Title: Bounty Hunter II: Black and White

Author: Snippy of Snippy and Snarky

Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS, (other pairings added as story continues))

Disclaimer: HP & Co NOT MINE – don't sue.

Synopsis: Note: Disregard sixth book as the first Bounty Hunter was written before it came out, and does not incorporate its plots and character arcs. The struggle between shades of grey is enough to tear a hero in two. . .

Rating: Mature, R, Adult – rated for language explicit sexual situations and violence – reader discretion is advised.

A/N's: Ahoy- adult content ahead! Keep your eyes on little Ginny Weasley – and when you get to the end, well, you won't believe what's going to happen next. (Lucky for you guys, I already wrote the next chapter – it'll be up soon.)

Thanks. Peace, love and a couple of sarcastic snakes!

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Bane regarded the marble chess set before him on the coffee table, safely ensconced in the Slytherin Common Room once more. He was awaiting Draco's return from the Great Hall.

As he looked around the room, he noted a long black box with an emerald green ribbon tied around it. The box sat innocently on the mantle of the fireplace, but Bane was sure that it hadn't been there before. Intrigued, he stood and picked it up. There was a card attached to the ribbon.

Long live the House of Black . . .

"Lucius and his flare for melodrama," Bane sighed.

Opening the box, he found a wand nestled in its velvet lining. Voldemort's wand. He lifted it into his hand and gave it a wave. The pieces on the chess board twirled into the air, the black pieces exchanging places with the white on either side of the board.

"Fascinating."

"Ha – Bane?"

Bane turned, tucking the wand into his pocket. "Draco. Come in – sit down."

Draco cautiously sat in one of the chairs, noting the chess set on the table before him. "Care for a game?"

"Think you can challenge me?" Bane purred, sitting down across from him.

"Would you care to make a wager?"

Bane smirked. "What terms?"

"100 galleons?"

"Money bores me."

"Was there something else you wanted?" Draco asked, his silver eyes the color of storm clouds.

"Yes, there is." Bane leaned forward. "Let's just bet a favor – a big favor."

"A friend doesn't have to win a wager to beg a favor."

"I beg no one." Bane gestured at the board. "White moves first."

Draco regarded the board, moving a pawn noncommittally.

"So, Draco, did you know Lucius was still alive?" Bane countered without looking at the board.

"No, but I wasn't exactly surprised." Draco moved another pawn. The air around them felt electrified. Bane held an essence, a vitality that the other Harry seemed to be missing now. Harry was comforting, easy. Bane was dangerous, exciting. And Draco was caught in the middle of maelstrom.

"So, how is my other self doing?" Bane looked at Draco from under sooty lashes.

Draco fought the urge to ask if Bane had seen Draco and Harry talking . . . or not talking, as it were. "Seems alright.'

"Tell me, Draco, what favor will you ask should you win?" Bane moved his black knight.

""Wouldn't you like to know?" Draco was starting to feel more like himself, like he was on familiar ground once more. "You first. What do you want?"

Bane watched Draco's elegant fingers curl around a rook. "Knowledge is power, my friend."

"So what do you want to know?"

"I want to know what my other self is up to." Bane took the rook with his knight. "And you, my friend, make the perfect double agent."

"I would think you make the perfect double agent." Draco watched the loss of his rook impassively, then took the knight with a bishop.

"Ironically, I make the perfect double agent with everyone but the most important player."

"Yourself."

"Just so." Bane took the Bishop with a pawn that Draco had never noticed edging closer. "I want you to get close to him."

"How close?" Draco moved another pawn.

"Very, very close." Bane smirked. "Check."

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"Welcome to Malfoy Manor." Lucius bowed in the foyer of his mansion.

"Does Draco know you're staying here?" Ginny crossed her arms over her chest, nervously. She wasn't sure what she was doing here, how she had gotten here. But she had no desire to be anywhere else.

"My son has elected to stay at Hogwarts for the time being, for reasons he has yet to disclose to me." Malfoy turned on his heel, heading for the stairs. "This way, please."

"Where are we going?"

"My private chambers." Lucius turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes."

"Are you coming?"

Ginny swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Good."

Ginny followed him upstairs and into his personal suite. The outer chamber was a drawing room of sorts, with a leather sofa, two wing back chairs and a low marble table. There was a fireplace behind the chairs. The room was finished in deep reds and black iron, a contrast of luxury and rough edges. The carpet was thick, the color of blood and her heels sank into it. To the right of the fireplace was an open door leading to the bedchamber. The wrought iron four poster bed stood on a pedestal with steps leading up to it and appeared to be dressed in deep red velvet. She shivered again.

"Sit." Lucius gestured at the leather sofa as he moved to the sidebar to fix them a drink. "Can I get you something?"

"Whatever you're having."

Lucius set two shot glasses in front of her on the table, filled them and plunked the bottle of aged firewhiskey between them. He raised his glass. "To Tom?"

"To Tom." She clinked the glass against his, leaned her head back and tossed it down. Readily, he refilled their glasses.

"So, how did you know Tom, Virginia?"

"I think you know, Lucius," she countered, licking her lips. The burn of the whiskey smoldered down her throat into her stomach. Her lips twisted in sarcasm. "We were pen pals."

Lucius sat down next to her on the sofa, arranging himself back against the corner, giving her a little breathing room. He looked up through a fringe of golden lashes, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. "I think you were a little more than that."

"Hard to be more than that with a book." Ginny tossed down another shot and Lucius gamely refilled her glass again.

"Unconsummated passion is passion, nonetheless."

"Passion? Is that what it was?" Ginny scoffed. Her skin was heating, from the whiskey or from the heated dreams of past days, she wasn't sure. Idly, she noted that Lucius was a handsome older man. His body firm, strong and mature. His grey eyes as piercing as his son's, his arrogance worn like a cloak around his broad, regal shoulders. He oozed sinister charm.

"Tell me, did you want more?"

"More?" She gazed into the whiskey in her glass. She was starting to feel tipsy and resisted the urge to toss that shot back quickly as well.

Lucius' fingers curled under her chin, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes. His touch burned. "You wanted him to touch you, to feel possessed physically, to be under his control."

Ginny swallowed hard.

"Tom had that effect on some women." He held her face firmly in his hands.

"Some women?" She wet her lips, noting how his eyes followed the motion.

"Women like you."

Ginny pulled away from him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not judging, mind you. But some women like romance, flowers and fluff." Lucius moved closer, trapping Ginny against the back of the couch with a hand on either side of her legs. "And others like something a little more rough around the edges, a little more dangerous."

"And you think I'm the latter."

"Aren't you?" He lifted a hand to roll a red curl around his fingers, testing the softness. With the edge of his fingers stroking her skin, he tucked it behind her ear, leaning in to whisper to her. "Don't you want to be fully possessed, owned . . . taken?"

"I – I – "

"Right now, aren't you a little turned on because you're cornered here?" He pressed his thumb against the racing pulse at the base of her neck. "Your heart is racing."

"I'm afraid."

"Of me? Or you?" His hand slid across her skin, cupping her face while his thumb brushed over her lips. "Or are you afraid that no one will be able to do what Tom did to you?"

Ginny closed her eyes, silently admitting to everything Lucius was saying. "Maybe."

"I can give you a taste of that." His fingers slid into her hair, holding her head firmly in place. "I can make you feel like that again."

Ginny felt a wave of desire work its way through her. What was she doing?

"You know you want it," Lucius whispered. "I could take you right here on this sofa."

Her whole body was shaking, her eyes fixed on his. Almost imperceptibly, she nodded.

Lucius' mouth forcefully covered hers, drawing her into a deep kiss. He placed a hand on her chest, pushing her down into the couch and covering his body with hers. Ginny gasped for breath, before eagerly seeking his mouth again. His fingers stroked her thighs, reaching the hem of her skirt and shoving it up around her waist. She hooked one leg around his waist, as his hand slid under her panties and his fingers sunk deep inside her.

"This is . . . wrong," she panted.

"I know." He wrapped a hand lightly around her throat, looking into her eyes. "That's why you like it."

Ginny heard the zipper on his pants being undone. His thick, hard cock pressed against her wet opening. She gasped as he slid slowly, deeply inside her.

"More," she breathed. His hand around her throat tightened and loosened with his thrusts, the lack of oxygen and danger exciting her more than anything, anyone else ever had. She dug her fingernails into his back and let go of all coherent thought.

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Lucius sat draped in a deep red robe on the black leather sofa. Through the still open door to the bedchamber, he could see Ginny sprawled in the middle of his bed, the crimson sheet draped over her waist in stark contrast with the pale, creamy skin of one leg peeking out from underneath the satin fabric. Her mouth was swollen from his kisses, light purple bruises starting to form on her neck in the shape of his fingers. Her hair spread around her delicate face on the pillows, a halo for a fallen angel.

There was a sharp rap at the outside door. Lucius looked up, calling out, "Enter."

"Hello, Father." Draco stood draped in the black velvet clothes that signified the Malfoy colors.

"Come in, Draco." His father regarded him with focused eyes, though his body language remained relaxed. Lucius' eyes reminded Draco of an eagle searching for prey. He twirled a snifter of brandy in one hand and was holding a round cigar in the other. Draco crossed the room, his sweeping glance taking in the sleeping Ginny Weasley.

"Well, well, Father, you've been busy."

Lucius smiled, casting a sly look over his shoulder. "Idle hands, my son . . ."

"Built the devil's playground Father – we call it Malfoy Manor."

"Something vexing you son? Your witty repartee is a little edged tonight."

"You fucked Ginny Weasley."

Lucius smirked. "A couple times."

"Fine." Draco crossed his arms over his chest. His expression teased at Lucius' memory.

"You're here for some fatherly advice," Lucius drawled. "I'd recognize that mulishly resigned look any day of the week."

"I find myself . . . at something of a crossroads." Draco conjured himself a snifter of brandy, glancing over as Ginny stirred on the bed, the sheet sliding off more of her than he was comfortable looking at. Quickly he averted his gaze.

"Let me guess. You can't decide what side you're on."

"In a matter of speaking."

"Indecision was always your downfall, son. Learn a lesson from Hamlet and make a bloody choice." Lucius sipped his brandy. "You know, when you set your mind to it, you rose up the ranks of Death Eaters like the son I've always meant you to be."

"Thanks." Draco sniffed.

"When I saw you double-cross Voldemort and the Death Eaters, aligning yourself with the real power in the situation – I think it was the first time I was truly proud of you since the day you were born."

Draco tried not to choke.

"I have confidence that you'll end up on top, Draco." His father put down his cigar. "Malfoy's always do."

Lucius stood, pulled out his wand and transfigured his robe into black slacks and charcoal cashmere sweater. "I'm headed out. Will you be staying here, or at Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts." Draco narrowed his eyes. Whether he would be staying in Gryffindor or Slytherin was yet to be determined. He glanced over at Ginny. "You just going to leave her here?"

"I don't think she's going anywhere." Lucius smiled, tipping his head. "See you later, son."

Draco watched his father leave, then got up and walked into the bedchamber, closing and locking the door behind him.