wizarding world had turned their backs on him once his purpose had been
completed. Not that he got credit for it though. No, that had gone to
Dumbledore, who had been seen with his wand pointed at the snake faced bastard
as he drew his last breath. Fudge had immediately apologized to the old man and
declared him, once again, the defeater of a dark wizard. But in truth, it had
been Harry who had killed Voldemort once and for all, with the help of
Bellatrix Lestrange, amazingly enough.
After Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather, had fallen through the Veil, Harry had
followed the bitch who sent him through, intent on avenging his godfather. He
managed to slow her up with the Cruciatus Curse, but he just couldn’t perform
it correctly. Just after she got back to her feet, Voldemort had shown up,
followed almost immediately by Dumbledore.
The two had fought for what felt like hours, and finally Voldemort decided to
bring Harry into the fray. Using the link of Harry’s scar, he managed to shift
his spirit into the younger wizard. While Dumbledore was distracted by this new
turn of events, Bellatrix decided she would eliminate him as a threat to her
master. But as fate, luck, or whatever higher power you prescribe to, would
have it, her aim was slightly off and the green jet of light sped past the
wizened old Headmaster and hit the immobile form of Lord Voldemort instead.
When the realization of what she had done hit her, the Azkaban-crazed woman
turned her wand on herself and ended her own life.
Voldemort’s spirit, no longer having a body it was attached to, tried to take
over Harry but couldn’t and was driven out. When Harry finally regained control
of his body, he began an incantation Hermione had found to send an unanchored
spirit on a one way ticket to the other side. As Voldemort’s spirit dissolved
into vapor, his body convulsed once before finally lying still, never to move
again.
At that exact moment, Fudge and almost every other Ministry official showed up.
The Minister of Magic offered a full apology and pardon to Dumbledore on the
spot, and then, after hearing the Headmaster’s account of what had just
happened, went over and picked up Harry’s wand, snapping it cleanly in two and
sentencing him to live the remainder of his life as a Muggle.
All his assets in Gringotts were distributed to various charities, as stated in
his parents’ will, while his school supplies, as well as his prized Firebolt,
would go to less fortunate Hogwart’s students. It was just lucky for him that
his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map were hidden in his jeans pocket at
the time or he would’ve lost them as well.
As Harry lay there, his mind wandered to the most recent reason for his uncle’s
wrath: Hedwig. He hadn’t seen his former pet since the Ministry had snapped his
wand and he’d assumed she had been assigned as one of the school owls. However,
the letter she had delivered to him proved that theory wrong. It was from
Hermione Granger, one of his best friends and former year mates at Hogwarts.
The letter had been worth the punishment thought. Apparently, Ron, his former
best friend, and his sister, Ginny, had believed Dumbledore’s bullshit about
him and had also taken partial credit for Voldy’s fall, as well as claiming the
majority of his personal belongings. However, when Hermione realized this, she
wrote both of them off as her friends and had put in a transfer to Beauxbatons.
And, according to the letter, she had been accepted and she and her parents
were in the process of moving to France.
Harry was glad that at least one person believed he wasn’t going to take
Voldemort’s place as Dark Lord. He was also extremely relieved that Hedwig had
picked the witch for her new owner. He knew Hermione would take good care of
his faithful pet.
He came back to the present as he heard the front door slam. He curled up into
a tight ball, knowing his uncle had just returned from wherever he had gone
after bloodying his nephew. He vaguely thought of throwing himself out the
window as he heard the heavy tread of his tormenter coming up the stairs.
Before he could muster up the strength to do anything, the door flew open,
flooding the small room in bright light. He threw his hands up over his head,
hoping to shield himself from the light and whatever was about to come his way.
“I see what you mean,” said a voice he didn’t recognize. “He’d be the perfect
gift to sweeten the deal. However, the back will have to be treated before we
can make the offer. We wouldn’t want to offer him damaged goods, now would we?”
“Of course not,” his uncle snorted smugly. “I’ll have the missus come up
immediately and get him cleaned up for transportation.”
“You have your raise, Dursley,” the stranger said, stepping closer to the bed.
“Even if the merger fails, this little one will fetch a charming profit.”
Harry felt his hands being lowered forcefully and something was slipped around
his neck.
“I’ll be back for him in the morning,” the stranger caressed Harry’s raven
locks tenderly. “Be sure he’s bathed as well, wouldn’t want the little slave
smelling of sweat and blood.”
Without another word, the pair left the room, plunging it back into utter
darkness. Harry let out a soft whimper as what was said and done actually sank
in. His uncle had just sold him into slavery! For a raise! Tears stung his eyes
as he reached up to touch the soft leather of the slave collar now adorning his
throat.
***** Chapter 1: The Deal *****
Chapter 1: The Deal
Quatre Rebarba Winner sat at the head of a long table in the middle of a
conference room on the twentieth floor of his London based office of Winner
Enterprises. He resisted the urge to lay his head in his hands and massage his
temples, as the businessmen around him would take it as a sign of weakness on
the young CEO's part. Behind him, his friend and temporary bodyguard, Heero
Yuy, took a step forward, noting the signs the blonde was emitting.
"Gentlemen, please," he said quietly, effectively ending the argument that had
been circling the table for the past five minutes between his board of
directors and the man currently trying to associate with their company. "I can
see your concerns, Mr. Holden. However, you have to realize, that Winner
Enterprises does have its own interests to look after as well. We cannot, in
good conscious, sign the contract you are presenting to us. While Grunnings may
be the leader in drill production on the Earth Sphere, there are more reliable
companies that don't have the shady history that yours does. It would be
foolhardy of us to sign exclusive rights to you."
"I assure you, sir," Mr. Holden bared his teeth in what he obviously thought
was a winning smile. "We have dealt with any and all problems that have come to
our attention."
Quatre snapped his fingers, and Heero placed a file in his hands, "I have here,
a report, gathered by my own investigative team, on your company and current
employees."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, sir," Mr. Holden's brow furrowed in confusion.
"In this report," he tapped the folder in front of him, which Heero himself had
compiled for him, "we found several entries that cannot be explained. The most
worrisome ones are the sudden, substantial increases in pay to certain
managerial positions. Now, I will give you the opportunity to explain these
raises, for lack of a better term, without which I will not put my name or
company behind yours."
"Ah," Mr. Holden leaned confidently back in his chair, so the little whelp had
decided to check in on him, not that it mattered, he wasn't doing anything
illegal. "Grunnings has recently branched out into a slightly lucrative side
business. Those raises are for my employees who have helped with that end."
"And just what exactly is this lucrative business?" the blonde Arabian leaned
forward, placing his elbows on the table and supporting his chin on his hands.
"We need to have everything in the open before I'm willing to sign anything."
"I'm glad you asked, Mr. Winner," Mr. Holden smiled broadly, taking the younger
man's posture as curiosity. "We would actually like to present you with a gift
from our side branch."
The older businessman pushed to his feet and made his way over to the door. He
stuck his head out and said something to someone waiting outside. A moment
later, a small teenage boy with messy black hair walked sedately into the
conference room, his head bowed and shoulders hunched. If Quatre or Heero had
to guess at his age they'd have said around 13 or 14 years old.
"As you can see," Mr. Holden placed his hands on the raven haired youth's
shoulders, "he is a striking lad. Not only is he good at cooking and cleaning,
he is also quite capable in a wider variety of areas," he waggled his eyebrows
suggestively at the blonde teen.
"I see," teal eyes flashed dangerously as he realized the implications of what
this man was talking about. "Your gift is most generous."
"It's not a problem, he was the first of several I acquired," Holden beamed as
he confidently took his seat once again, nudging the boy in the direction of
the blonde CEO. "So, do we have a deal?"
"It appears I have no choice," Quatre allowed a small smirk to cross his face,
and Heero instinctively tensed up, sensing the ZERO system coming to the fore.
"Yuy, the contract, if you will."
The messy haired former Wing pilot nodded once, knowing exactly what was going
on in the blonde's head. He flipped open a file he'd had in his hands and began
perusing the items inside. The businessmen around the table began fidgeting
nervously the longer the brunette took, as if expecting the little blonde to
explode in the mean time. Almost a full minute passed before Heero pulled out a
paper and handed it to the CEO.
"Thank you," Quatre flashed him a slightly crazed smile, before passing the
paper down the table. "Mr. Holden, if you would be so kind as to place your
signature on the bottom, we shall be done here."
"Of course," Mr. Holden grabbed his pen and barely scanned the paper in front
of him before placing his signature at the bottom.
He then passed it back down to the Winner Head. Quatre nodded once it had
reached his hands, placing his signature underneath the other man's. He then
handed it back to Heero, who placed it back in the folder, and then slowly
pushed to his feet.
"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Holden," his smirk now held
a very confident edge. "My people will be in contact in a few days. Gentlemen,"
he addressed the remainder of his board of directors, "if you need me, I'll be
in my office."
With that he turned on his heel and walked out of the conference room. Heero
followed, ushering the 'gift' along with a hand to his arm. The other
businessmen left at their leisure, all of them knowing they had work to
complete before going home for the day. One old man, however, decided to see
his young boss about what had just happened in the meeting.
Quatre reached his office and was preparing to break something, hopefully not
his fists, Sally would get mad at him for that. How could that bastard expect
him to calmly accept that fucking, underhanded, disgusting practice? It was
because of the slave trade that two of his best friends were now considered
outcasts. His fist finally curled around a ridiculously expensive vase and he
threw it against the wall with a scream. As the pieces rained down on the
leather sofa beneath it, there came a gentle knock on the door.
"It's open," he barked out, his eyes darting around for something else he could
get away with breaking.
"Mr. Winner... Quatre," Mr. Winston, the old board member, sighed, stepping
into the office. "You need to calm down."
The blonde took a deep breath before turning to the old man, "What can I do for
you, Winston?"
Mr. Winston took a seat in one of the chairs across the desk from the Winner
heir, "You can begin by telling me why you accepted that man's merger. I
thought you didn't approve of the slave trade, or anyone who took part in it."
The former Sandrock pilot chuckled maniacally, also taking a seat, "I didn't.
And I don't. He just thought I did."
"What do you mean?" Winston's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"I just bought Grunnings out from under his nose, at a fraction of what it was
worth," the blonde smiled, his eyes still carrying a manic gleam. "He was
foolish enough to sign the contract without reading it. Now, Winston, I want
you to be in charge of cleaning it up to WIE standards. I expect the reports on
my desk in two weeks. And here," he pulled the evaluation report out and handed
it to the old man, "I expect the circled names to be discharged immediately."
"Understood," Winston stood up, a proud smile across his face. "I knew you'd be
good for this company, I always told your father as much. Enjoy your vacation,
Quatre."
The young CEO nodded, glad the man had understood his intentions, "I will see
you when I get back."
"Go on," the old man laughed. "Go set that slave free, I know you plan on it."
The offhanded comment brought the teen up short. He turned blank teal eyes on
the man standing inside his door. Winston wasn't sure what to make of that
look, it was so lost and helpless, so unlike the normally confident young man
who ran this company with an iron fist.
"I can't," he said hoarsely, then cleared his throat. "It isn't possible to set
a slave free, not until their time is up. The collars around their neck ensure
that."
"I'm sorry," the old man blinked, pulling his young boss into a tight fatherly
hug. "I didn't know. I've never paid attention to the slave trade."
"It's not your fault," the former Sandrock pilot sniffed, pulling away from
him. "I'll see you later."
With a final wave over his shoulder, the teen made his way out of his office
and toward the car park, where he knew Heero would be waiting.
8888888
Harry wasn't sure what was happening to him anymore. The days since he'd been
given his collar had seemed to bleed into one gigantic nightmare, from which he
couldn't wake.
Once his uncle and Mr. Holden had left, his aunt had come up to the room, and
began cleaning the wounds on his back. Not that she'd been very gentle about it
at all. No, she'd marched him over to the bathroom and forced him to take a
scalding shower. Once that was done, she poured a whole bottle of peroxide over
his back and only dabbed at it to make sure it didn't get on anything else.
She'd then wrapped fresh bandages around his torso so they could heal properly,
or so she'd said.
The following day, Mr. Holden had returned, as promised, and taken him away
from his relatives. He had heard his uncle tell the man that he knew how to
cook and clean, and that he was also good at lawn work. And that's what Harry
had done, he'd cooked and cleaned for Mr. Holden, a confirmed bachelor, for how
long, he wasn't sure. The worst part, however, had come later.
From the condition of his back he could tell several days had passed, when he
was summoned into Mr. Holden's study after dinner. He tried so hard to forget
what he'd been forced to do while he was in that room, but he couldn't. That
horrid treatment had continued repeatedly, until today. The only consolation he
took away from that experience was that he hadn't been physically taken by the
older man.
He wasn't sure about now though. Would his new master be like Mr. Holden? Would
he expect the same things from him? He barely suppressed a shudder at the
thought. He knew better, however, than to get his hopes up. When had anything
good ever happened to Harry Bloody Potter? There were times he wished he could
just curl up in a hole somewhere and die, but even that dream eluded him.
Head still bowed, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the person walking
next to him. He had never been a good judge of age, but he'd have to say this
boy didn't look too much older than he himself was. The blonde in the
conference room, his new master, hadn't looked much older either. Would that
make them nicer to him, or worse? If the scowl this one was throwing him was
any indication of how they'd treat him, he was in for a world of pain.
He blinked back his circling thoughts, they were starting to give him a
headache anyway, and just decided to see what would happen. There was no point
in worrying about what might happen to him when he hadn't even had a chance to
properly meet his new master. Just as this thought entered his mind, the man
beside him stopped next to a long black limousine.
8888888
Heero wasn't happy with the turn of events going on around him. Oh, he knew why
his blonde friend had accepted his 'gift', he sneered at the title. He knew
that Quatre was appalled by the slave trade, as were all of the former pilots,
but there was nothing any of them could do about it. Not that two of their
number had any legal rights to do anything about it anyway, even if they'd
wanted to.
The slave trade had started up mere weeks after the fateful events of Christmas
A.C. 196. Apparently, the Barton Foundation had gotten their hands on hundreds,
possibly even millions, of the collars and had passed them out to select groups
of people throughout the Sphere and surrounding colonies. Everyone had been too
caught up with making sure on other insurgents were planning a coupe to pay
attention to the under-classed people of the ESUN. By the time the Preventers
had noticed something going on, it was too late to stop it, without going into
another full on war. No one wanted that, so they decided to overlook it, hoping
it'd just go away.
His features darkened as he thought of the consequences of their stupidity. Not
only had innocents all over the Sphere and in the colonies become enslaved, but
his own lover had as well.
It had been scant weeks after the uprising and Duo had returned to L-2, when
those bastards struck. They had come to his mechanics shop, and surrounded him
as he worked on one of the machines. His years on the streets, and subsequently
fighting a war, had led him to giving quite a fight before they finally
resulted to drugging him. The other pilot refused to tell him, or anyone else,
what happened in the months before Heero had found him, but when he had it was
too late, the highly recognized collar was already in place.
The Perfect Soldier had tried everything within his power to remove the
abomination from his lover, but there was nothing he could do. The simple
looking collar had turned out to be a thin, yet unbreakable, piece of gundanium
alloy surrounded by soft black leather, clasped together with a time-release
lock. They had both employed every technique they could come up with to crack
that lock, but nothing worked. There was just no way to remove the collar
before the time was up.
With that being the case, the former Wing pilot had taken custody of his lover,
hoping to wait it out. Not that the braided teen was treated like a slave at
all. Yet it did hurt the former street rat that he could no longer go out on
his own, his collar making him lower than the lowest prisoner. It hadn't been
until later that something else had come to their attention.
A few months after they had exhausted their resources, while on a supposedly
routine mission for the Preventers, Wufei Chang had been captured. The
bastards, after repeatedly torturing the Chinese agent, had slapped a slave
collar on him as well. After his rescue, by an elite team that consisted of all
the former pilots, including Duo, they had taken a closer look at the time
lock, at Lady Une's insistence. What they had found had caused their blood to
run cold and the Preventers to actually step in and place some forms of laws on
the growing trade.
The time locks, they discovered, came in three levels, each denoted by the
color of leather used. A light tan collar was the least amount of time given, a
five year lock. The next was a medium brown, and was a ten year lock. However,
the final color, the one that both Duo and Wufei now wore, black, was set for
life.
The lesser locks were discovered to be controlled by a computer chip that could
not be removed or even traced back to the computer controlling it, no matter
how many times Heero tried to hack into it. The black ones were, for all
intents and purposes, infallible. After the Preventers had banned the use of
the black collars, they had taken all of them, not in use, in for further
examination. They ran all sorts of tests and it was discovered that they only
opened twenty-four hours after the heart stopped beating, making it impossible
for a human to fake the collar into believing they were dead. His frown
deepened at this train of thought. While the Preventers had made it an offense
punishable by death for anyone to use a black collar, there were still some
floating around that they hadn't managed to get a hold of during the original
sweep.
With these thoughts going through his head as they reached the car, Heero's
hand shot out and, ignoring the boy's flinch, lowered the collar of his shirt,
revealing for the first time the monstrosity that adorned his slim neck. His
eyes widened fractionally as his mind registered what he was actually looking
at. He fumbled slightly for the phone attached to his belt, his hand never
leaving the boy's shirt. Finally, after a moment, he had the desired number
dialed and the device was ringing in his ear.
"What is it, Heero?" Quatre's anxious voice answered.
"Call Une," he said stoically, but the other could tell something was horribly
wrong.
"What's wrong, Heero?" the blonde asked, his voice low and Heero could tell
ZERO was still close to the surface.
"It's black, 04."
There was loud swearing on the line before it went dead. But it continued to
fill the covered parking garage as the former Sandrock pilot made his way
toward them, causing Harry to cower in on himself.
***** Chapter 2: Expanding the Fold? *****
Chapter Notes
     Well, I had this chapter lying around, so I figured I’d give to ya’ll
     as a bonus Christmas present.
Chapter 2: Expanding the Fold?
 
Wizarding World
 
A large crowd gathered around the steps Gringotts Wizarding Bank in Diagon
Alley, wizards and witches of all ages milling around awaiting the auction the
Ministry of Magic was holding for the reconstruction of their world. The
auction was to start at noon, which was only moments away. It was rumored that
many belongings and estates of former Death Eaters were to be up for sale, so
the turnout was impressive.
At noon, several men approached the platform that was set up in front of the
entrance to the bank. An excited murmur spread through the gathered crowd, an
anxious anticipation settling over them. As the clock struck twelve, the
Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, approached the podium and placed his wand
to his throat, muttering a spell.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he called, his voice magically magnified, “if I could
have your attention please. We will begin momentarily, but first I have a few
words. As you are all aware, all proceeds from this auction will be used for
the restoration of the Wizarding World following the devastation brought on by
You-Know-Who and his followers known as the Death Eaters, will not receive even
a Knut of the money earned today. Also, if you are the winning bidder, please
have your money present at the time of purchase. If you cannot supply us with
the appropriate coin, the item will be returned to the block and placed up for
bid again. With that being said, let the bidding proceed.”
Several estates, houses, antiques, and all manner of things ended up on the
block. Some of the bidding was intense, while other things went for a fraction
of the value, but that’s how auctions normally go. As evening approached, the
auction was finally drawing to a close. It was down to the final ten items,
which up to this point had been kept under wraps. The crowd which had
diminished slightly over the course of the day was starting to get restless for
the end.
“Now, we are down to the final items,” the Minister called. “We have ten very
unique and very rare items. However, with this, we at the Ministry, are
planning on installing a new system of punishment for criminals. Now, for the
next item up for bid we have the former Potions Professor at Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry: Severus Snape.” There was a collective gasp among the
remaining crowd as the dour man was led onto the platform. “Now, don’t be
alarmed, I can assure you he is completely harmless, for you see, this collar
around his neck,” he indicated a deep blood red collar adorning the man’s neck,
“this collar suppresses his magic so he is no more a threat than a common
Muggle. What say we start the bidding at two hundred Galleons?”
Someone in the back put up their mark.
“Two hundred, do I hear two fifty?”
A tall blond in the middle of the crowd held up his mark, his pale eyes
assessing the wizard on the block.
“Two fifty. Three? Three hundred.”
The one in the back bid again. The blond turned a dark glare on his bidding
opponent.
“Five hundred,” he said, challenging the other to counter.
“Five hundred Galleons?” the Minister nodded looked to the back as well. “Do I
have five fifty?”
The figure shook their head, bowing out of the bidding.
“Very well,” Fudge continued. “Five hundred, once. Five hundred, twice. And
sold! Sir, if you would please come forward and pay the clerk, you can claim
your property.”
The blond made his way forward, and crowd parting easily before him, and went
over to the table beside the podium where a redhead with horn rimmed spectacles
sat. A large ledger was open in front of him. He motioned the man forward and
began scribbling on the parchment.
“Name?” he paused his writing.
“Zechs Merquise,” the blond answered stoically, pulling out his money sack.
“Very well,” the redhead wrote down his name. “That will be five hundred
Galleons.”
As he was dealing with the clerk, the auction continued on behind him as they
brought out the next prisoner. Once he had paid, the man was led away by
another Ministry worker. He was slightly confused, but followed nonetheless. He
was taken to a side street where his purchase was already ready for transport.
He waited for the Ministry worker to leave again before approaching the Potions
Master.
“Severus, are you alright?” Zechs asked, his voice full of concern.
“I’m fine,” the spy sneered. “Why did you waste your money on me? Draco is
still there. He needs your help more than I.”
“I’m going back for him in a moment,” the former OZ officer shook his head. “I
couldn’t just leave you to suffer this fate on your own.”
“Then go!” Snape commanded. “I’ll wait here for you.”
“Very well,” the blond nodded and headed back the way he had come.
When he reached the entrance to the street, he found his Ministry escort was
still there. He didn’t think too much of it until he walked by him to return to
the auction.
“And just where do you think you are going?” the man grabbed his shoulder,
halting his progress.
“I mean to return to the auction,” Zechs tried to shrug him off.
“You have your purchase, take it and leave.”
“Excuse me?” he frowned. “There is more I wish to buy.”
“You have your purchase, take it and leave,” he repeated. “Otherwise, I will
have you arrested as a Death Eater supporter.”
With that threat, the Ministry worker pulled his wand and pointed it at the
blond. Zechs held up his hands in surrender and headed back down the side
street. Snape watched his return with a confused look in his dark eyes.
“What happened?”
“Apparently, I’m not allowed back in,” the former pilot frowned. “But don’t
worry, I didn’t come alone.” He raised his hand to his ear, activating the comm
device. “This is Wind, do you copy?”
“Report,” came the answering command.
“I’m not allowed back in,” he said more calmly than he felt. “However, I need
you to make a specific purchase. The individual is a young blond male named
Malfoy.”
He cut off abruptly as he noticed the Ministry official trying to eavesdrop.
With a scowl, he grabbed Severus’ arm and apparated away.
                                    888888
Back in the crowd, Lady Anne Une pressed her hand to her ear, “Wind. Wind, do
you copy? Damn it, Zechs!”
She gave a sigh of frustration as all she received was static. Cursing about
incompetent agents, she turned her attention back to the auction. They were now
down to the final three items. A blonde woman, the only female she had seen
among the prisoners, was led forward.
“Now, we have Narcissa Malfoy up for bid,” Fudge called. “I’ll start the
bidding at two hundred Galleons.”
No one in the crowd made a move to bid on the haughty looking woman.
“No,” the Minister continued undaunted, many of the others had gone for lower.
“Do I have one fifty? One hundred fifty? One hundred? Very well, seventy-five
Galleons? Quite the bargain at seventy-five.”
“Seventy-five,” a female voice came from somewhere to Une’s left.
“Seventy-five. Once. Twice. Sold.”
A girl, for she couldn’t be more than a teen started moving toward the stairs.
It was hard to distinguish much of her appearance, except her youthful face,
due to the hooded cloak she wore. She made it to the front and paid the clerk
and was then led away like all the others before her. Une, however, turned her
attention to the next prisoner, a tall male with shoulder length blond hair. He
was by far the youngest male prisoner she had seen yet, aside from the one
Zechs purchased and the female, but Zechs had asked for a young blond male.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I offer Lucius Malfoy up for bid.”
The bidding started almost immediately with several parties entering in. Une
waited till things had quieted a bit before entering the bidding herself. It
was finally down to her and a squat toad-like woman in the front. Finally, even
the toad bowed out when it reached fifteen hundred Galleons. With a triumphant
smirk, the head of the Preventers made her way forward to pay.
Her smirk faltered, however, as a platinum blond teen was led out to the block.
“And now,” Fudge announced proudly, “I feel we have saved the best for last. I
give you, Draco Malfoy. What say we start the bidding at five hundred
Galleons?”
She slammed her hand to her comm, “Fire, win that boy! That’s an order.”
The bespectacled woman stalled at the table, listening to the bidding war going
on behind her. She bit her lip anxiously when she heard her agent enter the
fray. She let out a relieved sigh when the Minister finally stared the count to
close. Her heart almost stopped, however, when another voice interrupted.
“Two thousand Galleons,” the person called, their voice magically magnified.
The bitter taste of defeat filled her as she knew her agent did not have that
much money with her, and it had been made clear that all purchases were to be
paid on the spot. Anyone who had tried to go into the bank to retrieve more
funds had lost their purchase and been turned away.
                                    888888
Quatre made his way to the car, still fuming over what that bastard had done.
He knew he needed to call Une, so justice could be served, but at the moment he
knew he wasn’t thinking rationally. He finally reached his friend and the
newest acquisition into his life and turned his full attention to the raven
haired boy.
“Who did this?” he demanded sharply, indicating the collar.
Bright, wide, emerald eyes met his for barely a moment before they closed and
the boy seemed to brace himself for an assault. Quatre took a staggering step
back, clutching at his heart, as he registered the sheer terror radiating off
the boy.
“Get in the car, Quatre,” Heero said quietly, placing his hand on the blond’s
shoulder.
The CEO nodded, his eyes wide as he slid into the back seat of the black limo.
Heero gave a slight prod to the new teen’s back, indicating he should get in
with the blond. Once he was seated and buckled in, the brunet went to the front
door and slid into the driver’s seat.
It didn’t take them long to get out of the parking garage and on the road. All
three of them were silent, none of them knowing what to say at the moment.
Quatre was still trying to get over his anger so the boy would stop being
afraid of him. Heero was taking his own fury out on his driving, not something
a normal person should do, but as it was the former Wing pilot, it just meant
he took a few more risks while headed to his destination. Harry was too scared
to say anything, so far it seemed like he would get off easy with his new
owner, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last.
                                    888888
Duo Maxwell walked morosely from room to room, his boredom evident in the gusty
sighs he emitted every five feet or so. Too bad no one was there to distract
him.
The soft black ears atop his head twitched irritably as he heard movement
coming from one of the rooms upstairs. Amethyst eyes narrowed as he turned his
full attention to the disturbance, as he sniffed the air. He snorted derisively
as he registered who exactly was in the large house. Looked like Quatre was in
for a pleasant surprise when he returned.
Alas, that did nothing to alleviate his own boredom. The fox demon sighed again
as he continued his journey through the many rooms of the house. If only his
boyfriend would get there, then he could have some fun of his own.
Too bad he couldn’t go out and do something, anything. However, the collar
around his neck prevented that action. The bastards who had done that to him,
fortunately, would never be able to repeat the process, as he had taken great
pleasure in killing them. But that’s what happened when you messed with a
demon. Not that anyone knew that fact though, he had even managed to keep it
from Heero.
No, Heero would never know what had happened. He cherished his boyfriend too
much for that. In fact, the former Wing pilot didn’t even know he was a demon.
He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if that fact ever got out.
No one ever wanted to associate with a demon, even if they were the relatively
harmless variety, like foxes.
He had just turned to begin his trek through the house again when he heard a
loud screech emanating from outside. As quick as breathing, the ears retreated
into the chestnut hair and the fluffy, black, white tipped tail disappeared
from sight as well. A wide grin split his face as what had made the sound and
what exactly it heralded registered in his brain.
He practically flew to the front door, anxiously awaiting the people on the
other side to enter. Once the newcomers cleared the door, he pounced. Luckily,
the shaggy haired brunet was used to this kind of greeting and was prepared to
catch him, or they both would’ve ended up in a heap on the floor.
“Heero!” the braided teen exclaimed happily, trying to kiss any and every
available surface he could. “You were gone for forever, not that I expected you
back this early, but yeah, I was bored.”
“Of course you were,” Prussian blue eyes rolled in fond annoyance. “Quatre, I’m
going to deal with Duo, I’ll leave the new one to you.”
The blond nodded but rolled his eyes. Those two were so predictable.
Heero carried his boyfriend effortlessly up the stairs to their bedroom. He
managed to open the door, while still managing to keep his boyfriend securely
in his grasp. Once they were clear, he kicked the door closed behind him.
                                    888888
Harry stared wide-eyed after the pair. He really hoped he wasn’t expected to
greet his new master like that. His eyes darted to the blond for a moment
before he remembered his place and looked at the floor again. If that was the
way things were done, he wouldn’t argue, he knew what happened if he did.
With that thought in mind, he followed his new owner through one of the many
doors off the hall. He barely managed to bite back a whimper as he recognized
the study. It looked like it was beginning already. He closed his eyes,
awaiting instruction.
After a few minutes, he finally heard the blond speak.
“Hi, Trowa, it’s Quatre.”
Wait, he wasn’t speaking to him. Emerald eyes flew open and he dared to look at
his new master. Quatre was seated in the desk chair, talking on the telephone.
Maybe he expected Harry to know what to do. Mr. Holden had after the first
week.
He bit his lip and had to exercise great control not to cry. This was his life
now, he needed to get used to it. He slowly made his way over to the desk, inch
by painful inch. It seemed he made it just in time, as the blond was now
hanging up the phone. He sank to his knees in front of him, mentally preparing
for what he was about to do.
“You know,” Quatre’s voice caused him to cease all movement, “I never got your
name.”
“My name is whatever you want to call me, Master,” he answered flatly, that was
one of the first things that had been drilled into him.
“Please, I want to call you what your parents called you,” the blond sighed.
“Harry,” he said quietly, unable to refuse the request.
“Well, Harry, I’m afraid I cannot keep you, for several reasons. The main one
being I do not approve of the slave trade. I cannot free you,” good thing Harry
hadn’t gotten his hopes up, “the collar around your neck, the mark of your
enslavement, cannot be removed, we’ve tried. Anyway, because I do not approve
of slavery, I do not own slaves, hoping others will follow my example. So, on
that note, I cannot sell you, that would be even more counterproductive, so
instead, I’m giving you to a very dear friend of mine who will take very good
care of you.”
The former Savior just stared at the floor. This Quatre seemed nice, and his
words were pretty, but they felt a bit too much like Dumbledore’s rhetoric.
Though, one thing he was sure of, if this teen wasn’t going to be his master,
he didn’t have to do anything for him, which was a small reprieve. Now, all he
could do was wait and see what his new master would turn out to be.
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