I've been playing with this idea for a while now and I finally decided to actually write it down. This is my first fanfic, so please review and let me know what you think.

This will be SLASH! You have been warned. Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that looks like JKR's ideas, world, characters, etc. I do like to think that I own my own ideas and OCs, but they might have been influenced by the many many fanfics that I have read in the past. If I think of a specific fanfic that influenced me and am able to find it, I'll be sure to mention it in an author's note at the bottom or something. Basically, don't sue me, because I'm broke and I don't mean any offense or harm. I'm just writing for fun.

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Henry Blackstone stood up from the dinner chair, having finally finished a rather dull meal with a rather dull, and frankly rather disgusting, family of muggles who were, unfortunately, rather highly connected with the drill company in which he was considering investing a small fortune. For although Henry was a pureblood English wizard, and although most English wizards of good standing, himself included, looked down on muggles, Henry was a businessman first and foremost. As such, while he disdained of muggles in general, he made an exception for muggle money and invested in promising businesses regardless of whether they were run by wizards, muggles, or even squibs, though he usually tried to avoid supporting businesses run by idiotic, ignorant mudbloods.

As he was saying polite and lengthy goodbyes to the Dursley family though, he felt something that immediately caught his attention. A rather strong burst of magic, though it did not feel as though it had much of a purpose. Even more surprising, it seemed to come from rather close by, which shouldn't have happened in an unremarkable muggle neighborhood such as this. Perhaps it was a rather strong muggleborn? But, there it was again, and no, that was very close. Likely even in this house. By this time the muggles had noticed that his attention was elsewhere. He decided that perhaps he should inquire about it, delicately, of course. If they grew suspicious of anything, he could always just obliviate them of the question and pretend nothing had happened.

"Forgive me, I couldn't help but notice, is it possible that you have another child staying here?" he inquired as casually as he could manage.

The reaction was rather interesting. The man... Vernon, he vaguely recalled, started to turn rather red in the face, while the woman, as skinny as the man was fat and just as unattractive, went the opposite route and turned a rather deathly pale before she regained her bearings. Their child, who looked to be the size of two children, simply stood quietly behind his mother with his eyes wide. The woman recovered first. "Oh, that's just our nephew. His parents died in a car crash a few years ago and foisted him on us. He's a troublemaker and will probably go the way of those useless parents of his, but we do our best to keep him in line, of course. He doesn't behave well with guests though, so we had him stay in his room for dinner for tonight. You understand." She smiled shakily.

No, he did not understand. These disgusting muggles, far more disgusting than most, actually, seemed to have a magical nephew who they didn't even appear to appreciate properly. He wondered if all muggleborns suffered through being ostracized like this child apparently was. The child was probably called a troublemaker for his accidental magic, too.

"I'd very much like to meet your nephew, if it's not too much trouble." He added a mild compulsion with his words, ensuring that it would definitely not be much trouble, even though the muggles were clearly not comfortable with the idea.

Vernon sputtered briefly before giving in. "Ah, very well." He raised his voice. "Boy! Get in here!"

Henry heard the creaking of a nearby door, then saw a small head with messy black hair peek out through the door from the hallway. A small child shuffled in with his head down. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?" the boy said, barely more than a whisper.

Henry Blackstone was concerned. This was not a well-treated, troublemaking boy. This boy was dressed in rags that looked to be the fat child's castoffs. And the child was so skinny. He wondered how many of this child's meals had been instead given to the fat, spoiled boy that the muggles clearly favored over their scrawny nephew.

Vernon rather stiffly made the introductions. "Boy, this is a potential future business partner, Henry Blackstone. Mr. Blackstone, this is our nephew."

Henry wondered what the poor boy's name was. The boy looked at him briefly, bright green eyes darting up through long, unruly bangs to meet his own before darting down to the floor again. Henry noticed that the child seemed to be staying out of reach of his relatives as well. This would not do. Abuse of magical children was simply not tolerated among wizards. Children were precious. And this child was probably being punished for his accidental magic, which would only cause him to subconsciously suppress his magic.

He examined the boy more closely. Hmm, the messy hair could probably be tamed when it lengthened a bit, and a blood adoption might help that as well... but it was the boy's bright green eyes that truly caught his attention and sympathy. Eyes that seemed so intelligent and yet were filled with a sadness and hopelessness that children's eyes should not have. He wanted so badly to simply obliviate these filthy muggles and take the child with him. His wife was unable to bear children no matter how much she wanted to. They could finally have a child, his dear wife would likely mother the child to death and would help him overcome his time with these muggles, and they could raise him as a magical child should be raised, fully aware of traditions, customs, and etiquette. This child would not grow up to be a mudblood if he had any say in the matter.

In fact, he pondered something that made him grimace slightly, but perhaps... the muggles did not appear to care for the child, and the man seemed to be a foul enough person...

"Hmm," he walked around the child predatorily. He hated acting like this, but he wanted to make sure everything was kept legal. He only just managed to avoid being noticed as anything more than a supporter in the trials of the Dark Lord's followers a few years ago and he did not intend to draw attention to himself with kidnapping charges should his rescue of the boy be discovered. And these muggles seemed just vicious enough that they would look down on any sort of kind or sympathetic treatment of the boy. "You say he's a troublemaker?"

"Yes, it takes a firm hand to keep the boy in his place sometimes, but we try to keep him busy as much as we can. At least the boy helps around the house a bit, when he's properly motivated."

Properly motivated? Oh yes, this boy was coming with him. He could only imagine what the oversized man thought was proper motivation.

"And he knows his way around chores, you say?" still eyeing the poor boy like a piece of meat. The muggle man, a businessman like himself, caught his intent readily enough. And from the woman's mixed expression of disgust and eagerness with an interesting tinge of wariness, Henry gathered that she understood as well. The fat boy, who didn't seem too intelligent to begin with, showed confusion and seemed to decide that sucking on his thumb, thought the brat would've grown out of such habits, he's certainly big enough, was far more interesting than what the adults were talking about. The green-eyed child, and by now Henry was certain the child was magical, stood stiffly and appeared slightly confused at first, but then his eyes widened in fright and Henry was both glad the child was intelligent enough to catch on and saddened that the boy would even consider such things a possibility.

The woman spoke up. "Yes, he knows his way around most household chores as well as gardening. We've started him on cooking too, and though he still burns things occasionally, he's been learning."

Cooking? The child can't be older than three, maybe four if he's been that horribly malnourished. And people called Death Eaters monsters? "Cooking? He looks a bit young for that."

Vernon grunted like the disgusting animal he was. "He manages. He's rather low maintenance, too. The brat knows to stay out of the way and to stay quiet. Knows not to ask questions or anything. As we said, he is a bit of a troublemaker, but a firm hand every now and then keeps him in line."

Henry resisted the urge to sneer at them, and instead put on a thoughtful face. "I could do with a bit of help around the house, and I'm sure I'd be able to stem his troublemaking urges... I wonder if you'd consider having me take him off your hands for you?" The woman looked like she was considering objecting so he added a mild compulsion. He made it weak enough to avoid detection from other wizards and so that if the filth actually cared about the boy he would have to try a different route, but strong enough so that they would consider his offer seriously, regardless.

Vernon seemed nearly overjoyed with the offer. His wife, Henry couldn't care less about the woman's name, seemed hesitant, but her eyes were gleaming and Henry knew she would agree. The miniature tub of lard looked interested now, eyes wide in confusion and... was that excitement? The boy in question looked like a cornered rabbit by this point, but he remained still with his eyes on the floor. Poor boy. I'm going to have to apologize to him later for frightening him like this.

Vernon, ever the businessman, spoke up. "Well, as much of a burden as he is, he is rather useful around the house, and he is family, after all..." he trailed off, clearly looking to Henry to make an offer for the suddenly extremely useful and precious child. Henry internally snorted at the disgusting man's transparent attempt to get more money for the boy he would probably quite gladly dump at an orphanage for free if the poor child weren't 'useful'.

"I understand your hesitance, of course." He responded, reminding himself that he really should refrain from simply cursing them and kidnapping the child. "Perhaps a thousand pounds would ease the strain of losing him?" Henry considered this high for how horribly these people treated the boy. They had probably barely spent a few hundred pounds on him over the years that the boy had lived here. But he wanted to make sure the muggles were satisfied and had no reason to turn on him later or report the boy missing, not that he would allow them to remember exactly who he was.

"Fifteen hundred," Vernon said, beady eyes gleaming.

"Very well, but for that much I want it made official. I will have papers drawn up to transfer his guardianship, and I'll bring them by tomorrow." He pulled out his checkbook. "I would like to take him with me tonight, get to know him a bit before I sign the papers. Perhaps a thousand today and the rest tomorrow when we make it official? The money of course will be written off as a gift for your... care of the boy so far."

"Certainly, certainly. As long as you don't change your mind when you see how much of a troublemaker he is."

Filthy muggle. You mean as long as I don't change my mind should he do any accidental magic. But instead he smiled and responded genially, "Of course not. I'm sure I'll be able to put him to use, troublemaker or no. By the way, what is the boy's name?" As though he wasn't dying to know what to call the poor boy.

Vernon snorted and the woman sneered. Even their son snickered in a decidedly unfriendly way. "No need to worry about that, Mr. Blackstone. He knows to respond to both Boy and Freak, though I'm sure if you decide to call him something else he'll learn quickly enough."

Henry gritted his teeth. How dare they? Instead he sneered nastily and laughed. It wasn't at all hard to pull off, except that instead of sneering at the poor, apparently nameless, child and laughing at the muggles' cleverness and cruelty, he was sneering at the disgusting filth that would treat a magical child that way and laughing as he imagined how he could curse them in the future so that they suffered for what they had done, and yet so that he would not get caught. Or perhaps he should save that pleasure for the boy, when he was older.

"Very well. Brat, you're coming to live with me. Go pack anything you need." He watched as the frightened boy scurried off to pack whatever these muggles had deigned to provide him with while he lived with them.

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Boy Freak, or Freak Boy, he wasn't quite sure which, wasn't sure what to think. His uncle had called him in to meet that business partner, though he wasn't sure why since usually his family preferred to pretend he didn't exist, especially around guests. Then, the man and his uncle had started talking about his uncle selling him. Surely that wouldn't happen. He was useful enough to stay, wasn't he? But apparently he was worth fifteen hundred pounds, which, he admitted to himself, sounded like a lot of money. Maybe the other man wouldn't be so bad? Maybe, if he was willing to spend that much money just to buy him, the man wouldn't mind the money it would cost to feed him? Maybe the man would actually feed him so he wouldn't be hungry all the time anymore? There wasn't much he could do about it either way. The man wasn't giving him any chance to run away, and Boy doubted he could survive on the streets anyway, as young as he was.

He gathered his clothes from his cupboard under the stairs where he lived and wrapped them up in the threadbare blanket that he had had for as long as he remembered. He hesitated, then grabbed the two half-melted plastic toy soldiers he had scavenged from the trash one day. Dudley had left them too close to the fireplace and they had gotten ruined, but they seemed like fine toys to Boy, as long as he didn't get caught with them. He looked around the cupboard that had been his home, his only refuge from his uncle's anger, his cousin's bullying, and his aunt's sneers. He quietly said goodbye to the spiders in the corner and explained that he was leaving now, making an effort not to cry. Crying didn't solve anything, and more often than not earned him a hit to the head or a lack of food for the night, not like that was unusual.

Maybe the new man might be better, he told himself as he made his way back to the entryway where everyone else was standing. He looked at the family who he could hardly call family, who had just sold him, then he looked at the man who had bought him. At least the man looked like he would be easier to cook for than his uncle and cousin, if his size was anything to go by.

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After handing over the check and assuring the muggles that his car was parked just around the block and that he'd be back tomorrow with the papers to finalize the sale, so to speak, Henry Blackstone, pureblooded dark wizard, suspected supporter of the recently fallen Dark Lord, left the Dursley household with what he thought was an abused muggleborn orphan without a name, though he supposed he'd learn the boy's name tomorrow when they made the guardianship change official. He decided that he would alter the muggles' memory tomorrow, so that they remembered only that he was a business acquaintance. There was no need to take any chances when potentially dealing with the light, some of whom would probably prefer that the boy grew up with muggles, ignorant of wizarding traditions, rather than be raised properly by dark wizards.

Henry walked down the block with his future child trailing behind him. He walked until he turned the corner, then he stopped and turned around, kneeling so that he was facing the child, trying to look as unthreatening as possible in the evening light. The poor child looked terrified.

"You don't need to be frightened, child," Henry said softly. "I saw that they didn't treat you well there, so I pretended to think the same so they would let me take you away from them. No child should ever be treated the way those people treated you. I mean you no harm, little one. My wife can't have children, and I am hoping that we can raise you as our own child. I will take care of you, child, and I promise you'll never have to go back to those horrible people. Do you understand, child?"

The boy nodded slowly, looking confused, but slightly less afraid.

"I'm going to take you to my home now, child. I didn't actually use a car to get here. I used a different method of traveling that I doubt your relatives know about. I suppose you could think of it like teleporting. It's a bit uncomfortable the first few times you try it, but it's much faster and easier than using a car, okay?" Henry decided he'd deal with the whole 'magic is real' conversation once they got home, and maybe once he got some food in the poor boy.

The boy looked skeptical and confused, but nodded anyway. After all, the boy figured, he was still young. Maybe it was some sort of travel method that only really rich people could afford or something.

Henry smiled at the boy, stood up, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder, standing close to him. He spared a brief "brace yourself" comment for the boy, looked around to make sure no one could see them, then without further ado apparated to his home with his future son.

So, what do you think? Please review! Encouragement is welcome! Pretty please? And please be gentle, this is my first fic.