Spoils of War
by KC
Disclaimer: I do not own HP.
Notes: AU, HP/DM, SS/LM
Rating: R

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Champion of the Wizarding World and Destroyer of Voldemort, sat in the back of a smoky auction house and tried to keep his head down. By all rights, he should not have been here. Hooded warlocks, veiled witches and cloaked wizards filled the large room, their purses filled with as much gold as they could muster. Deals and promises were exchanged over the tables as they haggled over minor contracts, but everyone was really here for the auction.

No one knew he was here. When he'd found out what had happened to the Malfoys, Harry had made up a story about visiting his uncle's house one last time for an old family heirloom he'd forgotten. Instead he sat with one hand on his checkbook. His vast fortune dwarfed that of most other wizards, but he could not afford to relax yet.

Beside him, someone pulled out the other chair at his table and sat down. Harry glanced sideways and recognized Severus under the dark hood. Neither of them spoke. For once, they had agreed to help each other and pool their funds if absolutely necessary. Harry knew Snape was no pauper, but neither of them wanted to risk losing out simply because they'd been too arrogant to be prepared.

On the stage in front, the auction began. Spoils of war, sold off to fund various charities for orphans, widows and other victims of the war, in long line of strange artifacts, familiar heirlooms, antiques and antiquities, all went to the highest bidder. Harry was surprised at how high some of the prices went, and reasoned that many wizards with little in the way of family treasures were eager to purchase someone else's.

Hours passed. Complimentary drinks were passed out. Harry looked out the window as the sun set and the road became dark. His carriage waited outside for them, the black horses patiently standing at the ready, but they'd both brought their brooms along in case they had to abandon the carriage. Apparating was impossible on the auction house grounds, and while they did not expect trouble, too many ambushes and betrayals during the war had made them overly cautious.

Finally the stage was cleared of tables. Everyone sat straight. This was the part of the auction they'd been waiting for, and the clink of gold provided the backdrop as an unfamiliar witch was led out onto the stage. Dressed in black robes with one sleeve pinned up to reveal the dark mark, she stood unnaturally still and stared at nothing as the auctioneer began taking bids.

As the prices climbed, Harry felt his stomach turn. Severus had explained how the auction worked, but he'd also explained that while the wizarding community pretended that war spoils were treated more like house elves, the fact remained that they were little more than slaves. Beneath those robes, she wore nothing except the collar that would not come off until her master freed her, which would not be permitted legally for a year, and then perhaps would never happen at all.

Sold for five hundred galleons, she was told to step off the stage and sit by her new owner. Harry wasn't sure how she was controlled but it was as effective as an Imperio curse.

The next slave was brought out and Harry looked away. She was younger than Ginny. Still, the dark mark on her arm was proudly presented and the bidding continued, albeit at a slower rate. She only went for three hundred galleons and stepped down to sit by an older woman that Harry hoped was a family member.

And then Lucius Malfoy was brought out. The spells binding him were even more apparent when Harry compared his emotionless face with his memories, when, even under his mask, Lucius's emotions were always obvious. He still didn't like the man, but he'd been invaluable to them during the war. He'd never explained exactly why he'd changed allegiances, but he had, and been betrayed by the forces he'd helped to succeed.

As the bidding slowed down, Severus raised his hand at nine hundred galleons. A few other people bid, but it soon became a battle between him and someone Harry didn't recognize. He supposed it was impossible to know how many people Lucius had cursed or hexed over the years. No doubt the other person was out for revenge, but ultimately Severus did not need his help, winning Lucius for two thousand, five hundred galleons.

Lucius moved silently through the crowd and sat down next to Severus, who betrayed no emotion at his win. He had another fight to win.

A murmur went through the crowd as Draco was paraded onto the stage. He had no dark mark to show off, but he was a Malfoy, and that was good enough for the Ministry. Harry scowled as the bidding began, the prices quickly skyrocketing. Draco had helped him during the last fight, disarmed devious traps throughout Voldemort's stronghold, fought numerous death eaters, and battled his own fear to stand by him. This was no way to repay a comrade in arms and not for the first time he cursed the Ministry's petty spite.

Severus raised his hand to bid two thousand galleons. The bidding slowed down but climbed to three thousand before he bid again. As he went back and forth with another, he realized that whoever was on the other side of the room was the same person who'd bid on Lucius. Having lost the father, the man was far more tenacious for the son.

Four thousand. Four thousand five hundred. Five thousand. Five thousand three hundred. Five thousand seven hundred. Six thousand. Severus sighed and shook his head, meaning that Harry would have to try. It meant Lucius and Draco would have to stay in different homes, but it was far better than letting anyone else win. With any luck, they would not have to pool their money, which would only create more headaches for them. Six thousand. Six thousand three hundred. Harry grew impatient with the auctioneer's small increases and indicated with his hands ten thousand. Gasps went through the audience.

His opponent bid ten thousand three hundred. Harry raised to fifteen thousand. For a moment he thought the other man might bid again, but the auctioneer's voice rang clear as he declared the sale. Harry watched as Draco came through the room, sitting down next to him with damp eyes. Harry forced himself not to react. As strong as the curse binding him was, Draco was obviously aware of everything and incapable of saving himself.

Several more wizards and witches were sold before the auction ended. Harry and Severus both wrote out their promissory notes to the house and led their possessions out into the cold night air and into the waiting carriage. Only when they were on the road and the glow of the house's windows faded into the forest did they relax. Motioning for Harry to do the same, Severus raised his wand and tapped it once on Lucius' collar. The collar did not come off but the jinx holding him did. With a shuddering breath, he leaned against the carriage window, relishing the air going by.

Beside him, finally freed of his binding, Draco left his seat to sit on Harry's lap, throwing his arms around him while he tried to muffle his sobs in Harry's robes. Neither of them spoke. Lucius glanced at them and looked away.

"Potter..." he said softly. "You have my thanks."

Harry nodded once. He didn't know why Lucius and Severus didn't show any emotion, didn't even look at each other, but then he'd never understood their relationship. For them, perhaps being near each other was enough.

Between the muggle roads lay wizarding shortcuts, and they left the main road to travel through the forest, passing like a whisper for miles. No one spoke until they reached Severus' home, a dilapidated and run-down shack on the outside that, Harry knew, disguised a comfortable and expansive home inside. As the carriage stopped, Lucius glanced briefly at his son but said nothing.

"You remember the terms of the contract?" Severus said softly to Harry. "He must be yours for a year."

"I remember," Harry said, adjusting his hold on Draco. The young wizard had finally calmed down, resting quietly in his arms. "I'll owl you soon."

Severus gave a clipped nod and opened the carriage, stepping out first so he could help Lucius step down. Under the moonlight, Harry could see how the death eater had lost weight and strength during his brief time under the Ministry's thumb. No doubt Draco had suffered as well, perhaps even more.

The door closed and the carriage set off again. By the time it reached his home, Malfoy Manor newly stripped of all magic, Draco was fast asleep. As it pulled up to the front door, he carried Draco out and quickly walked inside with a brief thank you to the house elf holding the door.

Much of the furniture had been taken and sold at earlier auctions. The family portraits, burned. Any dark artifacts they'd managed to hold onto, destroyed. Every last defensive charm and trap had been dispelled. For now the manor was nearly empty, save for a few house elves and some purely utilitarian furniture in the dining room and bedroom, but he'd rather live in an empty house than furnish it and not have Draco inside.

Leaving the candles dark, he lay him down on the double bed and gently undid the robes, unsurprised to see that he wore nothing underneath except the thin black collar around his neck. Curious, Harry gently traced it with his fingers. As soft as velvet, it wrapped around Draco's throat with no clasp or seam. The charm holding it in place made it stronger than steel and, depending on the commands given, allowed its wearer nearly complete autonomy or reduced him to his original mindless state.

Draco woke up as Harry undressed, and he wordlessly watched him drop his clothes on the floor, to be picked up by an elf during the night. He waited for him to slide under the covers, and once Harry was comfortable, crept close to lay his head on his shoulder. Harry's arm curled around him and he looked out the window at the clouds passing over the stars, listening to the crickets in the garden.

"I knew you would come," he whispered. "I believed you would bring me home."

Harry didn't answer except to hold him tighter, and lightly stroke his hair until he fell asleep again.

TBC...