Title: The Apprentice

Author: Intrepid Aarcher

Summary: AU The Golden Prince of Gryffindor has fled leaving behind a young emissary who is taken in by Snape, Advisor to the King. Why doesn't Prince Draco trust him? And why is the Dark Lord interested? HPDM

Disclaimer: I'm not making any money out of this foray into the world of fan fiction. I just like to borrow the characters.

Warnings: eventual Harry/Draco slash. So that's male/male duh. A bit of abuse here and there, and some pretty dark themes.

CHAPTER ONE

Auction

Prince Draco sat down stiffly in the hard backed chair he was ushered to in order to watch the auctions. The hot sun pierced through the elaborate cloth awning and beat down upon his fair skin, over-heating and making him damp and sweaty. It was usual weather for this time of year.

The rains had come leaving the gardens in the palace courtyards lush and green, an abundance of vines and flowers climbed over walls and along the clean stonework, their heavy perfume tainting the air. The effect was beautiful, causing the white stone minarets and towers of the palace to come alive with splashes of colour.

Draco was not in the Palace. The auctions were held in a large square in the centre of town, just outside the palace walls. Colourful market stalls had been set up around the edges hoping to attract the custom of the large and noisy crowd gathered to gawk at the slaves. Dust filled the air, carried into the city by travellers and stirred up by troupes of marching soldiers patrolling the streets.

He hated these events. For all he was in an enclosure high above the proceedings and general squalor of the town square, he still felt exposed and dirty.

His father beside him and his advisor Snape seemed to find themselves in a similar predicament. The King of Slytherin looked impatient as he tapped his perfectly manicured fingers on the head of his cane, occasionally flicking his long blonde tresses back over his shoulder to keep cool. His young advisor and friend watched the proceedings through narrow eyes, a permanent scowl etched onto his face. Draco sniggered as he watched the man appear totally at ease in the scorching heat dressed entirely in black.

Draco huffed as he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Why did they have to come here? The twenty-two year old found it distasteful to watch and usually avoided such dealings but for some reason his father had wanted to attend today. That was odd in itself: Slytherin had never condoned slavery, well at least not before their Overlord Voldemort had seized power.

Voldemort was a dangerous man, worming his way into power when he usurped Dumbledore of Hogwarts, slowly asserting his influence over the other four great nations. King Lucius had been forced to sign a treaty with the snake-like man, or else crumble under the new reign of terror. Ravenclaw - always firm allies of Slytherin, had also signed, wise in their approach to appease the Dark Lord.

Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had not been so sensible.

The gentle people of Hufflepuff survived mere months before being crushed under the fist of Lord Voldemort. Their lands were taken as they were forced into slavery; the majority had been shipped to the new colonies in the west, a subservient community ready-made in order to expand the Dark Lord's empire.

Today' auction included the sale of the last remnants of the once-mighty nation of Gryffindor.

While Slytherin had not always seen eye to eye with the neighbouring Gryffindor, there always existed a truce of sorts between them, held firm by the ancient system of harbouring hostages. Indeed it had been common practise for children of nobility to spend time with a family from across the border. It was seen as an honour to be invited to learn the ways and customs of another nation. These children often grew up to have senior positions in society, so extensive was their knowledge base and experience.

One such privileged child was Severus Snape, now senior advisor to the King. Draco didn't know the details (the man was hardly one for idle conversation), but he did know that he had been reluctant to leave, and had only returned to Slytherin when relations had turned sour between Gryffindor and Voldemort.

That was seven years ago. An ugly war had raged on for the better part of that time, savaging the fertile lands of Gryffindor and destroying its people. It was a sad day a few years before when the Malfoy household had learned of the reported deaths of the Gryffindor King and Queen. Draco himself had remained unaffected. He had never met them, and was secretly jealous of the attention lavished on the Golden Prince, a boy only a blessed few were allowed to look upon. He was reputedly so beautiful that the Dark Lord himself had claimed him for his own. When Voldemort had learned of his disappearance he had put to death the unfortunate messenger who brought the news.

At least the Snake has no vested interest in me. Draco thought and smirked. What a coward the Golden Prince was, fleeing to save his own skin instead of rising up to lead his people in their darkest hour. It would have been better to die defending his country than sully his family's name.

Draco opened his eyes to watch the awful spectacle once again. On sale today apart from the usual trade was apparently the last stragglers of a resistance movement fighting for their country. These people were the true Gryffindors despite how futile their chances were, not the pathetic deserter. Golden Prince my arse.

His eyes roamed over the group of eight or so teens. They were filthy. Each looked as though they had been imprisoned for some time, their clothes were in shreds and their faces were hardly discernable through a thick layer of grime.

He watched as the announcer dragged a hapless Gryffindor to the centre of the platform.

"Prisoner Six hundred and ninety-THREE!" the fat man bellowed. The young girl he held by the back of her flaming red hair stood proudly, defiantly staring out into the crowd.

He watched with detached amusement as a bidding war started between a pair of fat merchant rivals. Each was determined to outdo the other, whether either really wanted the girl he couldn't tell. Finally, the round came to a halt when one put forward three times as much as his rival offered, grinning triumphantly and laughing jovially with his companions, his thick jowls wobbling with each word issued from his mouth.

By the time Draco tore his eyes away from the merchant, the red-haired girl had been shoved off the platform and the next prisoner was brought forward.

"Prisoner Six hundred and ninety-FOUR!" the announcer roared.

The boy looked to be about fourteen, although he couldn't tell for sure under the layer of filth masking everything from his hair to his skin tone. He stood there meekly with his head lowered. Draco could tell no-one would want this unremarkable creature.

"No takers?" The announcer yelled. "I assure you he's in perfect health! Perfect for labour around the home! Good strong physique! Nice form!" He prodded the boy and forced his hands into his mouth. "Good teeth!"

All of a sudden the man gave a startled cry as said teeth bit hard into his fleshy fingers. Immediately the guard set upon the boy, sending him sprawling to the ground with one swift blow to the back of his head.

Draco caught a flash of brilliant emerald as the boy's eyes looked around wildly for a moment before rolling back into his head as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Severus Snape sat up very straight. Firmly placing his hand on his King's forearm, he quietly drew Lucius' attention and gave him a significant look, a wild light gleamed in his eyes.

"I could do with an apprentice who had a bit of spirit about him." he said offhandedly.

Draco looked at him in shock. This man did not suffer fools lightly and had never taken on a trainee to lessen his workload even when practically ordered to do so. The idea that the advisor would take on this grubby boy was beyond Draco's comprehension.

Understanding dawned on Lucius' face and Draco's eyes narrowed as his father's voice boomed over the raucous the boy's action had caused.

"Unhand that prisoner!" All action in the square ceased immediately as the voice of the King was heard.

"He will be brought to the Palace unharmed. Is that clear?"

Draco looked sideways at his father as he leaned towards his advisor.

"Are you sure, Severus?"

Draco's jaw dropped in amazement at a never-before seen sight as the dark-haired man grinned showing a set of uneven teeth. He shook his head in disbelief and turned his attention back to the boy being thrown over the shoulder of one of the royal guards and didn't hear what the man said next in a quiet voice.

"It's him."

End Chapter One

A/N: I hope that was a good start! Please let me know if you're interested in me continuing this fic!