A/N: Hello, hello, and welcome to my extremely ambitious foray into the wizarding world. Please bear with me for some important housekeeping matters before we delve into the actual story.

Firstly, allow me to introduce myself: I am a lifelong Harry Potter enthusiast with many big ideas and too little time to write them all out. I have been sitting on this particular idea for literal years, because - despite having an intricate plot for all seven years of Hogwarts and beyond carefully planned and outlined in great detail - I have sadly been rather reticent about actually writing the narrative. Thus far, I have completed the first Hogwarts year, but I cannot promise when I will write, let alone publish, the other years - because life as a working adult is full and time-consuming. However, rather than let this wonderful story rot on my hard drive, I would prefer to share what I have, and perhaps gain inspiration and motivation from readers who enjoy it and wish to see me continue.

Argentum et Aurum is meant to be the first of a massive AU trilogy that will explore the adventures and relationships of not just the Golden Trio and their peers, but also the generation before them, via flashbacks. It is both the Harry Potter world you know and the one you don't. It follows and is very much integrated in the rules and the main storyline J.K. Rowling set out, but many plot beats diverge from canon because I have changed various premises. The biggest change - and the original idea behind this AU - is, of course, explained in this first chapter - but do not be surprised if other elements differ as well. I have taken great pains to plot this as tightly as possible (I'm a stickler for details) and I assure you, even if something does not immediately make sense, you will come to understand it in time and further along the narrative.

Last but not least, I thank you for joining me on this journey and sincerely hope you enjoy this universe I have built on Rowling's foundation.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. I am building my storyworld from the blocks that already exist, and I derive nothing but pure enjoyment from doing so.

Chapter One: Meetings in Secret

"You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." The haughty, blond pureblood offered his hand.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, merely glanced coldly at it. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

It was an obvious snub, and Draco Malfoy, scion of the Ancient House of Malfoy, dropped his hand with a scowl. However, he didn't have time to make a retort, because Professor McGonagall tapped his back with her scroll, indicating that it was time to enter the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. Malfoy contented himself with one last glare at the brunet boy before returning to his place beside Crabbe and Goyle.

As they trailed after McGonagall, Ron Weasley fell into step beside Harry. "Nicely done," he praised. "Someone needs to put that git in his place. Draco Malfoy, it seems." He sniffed in clear contempt, and Harry knew he would be hearing a lot more about this apparent feud between the Malfoys and the Weasleys.

This was going to be an interesting year.

Late that night, after everyone in his dorm had fallen asleep, Harry quietly slipped out of Gryffindor Tower and cautiously made his way down to the antechamber before the Great Hall, where he and Draco had had their subtle showdown.

"You took your time."

"I got lost," Harry admitted sheepishly. "And I had to avoid Peeves."

His companion rolled his eyes. "That poltergeist is easy enough to get around."

"If he catches us together, he could easily make things difficult for us," Harry pointed out.

"True," the other boy conceded. "All right, then — we avoid Peeves at all costs…at least when we're being friendly."

"Agreed," said Harry. Then he smiled. "So, how are you finding Hogwarts, Draco?"

Lucius Malfoy sat in his private study, looking over the latest paper submitted by his son. While the seven-year-old Draco had a small army of tutors teaching him typical subjects like mathematics and language, the history of the Malfoy Family was overseen by Lucius himself. They were a proud and ancient pureblood line, and as the next Malfoy Heir, it was essential that Draco was given a full and detailed education of their background and influence.

The fireplace flared, and without waiting for an invitation or even an acknowledgment from the lord of the manor, Severus Snape came through via Floo. The Potions Master was one of the extremely few people who were allowed to come and go as they pleased from the Malfoy Manor, but even then it was common courtesy to at least ask if one could come through. However, any thoughts Lucius had of reprimanding his old friend fled at Snape's news.

"I found the boy."

Lucius sat up straighter, his son's homework momentarily forgotten. "Where?"

Snape's face twisted into a sneer. "Dumbledore put him with a Muggle family."

Lucius gasped. "Muggles? Dumbledore put the future saviour of the entire wizarding world with Muggles?"

Snape's lips twitched in irritation. "Not just any Muggles. He's with Lily's sister."

"Petunia?!" Lucius sounded horrified. "I've never been Dumbledore's biggest proponent, but I thought even he would have more sense than to put the Boy Who Lived in the care of that cow."

"Indeed," said Snape dryly. "And it appears that he's never once checked on the boy."

"What makes you think so?"

Snape's eyes darkened. "Because if the Headmaster had seen the conditions Lily's child lives in, he would have removed him from that despicable family long ago."

Lucius paused at the venom in the other man's tone. "What conditions?" he asked warily.

"My House mates have accepted me with all the respect due to a Malfoy," Draco said smugly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course they have."

"And you?"

"Oh, peachy," grumbled Harry. "Everyone wants to see my scar, or hear how I defeated You-Know-Who, or get my autograph, or something." He grimaced. "I swear, it was a relief to get to bed."

Draco sighed. "Clearly, no matter how much we trained you, you have no idea how to handle your fame."

"I don't want the fame, Draco. You're welcome to it if you like."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Harry, I'm the heir to an ancient and powerful pureblood family. What would I need with your fame?"

"Aw, shut up," Harry groused.

Draco decided it was time to change the subject. "I notice you seem to have made friends with the latest Weasley," he said pointedly.

Harry gave him a stern look. "He's a nice person, Draco."

"He's a Weasley."

"And you're a Malfoy."

"He eats with the table manners of a troll and appears to have only marginally more intelligence than one."

"How on earth did you see how he eats from the Slytherin table?"

"I was looking for you amongst all those Gryffindors. He was right next to you — it was impossible not to see." Draco gave Harry a look. "Honestly, Harry — he has a pet rat. And it doesn't look like that mangy rodent got its shots, either. It could be carrying a deadly disease for all we know."

Harry snorted. "Thank you for your concern, Draco, but I can pick my friends myself. And speaking of which…" He shot a sideways glance at the blond boy. "That was some excellent acting before the Sorting."

Draco smirked. "Who said I was acting?"

Harry frowned. "You'd better have been. The Weasleys are nice people — they helped me find the correct platform at King's Cross when they thought I was a lost new student. Just because they're not as rich as you doesn't make them the 'wrong sort'."

"Come off it, Harry — I doubt Weasley has any better an opinion of me than I do of him."

"Well, no," admitted Harry, "but that's because he's seeing the egotistical jerk you're pretending to be. But Ron's not actively making himself unlikeable."

"Harry, the Malfoys and the Weasleys have been rivals for generations. I doubt I'd like your new friend even if we weren't putting on a show for him. I imagine he'd feel the same way."

Harry glared at him. "Stupid pureblood politics," he muttered.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist — I don't really think he's scum," scoffed Draco. "Despite their…eccentric beliefs, the Weasleys are still an Ancient Family. They're as pureblooded as they come. Nobody said we all like each other."

"Fair enough, but you won't mind if I'm friends with Ron, I hope?"

Draco made a face. "It wouldn't make a difference if I did, would it?"

Harry smirked at him. "Nope."

"Then fine." The Malfoy heir heaved a big sigh of resignation. "By all means, make friends with the Weasel. It's a good way to mislead everyone, anyway — if you're friends with a Weasley it'll be even more believable that you despise me."

"Let me see if I understand this." Lucius' voice was deceptively calm; his eyes, however, held a dangerous glint. "Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the boy who will supposedly vanquish the Dark Lord once and for all…is being abused by his Muggle relatives?!"

Snape nodded curtly. "I believe even your house elves are treated better."

"This is outrageous!" Lucius fumed. He had many faults, but one thing he wouldn't stand for — especially since his son had been born — was the mistreatment of a child. Oh, he remembered, guiltily, how he had participated in certain activities to this very effect while in service to the Dark Lord — but now that he had chosen to become his own man again, his inherent fury against those who abused young ones in their care had resurfaced. "Severus, this must be brought to Dumbledore's attention. I don't care for the man, but if he was idiotic enough to place Potter with such barbaric morons, then he should at least have the decency to take him away from them."

"And how do you propose I bring it up?" Snape inquired acerbically. "I can hardly tell him I've been spying on his correspondence in an attempt to discover where he hid the brat. And even if I did, I have to wonder if it would make a difference."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Lucius. "Surely Dumbledore wouldn't leave him with those idiots if he knew what they were doing to him? The Headmaster is far too compassionate."

"He's also a manipulative old coot," Snape reminded him. "I don't deny that he believes he's doing what's best for the boy by placing him with Lily's family — I imagine there might indeed be a certain blood protection due to Lily's…" He took a deep breath. "…sacrifice." His eyes showed rare pain at the thought of the woman's death. "Dumbledore might well think that the protection offered by sheltering Potter with a member of Lily's family is worth any hardship suffered by the boy in the process." His lips thinned.

"Hardship?" Lucius echoed disbelievingly. "What good is Potter going to be to us if he's malnourished and overworked? All it would take is one good sneeze from the Dark Lord when he returns, and we are all doomed."

"Which is precisely why I believe that, this once, we must go behind Dumbledore's back."

Lucius's eyes narrowed at the Potions Master's contemplative tone. "What did you have in mind?"

Harry sighed. "This is going to be a pain," he muttered gloomily. "Acting like deadly enemies all year, pretending we loathe each other when we're practically brothers…we're not even in the same House!"

"That was part of the plan," Draco reminded him. "Everyone would have expected you to get into Gryffindor, seeing as both your parents were in it — and it would be a lot harder to convince everyone that I would be at such loggerheads with a fellow Slytherin. Speaking of which, the Sorting Hat didn't give you any difficulty, did it?"

"Not really. I mean, it did seriously contemplate putting me in Slytherin — was all set to do it, too — but all I had to do was mutter, 'Not Slytherin' over and over again."

"Impressive," said Draco with a smirk.

"Why did we never consider you being the non-Slytherin?"

Draco snorted. "And who exactly would have believed that? Whole generations of Malfoys have been Slytherins — breaking tradition would not have been the best way to keep our connection hidden. Besides, between the two of us, I'm not the one with positively Gryffindor-ish tendencies."

"What's wrong with being brave and daring?" Harry questioned belligerently.

Draco decided not to point out that Harry was proving his point for him. "Nothing, as long as you have the brains to realise when a stealthier approach is necessary. And Harry, you have brains." He fixed the new Gryffindor with a fearsome stare. "Don't start doing stupid things just because you're now in a House full of brawny idiots. Mother will kill you, if Severus doesn't get there first. Actually, come to think of it, I'll kill you too."

"I notice you left out your father," Harry noted dryly.

"With good reason. Father doesn't see the point of expending energy on something so redundant, since Mother will do an excellent job of your murder without any help from him."

It was a simple matter for Snape to sneak into Number 4, Privet Drive and steal the seven-year-old child from the cupboard under the stairs. Dumbledore had placed incredibly powerful wards around the house for the boy's protection, but they were only meant to work against those who intended him harm; since Snape didn't (despite the fact that the Potter brat bore a disturbing resemblance to his father, he was also Lily's, and Snape had promised to protect him), he was able to Apparate with Harry from the Dursleys' without triggering any alarms. The boy woke at once, of course — the distinctive pop of Apparition was not quiet — but by then he was already in Lucius Malfoy's study. Leaving the older wizard to explain the situation to Harry, Snape returned to Privet Drive to cover his tracks.

He unceremoniously woke Vernon and Petunia Dursley with a particularly vicious Aguamenti charm. The startled couple awoke instantly, gasping and spluttering. When they saw him looming menacingly over their bed, Vernon squawked and began turning purple as he attempted to bellow at the intruder.

Petunia, however, recognised him at once, and her voice went shrill. "You!"

"Be quiet," Snape ordered, to both Dursleys' vociferous indignation. He levelled Petunia with a deadly glare. "You know I can silence you. Do not test me."

Petunia scowled ferociously at him, but she had no desire to be on the receiving end of a Silencio and she persuaded her walrus of a husband to shut up. "Well?" she snapped. "What do you want, you horrid man?"

Unperturbed by her insult, Snape said silkily, "Believe me, Petunia, I had hoped never to have the misfortune to meet you again." Before she could screech her affront, he continued, "However, certain circumstances concerning Lily's son have forced me to pay a long overdue visit."

"The boy?" Petunia repeated disbelievingly. "What about him?"

"He is a very important child, Petunia. And you have been mistreating him."

"Mistreating?" blustered Vernon. "Well, I like that! So it's a crime to make children do household chores now, is it?"

"You are treating him like a slave," Snape snapped. "And it most certainly is a crime to starve him, lock him in a broom closet, and thrash him to within an inch of his life on a regular basis. If it were up to me I would see you both severely punished for your abuse. Potter is your sister's son," he hissed at Petunia.

"I never wanted anything to do with him," Petunia spat. "He's a freak, just like she was."

"An unwelcome waste of space," Vernon agreed.

Snape regarded them with disgust. "In that case," he said coldly, "you won't mind surrendering him to someone else's care."

Harry was both confused and frightened about the situation he had unexpectedly found himself in. While the dark blue walls and ornate furniture of the spacious study room were much preferable surroundings to the stuffy and cramped cupboard where he stayed, it was an unfamiliar environment and he had no idea how he got here or what was going on. Plus, the man behind the desk was odd-looking, with long white hair (though his face looked young) and piercing grey eyes, and Harry backed away from him warily.

"Don't be afraid, Potter." The man's tone was not unkind, but Harry didn't find it very reassuring either.

"How d'you know my name?" he asked, pleased to note that his voice did not tremble. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"You're in my home, Malfoy Manor. My name is Lucius Malfoy. As for my knowing your name…" Lucius came to stand directly in front of Harry, who winced and shuffled a few more steps backwards. Lucius wisely did not advance further. "You are a very special boy, Harry Potter."

"No, I'm not," Harry said glumly. "I'm a freak and a waste of space — my aunt and uncle always say so."

"Your aunt and uncle are ignorant Muggles who have no right to treat you the way they have been."

Harry blinked. "Why'd you call them Muggles? What are Muggles?"

Lucius produced a pointed wooden stick, which he waved, and a cushy armchair appeared suddenly in front of Harry.

"How did you do that?!"

"Magic." Lucius smirked at the boy's flabbergasted expression. "I'm a wizard, Potter, and so are you."

"I'm a what!" he squeaked.

Lucius was beginning to get rather impatient. Severus had warned him the boy would have absolutely no knowledge of the wizarding world, but Lucius had expected that a young child like Potter would accept magic more easily than hardheaded adult Muggles. As it was, the boy was eyeing him with amazement and puzzlement, but also a healthy dose of distrust and wariness.

Sighing, Lucius gestured to the armchair. "Have a seat, boy, and I will explain who you are and what you're doing here."

"We're not going to be able to hang out very much this year, are we?" Harry said sadly.

Draco shook his head. "Afraid not, Harry. It's too risky."

Harry sighed. "It'll be weird, pretending to hate you."

"You'll be fine," Draco insisted. "You might be a Gryffindor, but you were taught as a Malfoy. Father would be most disappointed if you've forgotten all his lessons," he teased.

Harry shuddered. "I haven't forgotten."

"Don't look so glum, Harry — we both know that we won't really mean the horrid things we'll say to each other. And I'm sure there'll be a few opportunities to talk without everyone else around. And you'll have your Gryffindor friends." Draco looked mildly nauseated at the prospect, but his tone was sincere.

"We'll communicate by owl, as promised?"

"Discreetly," Draco emphasised. "If you forget yourself and sign your real name, I will hex you into next week."

Harry grinned. "I'd like to see you try."

"Don't tempt me, Harry. You've got plenty of Slytherin qualities, but when it comes to sneaky revenge, I am king."

The Dursleys were only too happy to sign a form that surrendered their custodial rights over Harry Potter to the Malfoy Family. Snape did not elaborate who the Malfoys were, save that they were a family willing to take Harry in, and neither Vernon nor Petunia was inclined to inquire further. Here was their glorious opportunity to unburden themselves of the troublesome brat Dumbledore had dumped on them, and they took it gladly. Snape watched with disgust as they eagerly signed the parchment, not even caring enough about their own flesh and blood to ask why Snape and the Malfoys had taken it upon themselves to raise Harry.

"Good riddance," Vernon muttered as he finished looping his overly curly signature. Snape snatched the parchment away and glared coldly at them.

"I've half a mind to hex you both for how abominably you've treated Potter all these years," he sneered, causing them both to cringe away in apprehension, "but I will withhold my punishment in exchange for one promise."

"Name it," said Vernon.

"If the Headmaster should write you or communicate with you in any way, you are to continue to allow him to believe that Potter is still under your roof."

Petunia sniffed. "We haven't heard from that batty old man since he dropped that brat on our doorstep. I don't suppose he'd care much if he isn't here."

"Nevertheless, if he does happen to inquire about the boy, you are to tell him that Potter is still living with you. Understood?"

The Dursleys agreed, and Snape took his leave. Before he left Privet Drive, he cast a complex address charm around their house so that any magical correspondence for Harry (namely, his inevitable Hogwarts letter in about four years' time) would reflect the Privet Drive address despite his no longer living there, and the mail would, of course, automatically be redirected to Malfoy Manor. Neither Lucius nor Snape wished to reveal that they had spirited the Boy Who Lived away from Dumbledore's chosen safe house for a long time.

"I'm going to live here?" Harry sounded sceptically amazed at what Lucius had offered — no, told him (he apparently didn't get a say in the matter). "Why?"

Lucius resisted the urge to make a sarcastic comment. Merlin, hadn't the boy been listening at all? "Because, Potter," he said, keeping his face and his voice pleasant, "you are supposed to do something very important in the wizarding world in the future, and you need to be prepared for it. Living with those Muggles is not going to prepare you for it."

"So, you're…going to teach me?" Harry frowned. "And I'll get to live here while you do?"

"Yes."

"But why?" Harry insisted, and Lucius had a hard time keeping his teeth gnashing inaudible. "I don't know you. If my parents were magic, why did they put me with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia? Wasn't there someone else who was also magic who could've kept me? How come you've only decided to teach me now?"

Good Lord, he was irritating. So like his father…oh, Merlin, Severus would have a fit if the boy turned out to be anything like James Potter.

"Well, Potter…"

"And why do you keep using my last name?" Harry interjected. Now that he had acclimatised to his new surroundings and had had a chance to talk to the funny-looking man, his natural boldness was reasserting itself. "Not that I'm complaining, the Dursleys never even used my name at all…"

"Potter!" Lucius snapped, finally fed up. "I am offering you a home and an education that you should have had since birth. The whys and hows of it all do not matter tonight. It is a very long story and you will learn about the details in due time. Now, it is very late, and there is a bedroom already prepared for you. We can continue this conversation in the morning."

He stood up and strode to the door, and Harry followed out of both curiosity and a rising hope that he really might be staying with this strange man. Whoever he was, he couldn't be worse than the Dursleys.

Lucius led the boy through the corridors of Malfoy Manor, noting with glee Harry's awed expression at the opulent splendor of the mansion. Lucius was very proud of his home, and it gratified him to see what an obvious impact it was having on the young Potter.

Eventually they came to a solid wooden door in the east wing of the manor. Lucius opened it and gestured inside. "This will be your room."

Eagerly, Harry peeked inside, and was rendered speechless. The room was even bigger than Dudley's — as a matter of fact, Dudley's entire bedroom would probably fit in one corner — and far more interesting. The walls were deep ochre, with jewel green moulding along the top and bottom, and the floor was made of a very expensive-looking wood Harry couldn't recognise. There was a chest of drawers against one wall, and a full-length mirror mounted just beside it. The opposite wall held a fireplace and the door to what Lucius told him was the adjoining bathroom. But by far the most attractive thing in the room to a boy who had spent all his life in a broom cupboard was the queen-sized bed with its large fluffy pillows and silk green sheets.

"This is my room?" he said in awe. "Really?"

Lucius sighed. "Yes, you daft boy. Didn't I just say so?"

"I'm really going to live here?"

Lucius scowled at him. "How many times must I say it, Potter?"

Harry blinked. He hadn't exactly thought the man was lying about his staying here, but he hadn't actually believed him either. At least not until he saw this room. It was pretty conclusive evidence even to a seven-year-old that a rich and busy man (Harry assumed he must be busy because grown-ups always were) like Lucius Malfoy would not go to the trouble of preparing such a splendid room for someone he did not intend to let stay there — not to mention spending two hours explaining to him his new living arrangements.

"Go to bed, Potter. Breakfast is at eight sharp. If you oversleep, a house elf will wake you up."

"What's a house elf?" Harry asked at once.

"A magical creature that serves wizards." He might as well begin feeding the boy bits of wizarding knowledge.

"Oh."

"Now go to bed, Potter," Lucius said firmly.

Instead of obeying him, like his own son would have, the audacious boy rushed at him and proceeded to squeeze him around his middle. Lucius's mind blanked for a moment at this unexpected and unwelcome intrusion of his personal space.

"Potter, what are you doing? Get off!"

Harry drew back, his eyes — Lily's eyes, Lucius knew — wide. "Oh, sorry…I just wanted to say thank you…I didn't know you don't like hugs. The Dursleys didn't like hugs either. Not from me, anyway…but Aunt Petunia is always hugging Dudley…"

"Harry Potter," Lucius said sternly, "get into bed now."

"Yes, sir." The boy automatically stood to attention (Lucius was pleased to note this) and finally, finally, ran across his new room and crawled into the bed, murmuring in delight about the softness of the mattress and the smoothness of the sheets. Once he was settled in, Lucius turned off the light orbs with a flick of his wand and turned to leave.

"Thank you!" a muffled voice floated after him.

Sweet Merlin, what had he let Severus talk him into?

After several more minutes, Harry and Draco reluctantly said goodnight and returned to their respective dormitories. Draco was fast asleep within moments, but Harry remained awake for some time, both excited about Hogwarts and displeased with the prospect of pretending to be Draco's enemy for what might possibly be their entire school career.

A/N: Now, a question for you readers: would you prefer weekly or twice weekly updates? Keep in mind that, since I've only written the first year, weekly updates will give you story material for twice as long, but twice weekly updates will get you the story faster. I will abide with the majority and confirm the update frequency once I have received the feedback. Sound off in your comments, and please do tell me what you think.

Mischief managed...for now.