Response to a challenge

Posted by: Smiles
Sub!Harry, Top!Draco, AU - Draco is a prince and Harry is a slave. There is no Voldemort but Harry's parents are still dead. Story starts at the slave market where Draco buys Harry. It should be mpreg so the two can be together in the end. ((Course it won't be quite that simple.))

There are men who earn power, men who take power, and men who are forced to have power. The latter of the three are, more often than not, the ones who despise the world they live in. They despise the fact that they are forced to be cruel, forced to punish, and forced to kill. There is a way out though, that not many have been successful in discovering. (Dracos Pet, 2008)

The Beauty of Power

The dirt sifts off of the shovel as it's moved a few inches over the ground. It's tossed into the two fresh holes. Hollow thuds echo through his ears. He closes his eyes and covers his ears to try and stop the tears. His eyes were no longer a vibrant green. They seemed to have died with them; died with his parents.

The boy flinches when the dirt continues until he can no longer hear it hitting the wood. He turns away to leave when he's grabbed by a sore arm. He tries to jerk it away and looks up at the man who grabbed him. "S-sir?" he asks, knowing that the man is of higher class. Yellow, crooked teeth are shown in a gruesome, pitiful excuse of a smile. "You're coming with me. Your parents had debts that you need to pay."

Fear ran through the boy as he fought the urge to struggle free. The man sneered at the boy. "Come on then." He growled dangerously before pulling the boy away before he could glance back at his parents' fresh graves. The boy kicked and screamed, trying to escape the strange man. He cried out sharply when a meaty hand connected with his cheek, causing him to wheel around as much as his body would allow. He whimpered and continued to struggle. Ignoring the boy's protests, the rather large man yanked on the boys arm, potentially pulling it from its socket as he waddled with the boy behind him.

"Mother! Father!" he cried out as he looked behind him at the graves, somehow hoping that it was all a lie and they'd suddenly pop out and save him. Fresh, hot tears started to fall from the boys defeated eyes.

Draco scoffed again as he parents told him to take charge. He despised the fact that they wanted him to rule the country as his grandfather had; ruthlessly and fiercely. He hated it. He took a breath and left the castle, pushing his way through unsuspecting servants. He took to his horse, wanting to get away from the pressure his parents represented.

The horse was pushed to its limits, galloping as hard as it could to appease its rider. Draco gritted his teeth as he forced the horse to slow down. He stopped near a stream, where? He didn't know. All he knew was that he was away from his parents, from responsibility, from what he was about to be forced to be. He looked at his reflection, gray eyes stormy from anger, fear, and frustration. His hair was tousled and thrown out of place from the wind. His breath came out in puff from trying to stay on his horse. He threw his hand through the water, not wanting to see the result of the pressure he had been thrown under. He growled and sat on the bank, watching the creatures in the water going about life as if nothing were wrong.

A sharp cry echoed through the woods and Draco snapped his head up, searching for the source. He stood up slowly and dusted himself off before mounting his horse again, stroking the black and white fur. He guided the horse towards the narrow, dirt road. Worry struck him though as he noticed how dense the trees were that enveloped the small hidden road. He heard the scream again and urged his horse to move faster, not quite galloping yet. He saw a small shack lined with warning signs.

A cart and aging horse outside the front of the pitiful building as Draco neared and stopped his own horse. He grabbed the reins and guided the horse by foot towards the property. "Is anyone here?" he asked, straightening to his royal stature.

A large man rounded a corner, tugging a teenage boy by his dark hair. He looked at Draco and tossed the boy into the caged cart. "Get in there and stay in there, boy." He growled before waddling over to the young prince.

"How can I help you, Your Majesty?" the man asked with a deep bow, so deep he had trouble getting up again.

Draco eyed the man with distaste. "I want to know why that boy was screaming." He stated simply.

This took the man off guard; the prince was supposed to be a cruel man, trained as such to rule the country effectively when he took the crown. None the less, the fat man straightened slightly, though he kept his body in a slight bow to show respect to someone of higher class, especially to one so much higher up the food chain than himself. He cleared his throat and looked back at the boy he'd thrown into the caged cart.

"You see that boy over there? The one you saw me with? He was giving me trouble. Says I can't sell him at the market today because he's me nephew. Bollocks I say. If someone wants to buy him, then I'll sell 'im. 'Ve already got an offer from one of the Lords. Lord Riddle to be exact." The man finished with a greedy grin as he glanced at the boy again.

Draco grimaced. The slave market; how disgusting. He sneered slightly at the man. He took in his appearance, noting the greasy hairy that the man had tried to comb back, the acne riddled face that made the man even more deplorable, and the ratty clothes that had amazingly been kept somewhat clean. Draco unconsciously took a step away from the man, his hand itching to take out a kerchief and cover his nose with it. He refrained though, deciding that he'd rather leave instead.

"I'll leave you to your… Work then." He grimaced once more and mounted his horse. He turned back towards the man, "Which market?" he asked as he glanced at the boy in the cage.

The man looked up again, "The main one sir, Lord Riddle requested that one." He said before giving a low bow, again struggling to get up, and went back to the cart, climbing into the front and urging to old horse into motion.

"Boy!" The large man bellowed at the top of his lungs.

The green eyed boy looked up and shook his head again. "N-No! You've… I can't! I won't let you!" he let out a soft cry as the mans large hand collided with his cheek. His own hand flew to his cheek to try and soothe the swelling that was sure to develop as he let out a sob.

The large man glowered at the boy. "You'll do as I say, boy. You're being sold. Whatever he does with you is no business of mine. Now get out there!" he said before kicking the boy onto the platform, not caring that the boys clothes were falling off or the fact that the bruises shone brightly against his sun tanned skin.

He was scared, so many faces, so many hands, so many eyes. There were no escapes that he could see. He wouldn't even be able to get to one if he found it. Alone he stood on the stage. Alone. That one word ran through his mind as he kept his eyes downcast. He refused to cry though. He'd done enough of that. If he cried now, he'd surely stay alone. And he didn't want that.

The bidding was starting.

A tall man with dark hair and vivid scarlet eyes stood in the corner. He tilted his head and the auctioneer shouted a number. The other men shifted and raised their hands, tilted their heads, shouted numbers, and eyed the boy hungrily.

It felt like forever before it was coming to a close. The bidding was now between a cloaked man and the scarlet eyed man. The boy looked between the two of them, scared to know who was under the cloak. The numbers he heard continued to rise, until the scarlet eyed man had to withdraw, not willing to spend his fortune on a slave.

The large man pulled the boy off the stage with a grimace, tossing him to the cloaked figure that had won him, who caught the light boy gently with ease. He was immensely upset that the scarlet eyed man hadn't fought harder for the boy. He'd be fairly rich even after having paid off his debts. It was also shocking that it had gotten to the point where the Scarlet eyed man had had to pull out of the bidding. The large man sighed and turned away; jingling the bag of coins he'd been paid. Off to the next slave.

The boy looked up at the cloaked figure, gasping softly when he caught a glimpse of the face underneath it. It couldn't be. He looked away, unwilling to let his mind wander to what he thought this man might do to him and in turn make him try to escape. He bit his lip and stayed put, though he didn't relax or let his guard down in any way shape or form.

The next thing the boy knew; he was in a lavish carriage heading towards the castle in the country. He looked over at the person who'd bought him, groaning inwardly when he realized that the only person who could have bought him was one of two people; the king, or the prince. And he highly doubted that the prince would go so low as to buy a slave when he disapproved of it openly. The king might have been more apt to buy another slave to put to work around the castle to perform the endless list of duties that most likely existed.

His breath left him when he saw just who had bought him, recognizing that face from earlier that day. But why would the prince buy him? He abhorred slave trading and keeping.

"What's your name?" the velvet voice asked when he'd pulled off the hood and unknowingly caused the boy to lose all train of thought.

Well? Was it worth the wait?

Please Review! I love them and they spur me on to write more chapters. -nodnod-

~Dracos Pet