Bounty Hunter

Title: Bounty Hunter

Rating: R-ish

Author: Snippy

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS (a little)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me. Sadly.

Summary: Warning: dark fic, character death and H/D slash. This story is not light and hope and puppies, people. The bounty hunter is going after the Death Eaters one by one, but at what price? This story is not about black and white, it’s about shades of grey. Can people change? Can a hero become a villain? Can a villain save a hero? And which is which?

FYI:

(****) indicates a scene shift.

(*~*~*~*) indicates a flashback

(*word*) emphasis

****************************************************************************************************Harry stood in the middle of his room, arms folded loosely about his chest. His face was an impassive mask, but underneath it emotions consumed him like a wild brush fire in The Forbidden Forest. His fingers clenched impulsively. Harry’s life was a hurricane, and he had made it a point to always stand in the eye of the storm. Moody had taught him well. No matter the torrents of rain or gale force winds of turmoil that surrounded him, he stayed calm and in control. Until now.

Malfoy – Draco ignited emotions inside him, rage, frustration, hate, and desire. Harry was made of ice, and Draco was like heat lightning. When he looked into Draco’s stormy eyes, he no longer wanted to be in the eye of the storm. He wanted to step into the middle of the maelstrom, tip his head back and laugh as the power of it consumed him. Of course, Harry did dangerous, slightly reckless things everyday. He walked on the edge. Nothing scared Harry anymore. Until now.

Draco had to die. It was more than Harry’s “quest” now. If Draco could make him feel like this, he was dangerous. And Harry was too close to doing what he had set out to do to let something get in the way now. Harry now had the chance to kill him, Draco was waiting downstairs for it to happen. Harry saw it in his eyes, that he had accepted death. It was a look Harry had become very familiar with. Harry had wanted to kill Draco since Oliver Wood died. Until now.

It didn’t really matter what he wanted, Harry decided. It was too late to change the scripts. In the beginning he had just been pretending to be the cold-blooded killer Moody wanted and all the other Aurors shied away from. But one truth had been pounded into him as each body hit the floor. We all eventually become what we pretend to be. It had never bothered him. Until now.

Harry gripped his knife in his hand, seeking the sleek lines of the dragon with his fingertips. As soon as he knew that Hermione and Snape were safe, that he wouldn’t need Draco to bargain with Voldemort, Malfoy would die. Glancing out the window, he saw a distant white spot on the approach. Hedwig. The moment was at hand. Slowly, he took a deep breath. He told himself he was just worried about what had happened to Hermione, as he started down the stairs. But Harry wasn’t very good at lying to himself. He had never had a need to. Until now.

**********

Draco turned his head. “How did you find me?” His expression hardened. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Are you alright?” Hermione rushed to his side, running her hands over the ropes that kept him tied to the chair. She completely ignored his warnings. “We have to get you out of here!”

“Hermione, you have to leave right now!” Draco could hear footsteps on the stairs.

She kneeled down in front of him to get a better look at his bonds. “Shut up, Draco. I think these are enchanted.” She tried again to undo the ropes, but they resisted her efforts. Hermione pulled out her wand and was about to try a charm, when she felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Always one to follow her instincts, she ducked back behind the chair, narrowly missing a hex. Glancing towards the back of the room, she caught the sweep of a sleeve by the stairs. The bounty hunter! She rolled to her side, pointing her wand. “Stupendo!”

The hex must have missed him, because she heard a muffled word and suddenly Draco arched up in agony. The spell had missed her, but Draco had just been hit with Crucio. She lifted her wand again. “Finite Incatatum!” Draco sagged back in his chair. She aimed at the shadow in the hallway once more. “Crucio!”

Her spell hit with deadly accuracy. She saw his wand drop to the floor and heard a thud as he must have hit the back wall. But her smug smile melted off her face as she heard him rise. Somehow he must have a resistance to the spell. She ducked and called out, “Imperio!”, her eyes still on the wand on the floor. The rumors were true. He could perform wandless magic and the Unforgivables didn’t touch him.

“Get out of here!” Draco ordered. Gone was the kindly tone of the past few years. It was replaced with that of the overbearing schoolboy she used to know. But it lacked its customary punch, his voice barely a whisper.

Hermione could feel the rage begin boiling inside of her. Other than Severus, Hermione had nothing. She had lost all of her old friends, her school, and had almost lost her life. Everything had been turned upside down. The only constants left in her world were Severus and Draco. She had just left her fellow prisoner alone in the woods, and now one of the ‘good’ guys was trying to take Draco from her! “Show yourself you black-hearted coward!”

“Hermione?” he said softly. It was the last voice she had expected to hear. Her mind refused to recognize it. Trembling, she pulled herself up behind Draco, her hands clutching at his shoulders for support. Draco just shook his head.

Slowly, the figure emerged from the darkness, which clung to the corners of the house. Her eyes fixed on his boots, covered with crumbling dirt, up dark trousers stained with something that resembled blood, to a dark green sweater, snagged in places. She registered the open robe as a Death Eater cloak. Hermione forced herself to look at his face. The harsh angles were lightly covered with stubble, but it was clear who it was. His familiar emerald eyes sparkled with intensity, and as he brushed his longish sable hair out of his eyes, she glimpsed the unmistakable scar. She shook her head, her whole body recoiling. She nearly tripped over her own feet as she backed away. “No. . .no, it can’t be . . . I don’t believe it.” There was an edge of near-hysteria in her voice.

Harry lowered his head, fighting the sinking feeling in his stomach, refusing to acknowledge it as shame. “Believe it.”

Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. “You’re dead.”

He gave a wry laugh. “More or less.”

“You died with Moody and the others,” Hermione insisted stubbornly.

“More or less.” Harry shrugged. “I buried my heart beside him.”

“And what about your soul?” Hermione asked bitterly. “Or did you sell that later?”

“Hermione,” he said quietly, a barely disguised plea in his voice. “This is hard enough without the melodrama. I’ve been going after Death Eaters. That’s what this whole war is about.”

“And here I thought it was about preserving innocence and honor and saving lives.” She returned. She still clutched at Draco’s shoulders. It was habit. After all, he was the thing that had stood between death and herself for a year.

“Ever a Gryffindor, eh, Hermione?” Harry’s sarcasm made her wince.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “And what are you supposed to be? A Slytherin?” She mocked.

“I was supposed to be, you know,” Harry confessed. He was trying desperately to be flippant but he found the mask he’d carefully constructed from the ashes of his former self was slipping. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest to keep from reaching for her. “I’m a bounty hunter.”

“And how much is Draco worth?” Her fingers dug into Malfoy’s shoulders.

“Two million,” Harry replied easily.

Hermione caught her breath, her hand settled over her heart. Tears filled her eyes. “Harry . . .”

“Don’t – “ Harry looked away, studying the floor. “I know what I am, ok? I never wanted you to know . . . “ Harry trailed off as slender arms wrapped around his neck. He looked up startled, meeting her soft brown eyes. Harry fought the emotion welling up in his throat. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Hermione buried her head in Harry’s chest. Her distaste of what he’d become was warring with her joy at finding him alive. “I knew you’d find me.”

“I think you found me,” he admitted, sliding his hand through her hair, cupping her cheek. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. Didn’t want you to know that I was – “

“The bounty hunter?” She asked. He nodded. She laced her hands behind his neck, looking into his eyes. “You’re still Harry Potter to me.”

Harry felt something lurch insiim wim when she said that. He pulled her closer, setting his head on top of hers.

“As touching as all of this is, Potter, do you think I could have your attention for a minute? I know you were planning lots of bondage fun for me, but my hands are falling asleep,” Draco drawled.

“And that’s my concern, why?” Harry glared at Draco over Hermione’s head.

“Oh, Harry! You have to let him go!” Hermione turned, keeping one hand on Harry like she was afraid he’d evaporate into thin air.

“What? Why?” It suddenly occurred to him that he had been dueling with her moments ago because she had been trying to free Draco. Of course, he hadn’t known that it was her at the time.

“Because, he’s not a Death Eater!”

“He’s not?” Harry looked at her, wondering if one of his curses had hit her.

“No. And besides, he’s my friend.”

Harry pulled his wand out, pointing it at her. “Finite Incantatum!”

Hermione stared down at the wand, which was inches away from her nose, impatiently. “He’s still my friend.”

“But . . . why?”

“Still losing circulation here,” Draco pointed out, twisting in his bonds.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry shot back. “Next you’ll be tr to to tell me he’s a spy for our side or some such rot.”

“Uh, well – “

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Harry stared at her.

“Almost as unbelievable as you kissing me earlier, isn’t it, Potter?”

“I’d never deny someone a last request,” Harry replied, with a smirk.

Hermione looked from Draco to Harry. “I’m confused.”

Harry pushed a hand through his hair. “Join the club.”

**********

Harry reclined back on his mattress in the corner of his bedroom. Hermione had just portkeyed to the Ministry of Defense. Hedwig had sent word that Snape had returned, without Hermione, and was absolutely furious about the current state of affairs. Draco stood next to the doorway to the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking imperiously down at Harry. “This is your room?”

“Appears to be, yes.” Harry gestured to the space with small wave. “What do you think?”

“It’s as empty as you are,” Draco replied bluntly.

Empty? Yes, he had been. A few days ago, he had felt like a vast cavern that would never ever be full again. Now, he felt like he was about to overflow with emotion if he didn’t find some outlet. And the only one around was Malfoy. His eyes darkened as he looked the blond over. “Is that how you see me?”

“Yes.” Malfoy’s breath hitched at the predatory gleam in Harry’s eyes. He watched as the green-eyed man rose slowly from his position with a lazy grace, moving deliberately toward him. “There’s nothing left inside you.”

“Nothing inside me?” Harry smirked, coming to a stop in front of him. He placed one hand on either side of Malfoy’s head, blocking him in. He let his hips brush suggestively against him, as he leaned forward to whisper, breath hot in his ear, “Care to change that?”