Buy A Slytherin!

Chapter 1: Giving 'Infamous' A Whole New Meaning

The only reason why Harry Potter, Hero of the Wizarding world, was down there was because as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor (who hasn't been kicked out, replaced, died, or cursed in a single year), he needed supplies. And in the profession that he was in now, where else could he find Flesh-Eating Slug Repellant in none other than Knockturn Alley? Before embarking on his trip, the man had mentally thanked his memory for remembering that in his second year, Hagrid had casually said in conversation that he had bought the repellant in the ghastly alley. However, just because the supplies were necessary, didn't mean that the raven-haired man was ecstatic to be taking a day trip to the area.

He had been there on numerous occasions, including his times as an Auror. After his 'eighth' year in Hogwarts, graduating with his friends who had taken the year as well, Harry had moved on seamlessly towards the profession of being an Auror, as what most of the world expected of him, and what he actually wanted for himself as well. Ron applied along with him, and for the first three years after his graduation, Harry was an esteemed Auror who had risen the ranks in short time, being famous not only for the scar on his forehead, but for his skill as an Auror. Of course, fame wasn't the top priority on the man's list. In fact, if he had a chance, he would have signed all his fame away in order to live a simple life that didn't include frantic handshakes and autographs wherever he went. But whenever he could – which included press conferences, interviews, and media coverage – Harry had taken the initiative to stress extremely well the fact that he hated the amount of fame that was thrown at him, and cordially begged the Wizarding world to refrain from treating him as if he were a hero. Which, he was. But still, Harry could try. Luckily, over the years, the fame had eventually died down, and while he still got smiles and nods and a few bows out of respect, he was glad to see that there were no more people throwing themselves at him in the middle of a shop or street just to take a picture and express their undying love for him. Really now, people should have more dignity.

However, despite all that, life as an Auror was great. But things had come and gone, and Harry had realized that as much as he loved saving the lives of people, he hated seeing friends and coworkers die before him, as well as attaining a new gash or broken bone every few days, resulting in a forced leave from work. Harry wanted a steady job, one where there was no pressure in thinking up the right spell in a few seconds, one that did require him to clutch at Ron's body when he was immobilized, snarling curses with his own broken wrist, hand, whatever. He wanted a job that he didn't need to come home every day, wave a hand to Kreacher tiredly signaling that dinner wasn't going to happen, and collapse on the couch in an exhausted heap. Harry wanted to relax.

Thus, he landed the job at Hogwarts, after only a few months deciding time. Ron was surprised, but supported him fully, stating that none other can teach DADA better than Harry could. Hermione was just as supportive as her husband, Ron, and smiled when he went on about helping kids learn how to protect themselves. When he brought it up to McGonagall, surprising her with his visit, her wizened eyes merely sparkled and she gave him her signature thin smile, hiding the actual joy in his application. In a mere few days, he was introduced to the rest of the staff – most that he knew already, and who were happy to have him on the team – and his new classroom and private rooms. It was up to Harry whether or not he chose to stay at the school, or return to Grimmauld place. The man simply decided that he'd just live at both, and depending on his mood that night would depict which house he'd live in.

The new year had started off wonderfully, with many of the students sitting at their desks in awe at their new professor, who was the ever-famed Harry Potter. Even the Slytherins had a grudging respect towards him, and there was more than one time that Harry had smugly (and discreetly) shown off his magic power by casting strong spells in front of the class. All in all, Harry loved his job.

And the best thing about it all was the fact that he had broken the 'curse' that circulated his job. With Voldemort gone and the amount of trouble in the Wizarding world decreasing a large amount, there was nothing that Harry couldn't face. He meant that in the most not-arrogant way possible. Seriously. Thus, his job had gone along smoothly, resulting in many years of Harry as a DADA professor. Now, with years of experience under his belt, the professor had to do many duties, such as restocking on supplies when they ran out.

Harry slid past a tight passageway, the entrance to the alley, and he kept his gaze straight forward to ignore the shady witches and wizards that were hunched over against the walls, reaching out absently at him in hopes to grab his attention. Despite being a professor to children, Harry had a very small tolerance to people that could be found in places like Knockturn Alley. He was still an Auror at heart, and when pushed to the limit, he would shamelessly lash out in the name of justice. When an old crone of a witch mumbled something incoherent in his direction and reached out to snag a bony finger on his robe edge, Harry didn't stop walking, but merely gripped his wand under his sleeve tightly, mentally uttered a nonverbal spell, and he heard the shriek of pain from the woman as her finger bent sideways painfully to the point where she let go and let out a hiss at his back. He wasn't sure who here recognized him or not, but it didn't matter much to him, as he avoided everyone's gaze anyways. Half of him was grateful he was a man of confidence, allowing him to stride through the alley and discard any care of the people's glances, yet half of him was also cursing his luck that the specific shop he needed was a few streets deeper into the god forsaken alley. He always hated this time of year. Maybe he should petition to have the repellants sold in packs of 6 or something, much like Muggle appliances.

Smoke billowed in strange places, and the scent of ash was heavy in the air, threatening to layer itself deeply in one's lungs. Harry promptly raised one arm to cover his nose with his sleeve as he sped up his walking pace, weaving in and out of carts and street shops and people expertly. He heard a loud commotion from one corner of the alley, a large group of people all milling about and seeming excited about some sort of caravan that had arrived. Harry had to bite back a grimace, not wanting to imagine what sort of strange…unnatural…illegal items were being brought in by that caravan. However, even if he was an Auror or not, it was an unsaid government/society rule that one should just leave things be, or face the wrath of insane witches and wizards. What happens in Knockturn Alley stays in Knockturn Alley, and the Ministry would turn a blind eye. Harry was pretty sure that the Muggle society had their own version of the saying. Nevertheless, it was true.

The Creature Crest was a popular shop to both Knockturn Alley folk as well as Diagon Alley people. It was just unfortunately placed in the worst place of the two. Stocked with supplies needed for almost every magical creature in existence, the store itself was large and looming, taking up nearly half of the block that it was on. Harry stepped inside quickly, relaxing only slightly at the familiar store. There were people milling about everywhere, but it wasn't crowded. As Harry walked the store, he looked around and was mentally reminded that no matter how many times he came here, (which was thankfully a small amount of visits) he would never not be amazed by how much they had. Ranging from massive Hippogriff play toys, to rare Unicorn saddles, and to personalized Boggart – containers, Harry couldn't help but admit that the Creature Crest had literally everything.

Meandering towards the front register, a smile broke out on his face as he took in sight and old friend, Chester Leaker. Current owner of the Creature Crest, Chester was someone who had gone to school with Harry, though the other man was three years younger than him. He had excelled greatly in the subject of Magical Creatures and it was no surprise that he would end up taking over some sort of company that dealt with the same things. Though Harry didn't personally know the man in school, they had met on Harry's first visit to the shop, where Chester eagerly explained their non-existent school relationship, and Harry merely laughed, the two being instant friends.

"Harry Potter!" Cried the smaller man, who was a mere 5 foot 2 inches, never having grown any taller since his 6th year. Dark brown curls covered his head and his face was thin and slightly gaunt, but it didn't deter from the liveliness that shone in his face. A button nose perfected the look, making Chester look a lot younger than the 26 year old man he was supposed to be. Much like Flitwick, he hopped onto the stool behind the register to grin brightly at the tall, bespectacled man, sticking out his hand in greeting. "It's fantastic to see you again, my friend!" said the man and Harry eagerly grabbed the hand, shaking it jovially.

"The same to you, Chester." Harry said with a smile, pulling his hand back and sliding it into his pocket to reach for his wallet. "I'm here for the repellant." He said, and Chester nodded vigorously, hopping down from the stool as he ran to the back.

"Yes, yes! I have that, right here." Came the voice, slightly muffled by the curtains hiding the back rooms. When he remerged, he was carrying a giant bottle of the substance, made lighter by a spell. He placed it on the counter and stepped back onto the stool as he stood before the register, waiting for Harry to come forth with the money. "It really is a joy to see you, a bright face amongst…well, you know." Said the younger man thoughtfully and Harry smiled faintly at that, knowing what he meant.

Handing Chester the sum of coins, he glanced around and nodded as he waited for the man to produce his change. "Yes, I figured…But it's always nice to see a friendly face here. At least there's one." Harry said with a grin, and Chester merely returned it with a grin and a nod of his own.

"Mm, yeah. How are classes?" the other man asked, handing the coins back and waving his wand, letting some newspaper wrapping float over to start wrapping itself around the repellant.

Harry tilted his head side to side, rubbing the side of his neck. "Well, last year was fantastic, and the N.E.W.T.S. results from all my classes were astounding." He said with a grin. "I don't know if they all just really like the class, or if they want to show me up." He said with a slight chuckle, the joke springing lightly from his lips.

A bright laugh came from Chester and he shook his head in amusement. "Or maybe they just want to prove to you that they can all be the next Heroes and Heroines of the Wizarding world." He said, completely unknowing that he had just stated Harry's words but in a different way.

Said Hero merely smiled and nodded, shrugging. "That too." He said, and reached over to heft the large bottle in his arms, the excess wrapper returning back to its container. "Well, this new year is going to be just the same, if not better." He said brightly, as he gave a nod to Chester. "It's been great to see you again, Ches." Harry said sincerely.

"Even more to you, Harry. Tell anyone who cares that I said hello." The man replied with a grin, and Harry merely laughed, nodding as he walked towards the door.

"I will, don't worry!"

Harry stepped outside of the shop gingerly, trying to avoid a crazed-looking woman who was taking her sweet little time to walk across the doorway. He inched past her before stepping out onto the street, wrinkling his nose at the immediate stench of the alley. Turning to face the way he came from, he heard the shouts of people, making him pause and turn his head. It was the same caravan from before, but judging by the shouts and yells, they weren't merely selling plain items. Harry couldn't identify any words over the whole commotion but he could tell that some people were shouting insults, whereas others looked eager. Money bags were in the air, waving around. Was it an auction? The professor had no idea. Turning his whole body, he narrowed his eyes slightly as he tried to take in more of the site. With slight surprise, he noticed that all those that milled around were mainly younger folk, not like the old witches and haggard wizards. They reminded Harry of Bellatrix, with her matted hair and insane eyes, her clothes ragged and ripped. The man shuddered at the memory, but he continued to watch anyways. Through the throng of people, he glimpsed another man – thick bodied and tall, his wand at his throat to make his voice sound a bit louder than the yelling people. He was clutching chains in his other hands, yanking them around and making the crowd sneer and laugh. A flicker of anger burned inside of him. What poor creatures was this guy tormenting with now?

With half a mind to stop him, and half a mind to see what was actually going on, Harry made his legs move towards the crowd of people, the repellent bottle moved to be clutched under one arm as he shifted his free hand inside his pockets, taking out his wand for safety precaution. Reaching the edge of the crowd, he immediately started pushing his way through, trying to reach the general front, in order to see what the whole hullaballoo was about. It was only when he got to the inner circle of people did he stop, frozen in place.

Attached to the chains that the man was holding were not simply poor animals. Instead, they were humans. Witches and Wizards to be exact. On their feet were five of them, hands shackled and bound together, with a heavy looking chain connecting them all together. Behind them was the caravan, whose curtains were open to reveal cages with haggard looking witches and wizards inside. They were dressed in clothes unfit for even the poor, reminding Harry of something that a house elf would wear. Dirty, grimy, sunken faces peered out from behind the cages, looking out over the crowd as if their salvation was somewhere out there. They were silent, except for the sound of a sobbing little girl somewhere in the back of the cages, no one around her bothering to silent her. But the multitude of people was enough to overpower her cries as everyone was focused on whoever the man would show off next.

Harry had never felt more anger and rage than he ever had in his life. He was sure that the amount of fury inside his equaled the amount he felt when facing Voldemort inside the Castle during the war. He had just stumbled upon human trafficking, and never before had he found the urge to just pull out his wand and slash every person's throat in sight.

But of course, he couldn't do that. And he couldn't intervene right at this very moment, or else he'd merely be swarmed, and the Ministry would call him in eventually, chastising him for his 'reckless behavior' on attacking a group of people without ministry backup. Did the Ministry even know this was going on? When the Ministry turned a blind eye to Knockturn Alley, were they also turning a blind eye to this?

Harry silently trembled in rage at the thought, his attention being dragged back to the man when he shoved a thin looking woman at some sleazy looking man, who tossed a bag of coins at the seller. Harry wanted to cry out, Avada Kedavra the man and take the woman back to find a proper home, but he couldn't. He couldn't unless he wanted to face issues that he really didn't need to deal with right now. Of course, he would be bringing this up to the Ministry ASAP, but being a single man surrounded by a group of crazy magical people, he figured he'd be outnumbered if he was to attempt any sort of intervention.

"Thank you, Mister Jartson, for your purchase." Came the smooth and disgustingly silky voice of the seller. He faced the crowd once more as he grinned, Harry noticing that he had lost two teeth and had one that was jet black. "Another reminder, for those lovelies who have just begun to join the festivities," he hissed, as he spread one arm out to gesture at his large caravan and its prisoners. "Today's theme is special, with special people, along with their special prices." Harry felt the urge to vomit. There were themes? But before he could ponder on what it meant, the man went on. "And today…today is a one in a life time theme." Removing the wand from his neck, he waved it at the air and suddenly a banner unrolled, with a pathetic little poof of silver and green confetti. Harry's eyes darted up to read the banner and his eyes widened as he felt his chest tighten at the inhumaneness of the entire situation. "Yes!" the man went on, his wand returning to his neck. "Today is 'Buy a Slytherin day!' Where we have a large number of people from the ever-popular house, Slytherin!" the crowd roared and Harry staggered to the side when someone pushed into him. But he merely stayed silent and stared, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his wand tightly.

The man went on to describe the Slytherin house and its occupants, but Harry's mind was already churning. Had Slytherin been a race, this would have been racist on levels unknown to mankind. But if they were selling Slytherins, did they mean that they sold people from the other three houses as well? In fact, where on earth did they even manage to find these people?

Finally, the seller was onto dragging his next prisoner forward, and Harry's eyes bent in concern as he watched the man stagger to the middle of the circle. Much like the woman before him, he was bent over, his hair hanging dirtily in front of his face, hiding it from view. What seemed to be blonde hair was now covered with grime, making it look as if he dunked his head in the sewer and scrubbed – hard. He was shirtless, showing what would have been toned back if it weren't for the slash marks that crisscrossed his back. They were pulsing red, as if newly made, and some where already light purple – welts that had accumulated from months of torture. His arms met the same fate, and it looked as if his breathing was labored. He wore tattered trousers. If stared at hard enough, they could've been recognized as suit trousers, tattered at the feet and ripped in places, no longer usable for anything but a mere cover up. The man wore no shoes, and his feet looked just as bruised and bloody as his back. Harry wanted to gasp at the man's fate. Glancing quickly at the caravan and back, he realized that no other person – nor man nor female – had the amount of wounds that this one had. What had this one done to deserve it all?

"Our star for today is very nice." Stated the seller, and Harry's eyes flicked at him, anxious to know who this was and what happened to him. The man shook the chains and the bent over prisoner coughed weakly. "He might seem weak at the moment, battered up and hurt. But I assure you, he can take a lot more than what's shown. He's traveled with us for months now, and we figured it might be time to bring him home. He's feisty, I'll tell you now, but I'm sure with some proper discipline, you can get him under a belt." came the description, and Harry swallowed thickly. "In fact, I'm sure many of you will recognize our lovely star for the day." came the silky voice. "And granted you can procure the right price, this lovely devil can be yours." The man reached over and grabbed the back of the dirty blonde man's hair, twisting his fingers into his head to hold on tightly. "Presenting the ever infamous, hot-blooded man…" He yanked the head up, long hair falling away from his face to show the crowd his identity. With one black eye and a bruised lip, his face was just as dirty as the rest of the body. But it wasn't the appearance of the prisoner that made the Slug repellant fall from Harry's hand with a crash onto the ground, spilling everywhere and making people jump away from him as he froze. It was who it was.

Standing before him with nearly-closed eyes concealing pain, was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Time seemed to stand still for Harry Potter, as he gazed at his old school rival in the hands of the seller. He didn't hear the people shouting around him, and he barely even noticed as he was pushed side to side as the throng of people tried to get a better look at the famous Malfoy Heir. Speaking of which, no one had seen for the past 7 years. Other than knowing that he had moved to France to begin his own companies there, the people of London had eventually forgotten about the Malfoy family after Lucius died in Azkaban and Narcissa turned into a hermit, crudely named. Draco Malfoy had become an idea, a mere concept, and when spoken of, people knew he existed. Other than that, nothing. Yet, here he was now, broken up and bruised, nearly at his knees in front of the repulsive folk of Knockturn Alley who Harry knew would gladly give up their own children in order to own someone like Draco Malfoy.

The question that seemed to ring around Harry's mind was merely 'How?' How did Malfoy find himself in this situation? How did he end up this beaten up, when he was rumored to be strong? In all honestly, Harry had seen him as his equal rival in school. As much as the man hated to admit it, Malfoy was strong. Very strong. But there Malfoy was, shackled, with a price over his head. For the first time in his life, Harry felt an absurd amount of pity rushing forth out of him towards his enemy.

'What are you doing…?' came the sudden voice ringing clearly in his head. But what surprised him was that he wasn't asking himself what he was doing, the question was meant for Malfoy. As Harry stared down at him, the thoughts just came flowing. 'Malfoy, what are you doing? Why aren't you getting up? Where's your wand, where's your strength? Where's the idiot that I knew in school who'd kill someone just because they did something to mildly piss you off?' Harry's hands clenched at his sides, his wand digging into his palm. But no matter how much he thought it, Malfoy did not move. He merely stayed still, his body being dragged about by the seller as he was shown off to every person. His eyes had slipped closed, giving him the appearance of being unconscious, but the man had stayed standing up, letting the crowd know he was awake. With a sudden jolt of realization, Harry realized that the reason why Malfoy looked so battered up was because he had tried. Malfoy tried to get away, he tried to fight. He tried to work his way back to freedom, but for some reason, he couldn't. And his punishment was a body so injured, that Harry felt like he could feel the pain as well.

His decision came like a bullet, colliding with his head with the force of a bludger. So what if Malfoy was his enemy as a child? They were 29. Surely there has been a change in his demeanor. Plus, regardless if Malfoy was his rival or not, Harry couldn't believe that someone of his status and willpower would find himself in the hands of rats than ran human trafficking. Clearing his head and forcing a wave of calmness over him, he retuned himself with the talk around him, schooling his features.

"-and that will be factored into his final price, which is 10,000 galleons." Said the seller with a face of pure business. Harry heard the groan of the crowd around him. The woman before Malfoy was a mere 4,000 galleons. Malfoy being Malfoy…well, of course he would be expensive. People shifted around him, peering at their purses and wallets to see if they could suddenly just appear with 10,000 gold coins. There was murmuring as they muttered darkly about the price. However, Harry strode forward as he pulled out a large bag of coins from his wallet. "I'll buy." He stated clearly, and a gasp ran around the crowd as people surged forward a bit to try and see who this man was that was daring to buy such an expensive item. Even the seller looked surprised at the sight of the pouch, but quickly turned his expression into one of eagerness as he moved forward to take the bag, waving his wand to do a money count to ensure it was the right amount. A ding sounded when the money was completely checked and the seller grabbed the back with a satisfied nod, tucking it away in his coat pocket as he turned to grin at Harry. When his gaze landed on his face, a glimmer of surprise shown in his eyes when he recognized him as the Boy Who Lived, but for the sake of business, he merely gave him his gapless disgusting smile as he bent down to unhook Malfoy's shackles from the chain line. Luckily, no one around him recognized him other than the seller, who had chuckled as he hoisted Malfoy up into proper standing position. The blonde's eyes were barely open, staring at Harry, but the raven-haired man saw no recognition in those dull gray eyes.

Suddenly, he was shoved at Harry, whose arms went out to grab the man, pulling him tight against him as he felt Malfoy suddenly sag, most likely recognizing that he wasn't being forced to stand, and that someone was holding him up for him. Harry merely glared at the seller as he shifted Malfoy's weight against him, trying to find a comfortable way to hold him. The seller grinned at him and gave him a tiny mocking bow. "Thank you for your purchase, Mister Potter." He said lowly, raising his head to stare him in the eyes. Harry did nothing but glare for the next couple of seconds, finally finding a position he was okay with, with Malfoy half-thrown over his shoulder.

He didn't even bother with a response, and without a word, he gripped Malfoy tight and shut his eyes, apparating instantly out of the alley.

Author's Notes:

Hello! I'm sorry this is real short. And unbeta-ed D: I was debating whether it should be a chapter or a prologue. But the idea came to me and i thought 'i don't care how long it is, i just want this idea written out.' and thus, this idea was born.

But, i do want to ask, should i go on with this story? I have half a mind to be a cruel person and literally just stop it right here, and force you readers to come up with story plots of your own, with this chapter merely being a layout for your imagination. :)

However, if you think i really should keep going, please tell me! I've got ideas formulating in my brain. I just need motivation, you know?

Thanks for reading!

Glenn_agape