For 16 Galleons

Chapter One

"I want this one, Father," the blond boy said, smiling and pointing right at him. Harry was really, really scared. The past two weeks had been scary but this was even worse. Two weeks ago he had been living in his cupboard and pretty happy considering the circumstances. As long as he did what Aunt Petunia said and avoided Uncle Vernon and Dudley, life wasn't too bad. He had even had two toys he'd saved from the trash; they were little figures of knights on horses. Of course they were missing parts but Harry didn't care. He could save maidens and joust and battle dragons for hours with them just as they were. No one really bothered him in his cupboard with his broken toys and hand-me-down clothes.

Then the two men came. They had talked to his aunt and uncle for a little while, handed them some money and the next thing he knew he was being shoved into the back seat of a car with one of the men. When he tried to ask what was going on, the men told him he needed to learn some manners. After looking at their glares, Harry kept his mouth shut.

The men had then delivered him here. Here was a place the other boys called the slave pits. Harry didn't like it at all. He was put in a room with bars, just like a jail, with four other boys about his age. Since he was smaller than the others, they tried to pick on him at first. But he had given that snooty butt face, Terence, a fat lip and they pretty much left him alone. After fighting off Dudley and his friends these boys weren't very scary, even if they were bigger than him. Anyway, at least he got to eat as much as he wanted. In fact, the men who brought the food told him he should eat more since he was skinny and small.

This morning one of the men had come and got all the boys from the room. He had brought them up to this room and had them stand in a line in front of the blond boy and the man who must be his father. Now he was looking at a finger pointed at him like gun on one of those shows Uncle Vernon liked to watch.

"I want this one, Father," the boy said.

The tall blond man approached Harry and looked him over. "Hmmm, no, son, I think one of the others would be better."

"But Father," the boy began to pout. "I really, really want him."

"Draco, look at him. He's the runt of the bunch. He might be sickly and you wouldn't want to get him home and have to put him down, now would you?"

Harry began to shake. What were they talking about, get him home, put him down?

"Look, Draco. See this? His face is scarred. He has defective eyes," the man said as he poked Harry's forehead and flicked at his glasses. "There are better quality Mudbloods. Look at this one over here," he said as he turned towards one of the other boys. "He's big and strong..."

"That one speaks French, Italian and Latin, Sir," the slave trader interjected. "He's been trained to..."

"No!" Draco yelled. Suddenly Harry found himself being held tightly by a boy about a head taller than himself. "I want this one. I'll take good care of him. I promise," Draco said as he put on his best pout. "I like this one, Father. He has pretty eyes and he's smaller than me. I'll take care of him. He's scared. He needs me to take care of him."

The father sighed and turned reluctantly to the slave trader, "I want to see its papers before I make a final decision."

"Of course, Sir," the trader said as he searched through a pile of scrolls. "Ah, here they are."

The blond man unrolled the scroll and began to read. Meanwhile, Draco was excitedly chatting at Harry. "You're going to be my best friend. Now I won't have to play all by myself. My governess doesn't know how to play and there aren't any other children nearby. I'm not allowed to floo by myself yet and Mother is busy with charities and functions while Father is at work at the Ministry," the boy said with an air of importance. "So Father said I could come buy a friend today. Yesterday was my birthday and he promised."

"Enough, Draco. Mind your manners," the father said sharply.

Harry had no idea what "floo" was, or "Ministry, charities and functions" for that matter. What did the boy mean he was buying him? Harry had never had a best friend before. He wasn't sure he wanted to be best friends with this boy. He seemed kind of stuck up. And what did they mean, he might be sickly?

"So it only speaks English?" the father asked the trader.

"Yes, Sir. This is an undomesticated one, I'm afraid." The father turned to glare at Harry when he heard this. "They didn't find him until just two weeks ago so he hasn't been raised up like a proper slave. His family was quite eager to get rid of him. Apparently, they were not happy when his magic started showing. He's been very well behaved, though. He's quiet and obedient. There was a little trouble with one of the other boys the first day but he took care of it himself. He may be small for his age, but he's tough."

Draco's father went back to reviewing the scroll, asking the occasional question. Draco began chatting quietly to Harry again. "And since you're going to be my best friend you'll get a broom too and I'll teach you how to play Quidditch. We can go flying all the time. And you can see my dragon collection and we can pretend to be dragon tamers. Oh and we can play explorer and Merlin and be knights. It will be so great to have someone to play with."

Harry had no idea what Quidditch was or why he would want a broom but playing explorer and knights sounded like a great idea. Maybe being this boy's best friend wouldn't be so bad.

"Draco, we are going to have to hire a trainer before I can let you play with it," the man cut in. "I won't have you running around the Manor and grounds with a dangerous boy." That sounded pretty scary. Trainers were those men who used a whip and a chair on lions and tigers in those cages. Was this man going to do that to him?

"He'll be good, Father. I just know he will. He'll learn real fast and we'll have a great time," Draco enthused.

Draco's father withdrew some coins from a pouch and handed them over to the slave trader. "All right then. For sixteen galleons he had better learn quickly," he commented as he led the boys to the waiting carriage. "I could buy a new set of robes for your mother for that price."

To be continued