Prologue
Authors Note: Hi! So, another Harry Potter story! Promise that the others are still continuing! As always, this will be slash, just haven't got as far as deciding the pairings yet. This is rated M to be safe - you have been warned!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me
It started early on his fifth birthday – the pain. Uncle Vernon had been especially vicious last night, the basement walls and floor stained red, all because of something Little Harry had no control over; the passage of time, or rather, his birthday. In fact, so great was the damage that had it not been for his magic forcing an early Creature Inheritance (aided and abetted by the hidden horcrux behind his scar), Little Harry would not have survived the night. As it was, the pain very quickly became too much, sending the little boy into the blessed embrace of unconsciousness.
Upon waking later that morning, the little boy was surprised at how well he could see in his cupboard, without his horrid glasses! Not that they had really helped to begin with – Aunt Petunia having obtained them from a local charity shop. And that wasn't all! He could easily hear said Aunt as she moved around in the kitchen.
Not wanting to annoy his Aunt any further than necessary, Harry scrambled up out of bed (if you could call his old baby mattress on the floor and a baby blanket a bed) and threw on his cousin's over-sized castoffs. By the time Aunt Petunia had stormed to his cupboard, rapped sharply on the door, and ordered him 'UP!', he was ready.
However, despite Little Harry's best efforts, Aunt Petunia still screamed the moment she laid eyes on him. The reason? Two black furry little ears, topped with electric blue, were peeking up from his hair, and a matching tail which was currently wrapped round his waist.
"You, you little FREAK! You get right back into your cupboard, I'll not have you contaminating my son! Just you wait til your Uncle hears about this!" the horse-faced woman screeched.
Startled, and with a developing headache from his now-sensitive ears, Harry darted back into his cupboard, Aunt Petunia bolting the door shut behind him. The little boy stayed huddled up in the furthest corner from the door, listening as first his uncle, and then his cousin, came stomping downstairs fro breakfast.
Once the food was finished, Dudley was sent back upstairs, and Uncle Vernon was told what had happened. Letting out a loud bellow, Uncle Vernon stormed into the hall and wrenched the cupboard door open, before reaching in and grabbing the terrified boy.
After getting a good look at him, Vernon sneered.
"Freak looks like one of those genetically-modified pets people buy as a status symbol."
Aunt Petunia frowned.
"We can't possibly keep the boy, Vernon! This isn't that kind of neighbourhood! What'll the neighbours say?" she asked, wringing her hands nervously.
Vernon shook his head.
"No, of course not. We'll tell the neighbours the boy died, if they ask. Keep him in his cupboard for now, and I'll get in touch with that auctioneer friend of mine. Those genetic pets fetch crazy money, after all."
Aunt Petunia nodded.
"Very well, dear. Have a good day at work!" she simpered, while pushing Harry back into his cupboard and slamming the door.
The rest of the day passed by – Harry stayed locked in his cupboard, Dudley went off to play at a friend's house (they didn't want him to be contaminated, after all, so better to keep him out of the house as much as possible), and Aunt Petunia mostly spent the day gossiping; Mrs Number 6's son was heading off to University, Mr Number 3 had got himself a new lawnmower, and just what was Number 7 thinking with that colour scheme?
By the time Uncle Vernon arrived home that night, the Dursley family was in the best mood they had been in since that fateful night three years ago. They were finally getting rid of the freak! And so, after dinner, Uncle Vernon leaned back with a smirk.
"I spoke to Jim at lunch today, there's going to be a pet auction on Saturday, so he's going to be sending across the paperwork tomorrow, then I'll drop off the boy and paperwork in the evening."
"That's great news, Vernon! I'll ensure the freak's ready when you get home." Petunia nodded.
It wasn't long after that they all went off to bed, eagerly counting down to when they'd be 'freak-free'.
The next day (Thursday) passed by in much the same manner. Vernon went off to work, Dudley was packed off to a friend's house, Petunia spied and gossiped away, and Harry was locked in his cupboard. Around 3 o'clock, Petunia dragged Harry out of his small cupboard and into the bathroom, in an attempt to make him more presentable, as 'the more presentable he looks, the more people will pay'.
When Vernon returned, Harry was bundled into the car, with his meagre belongings (his blue baby blanket and a few broken toys obtained from Dudley) stuffed into a broken backpack. After a short drive, Vernon pulled up in-front of a large, grey building.
"Right, boy, out." Vernon snarled happily.
Nervous, Harry scrambled out, keeping a tight grip on his backpack. The moment the door was shut, Vernon grabbed his arm and started pulling him off to a small side-door. Three knocks in quick succession later, they were led down a narrow corridor to a large office.
"Ah, Vernon! Good to see you, is this him?" the man behind the desk gestured towards the small boy.
"Yes, this's the whelp." Vernon said as he shook the offered hand. "We're not sure quite what he is, I'm afraid."
The man hummed, before stepping round his desk.
"Not to worry – we'll soon find that out." he said cheerfully, producing a tape measure.
"Well, looks like he's some kind of fox-hybrid, possibly a Japanese Kitsune, based on his colouring." Jim announced half an hour later. "Either way, he should fetch a tidy sum on Saturday, I'll get the paperwork processed tonight for you. Any particular skills you want on his listing?"
Vernon nodded.
"Yes, due to his age, we've recently started teaching him cooking and the basics of the bedroom."
"Ah, I see. I'll make sure to include those, then." Jim nodded, accepting the paperwork, before pressing a button on his desk, summoning a runner. "Please take the baby Kitsune to the stalls, and let Nancy know that he's going up Saturday."
The man nodded, before taking Harry's hand and leading him out into the corridor. Harry didn't bother paying attention to where they were going, choosing instead to focus on the novel feeling of someone holding his hand.
The stalls turned out to be a section of the building with several corridors filled with rooms, some were little more than cages, while others were a LOT more comfortable. Harry found himself installed in one of the moderate rooms, with a soft-ish bed, and a window. Exhausted, Harry simply crawled into bed – he was only five, after all, and it was late.
Friday was just awful. It started with Nancy taking him to a classroom, and going over 'the rules', before handing him over to the trainers, to drum in as much as possible. Finally to finish the day, he was taken through to the auction room and walked through what was going to happen tomorrow morning, and sent off to bed.
Harry was woken up early on Saturday and put through a rigorous cleaning, followed by a quick breakfast, before being taken to the holding area. The other Pets ignored him, those from higher levels too busy making themselves look good, and the lower levels too nervous to socialise. Auction Procedure required Pets to go up in ascending levels, so as an 'unranked', Harry was up first.
It was different from yesterday evening, the noise was frightening – the crowd, the caller, even the humming from various electrical devices. The stage was now brightly lit in major contrast to the dark seating area. Stepping out onto the stage, Harry was almost consumed with panic and sensory overload, enough to miss the caller's introduction and comments.
By the time he had managed to regain control and focus on what was happening, the auctioneer's hammer had fallen.
"Sold!"