Pairing: H/D, Hr/SS, L/G (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. Not intended for underage readers.
A/N's: So, let me know how you like this, and if you have any speculations about what's about to happen. I hope this all makes sense. And, I'm serious about the rating. We're definitely up to the adult content!
Peace, love and a couple of sarcastic snakes!
Chapter Title: Craziest, Most Dangerous, Reckless, Incredibly Idiotic
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Severus was awoken by the feeling of a small hand grasping his shoulder. He sat up, startled but holding perfectly still. Hermione was not beside him anymore, he didn't have to reach for her to know that. The dilution of her sweet scent was enough to make it clear. He heard a dull thud and rushed from the bed, out into the common room. Hermione lay crumpled on the floor, her blue robe pooling around her.
"Hermione!" He knelt at her side, gathering her little body into his arms, smoothing her hair back from her face, and feeling her pulse fluttering lightly.
She moaned a little and turned into his embrace, rubbing her face sleepily against his chest. "Mmmm . . . Severus?"
"I'm here, luv." He shifted his arm to support her back and pulled her into a sitting position, his arms staying around her for support. "What happened?"
"I fainted . . . and I dreamed . . . or no . . . I was awake . . . I think."
"I think you hit your head. You might have a concussion. Let's take you to the Hospital Wing." He began to gather her weight fully to him, when she tugged impatiently on his sleeve.
"I'm fine." She frowned, shaking her head a little. "I think I had a . . . a vision."
Severus stared at her, blinking in confusion. "I thought you didn't believe in the divinatory arts?"
"I don't." Hermione said firmly, wrinkling her nose at the thought. "But whatever just happened to me wasn't a dream."
Slowly, Severus climbed to his feet, gently helping her up as well and guiding her over to the couch, where he wrapped her up in the fuzzy blanket that was draped over the back. "How can you be so sure?"
Hermione watched him summon a house elf for some tea and toast, considering his question. "For one, I was awake. For two, it felt real, vivid, like I had accidentally Apparated somewhere. My dreams are never like that. My dreams are . . ." Her face darkened. "Dark, cold and vague, like emotional shadows of reality."
Snape nodded, remaining silent as the house elf returned with his requested refreshments. He knew that usually when Hermione dreamt, she had nightmares of the war. He waited until the house elf had deposited the tea tray on a small table to ask, "So, what did you see in this – vision?"
Hermione carefully repeated the events of she had witnessed, in her typical detailed way. Snape listened carefully, as he stared into the depths of his tea cup, trying to picture what she was describing. He remembered the feel of a hand on his shoulder, waking him up just before he heard Hermione hit the ground.
Dawn was creeping up, poking gilded fingers through the windows to tickle the shadows of the room by the time she had finished speaking. Severus stood, a grim look about his mouth. "Do you feel ok, now?"
"Yes, I'm fine. A little shaken, and confused, but fine," Hermione assured him.
"Why don't you go get dressed, while I contact the Headmaster? Perhaps Albus can shed some light on all this." Snape watched her go, his frown growing deeper. He might have dismissed this all as a crazy dream, if it had been anybody but Hermione, with her complete distaste for Divination, claiming to have had a vision. And if it truly was a vision of the Founders...Severus shuddered. He wasn't that fond of Divination himself – he certainly wasn't the type to trust in the less-than-exact magical art, but there was a shard of ice tracing shivers down his spine, and one thing he had learned to trust was his own instincts. And instinctively, he knew that there was something terribly, terribly wrong with the world right now.
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Ginny closed the book, letting the heavy tome carry her hands to her lap. She couldn't feel her feet anymore; they had fallen asleep curled beneath her body. She leaned back, letting her head rest against the bookshelf. Feeling a little hazy, she had just noticed that the shower was off when a hand closed around the back of her neck, the long, elegant fingers resting against her pulse.
"Catching up on a little recreational reading, were we?" Lucius purred dangerously.
Turning her head slightly in his firm grasp, Ginny's eyes widened in shock as she took in the tall, slightly damp blond man behind her. "Oh, I hadn't realized you were out of the shower yet."
"Obviously." His
face was carefully blank. "Did you find what you were looking for,
my dear?"
"Just looking for a little something to pass the
time," she returned evenly, her face betraying no fear, though
inwardly a tremor was running through her. She willed her fingers not
to shake as he plucked the leather bound book from her numb hands.
"I'm not sure such a book is suitable for a young Weasley like yourself."
"Why, do you have the fifteen year old self of some other dark lord hidden in there?" She batted her lashes at him.
His lips twitched. "No, I do not."
"Instructions on how to do so?"
"No."
"Then what's so special about that book? I can read – was there something else required to discover its contents?"
"I suppose not."
"Then perhaps you just don't like me touching your stuff?" Ginny licked her lips. "Is that it, Lucius? Are you that territorial?"
"Perhaps." His eyes darkened with interest at her flirtatiously seductive tone.
"I think I kind of like that about you," she said in a breathless voice. "Too bad you don't get that territorial over me."
"I didn't realize that was something you were looking for." Lucius tightened his grasp on her neck. "My apologies – I didn't mean to be so remiss."
"Not that it wasn't sweet – you offering me to your son like that. It's nice to see a family that shares." Her eyes flashed. "But I do have some standards."
"I see. That's my son you're talking about not meeting your standards," He warned lightly, setting the book aside on the carpet, where it magically whisked itself back to the proper shelf.
"And that was my body you tried to give him," she shot back.
"No – as we just discussed. This," he paused to grasp her wrists tightly in each hand. "Is my body. To do with as I please."
"You think so." Ginny pulled herself lightly from his grip, not bothering to rise. "But you think so because I let you. Allow me to correct that assumption."
Lucius watched her with a mix of curiosity and amusement in his slate grey eyes. She moved to her knees, still staring up at him, a look of wide-eyed innocence in her eyes. He saw the tip of her wand a second before she spoke, but not quite soon enough.
"Petrificus Totalus." Ginny stood, her eyes not leaving the face of the man frozen before her. She twirled her wand through her fingers as she slowly circled him. "My body is my own to play with."
With a flick of her wand, Ginny levitated Lucius onto the bed, and secured his hands with the velvet-lined manacles already secured to the bedposts. "And while your bed is quite the playground, and I share – ," she paused to climb onto the bed between his legs, "very well with others, you will not choose who those others are. I am not a party favor to be passed around your dubious social circle."
She set the tip of her wand against his chin. "Finite Incatatum."
Lucius stretched his limbs experimentally, testing the reach of his mobility in the restraints. He nodded his head at her in a manner she took to be impressed.
"Do you understand?" Ginny shrugged her shoulders, letting Lucius' robe slip off her body and pool around her knees in a bright red puddle.
"I do," he replied silkily, something akin to pride in his tone. Ginny glared at him, and pulled the belt from the discarded robe on the floor with a flourish. Being careful to brush the tips of her breasts over his chest as she did so, Ginny climbed astride Lucius' hips and wrapped the wide terry cloth belt around his eyes, tying it in the back with a vicious yank.
"Good," she whispered in his ear. "Then you still get to play."
Ginny pressed her lips firmly to his for a second, then let them trail down his chin, neck and slowly down his chest. She let the ends of her crimson hair slide over his skin. Her sharp nails scratched over the protruding bumps of his hip bones, brushing her open mouth over his navel. His muscles jumped involuntarily and she laughed huskily. Reaching out, Ginny wrapped her pale, delicate hand around the rock hard length of his cock, a wide smirk on her face as the pulsing erection jumped and grew in her grasp.
"You do still want to play, don't you, Lucius?" She asked sweetly, softly stroking him.
"Yes," he hissed, bucking his hips lightly.
"Good." Ginny smiled again and scooted further down the bed so that she knelt between his legs once more. She brought her lips close to his cock, still steadily stroking him. She breathed her next words over the blushing head. "Do you still want me?"
"Yes." He was gritting his teeth, and yet there was still the trace of the same superior smirk on his face. Ginny scowled, she'd have to try harder.
"Good." She slowly took his full length into her mouth, until her lips were around the base of his cock, then eased back up, feeling him buck and gasp beneath her. Ginny placed her hands on Lucius's chest, shifting her weight forward to straddle his hips, reaching down to adjust his erection to fit against her, rubbing her hips up and down to slide his cock against her slick, wet folds.
"How badly do you want me?" Ginny grasped his hard shaft and began rubbing the soft head of it against her clit, gasping a little herself as a sweet ache filled her with liquid heat.
"Badly," he confessed, his hips shifting, arms straining now against their restraints.
"What will you give me in return?" She asked, following the question with a little moan.
"I didn't realize that you expected payment." Lucius smirked again, though the expression was now dripping with tension and frustration. "Were you hoping for a few galleons on the bedside table, or was there something specific you wanted?"
"That wasn't nice, Lucius. You inferred that I'm a prostitute." Ginny balanced herself carefully, and reached behind herself with her free hand to wrap her fingers around his balls, squeezing just a touch too roughly. "Say you're sorry."
Lucius groaned aloud. "M-my apologies."
Ginny smiled. "That's better." She positioned the head of his cock at her soaking entrance. "I was just looking for a small token of your appreciation. A sign that you don't take my body for granted. You understand?"
"I understand," he panted.
"So, I did have something in mind."
"Yes?"
"Good answer," she chuckled. Her legs were started to shake from holding her crouched position. "I want to be able to read your books. Whenever I want."
"No."
"No?" Her hand tightened around his cock, pumping him slowly. "Are you sure?"
"Not . . . not all of them." He wet his lips.
"Not all of them? Ah, Lucius. You don't have naughty books that you're not supposed to, do you?" She slowly let just the head of his penis sink into her.
"Just a few," he moaned.
"But I can read all of the rest?" She asked teasingly.
"Yes."
Ginny smirked, but before the expression fully rolled across her lips, she felt his hands come down hard on her hips. Ginny gasped, wondering how he had gotten free. Briefly it occurred to her that the chains on his bed probably responded to his commands. His fingers digging deeply into her skin, Lucius forced her body downwards, impaling the pale beauty on his hard cock, enjoying the shriek she let out.
Tearing the robe belt from his eyes, Lucius swiftly rolled them over, pinning her hands to the mattress above her head as his body trapped hers beneath it. He snarled low in the back of his throat.
"Uh-oh," she bit her lip, shyly. "I'm in trouble."
"Yes, you are," he replied, trying to keep his tone as serious as possible.
"I've been a bad, bad girl." She rolled her hips against his, squeezing her pussy muscles around his steely length.
"I'll think of some way to punish you." He slowly thrust in and out of her, resisting the urge to pound her into the mattress until she screamed.
"I can't wait." Her eyes twinkled with wicked mischief as she moved against him, her mouth curved with sinful glee. When she licked her lips as she continued to move against him, he lost control. Thrusting wildly into her, he let go of her hands to reach underneath her. His fingers wrapped around her hips, pressing into her ass as he pumped his cock hard into the little redhead.
Laughing viciously, she met every thrust of his hips, whispering in his ear, urging him on, taunting him. "Oh, yeah. Come on, Malfoy, you can fuck me harder than that! Is that all you got? Oh . . . oh . . . oh, yeah!"
"You like that, do you?" He panted against her head.
"Yes!"
"You want to come?"
"Yes, oh – yes!"
"Beg." He stilled his hips and she nearly screamed in frustration.
"Bastard!"
"That's not very nice!" He swiveled his hips and paused again.
"Please!!"
"Please, what?"
"Please let me come?" Her hips gyrated wildly as she tried to get the friction she needed.
"Please let me come, what?" He slid his other hand across her hips, and down to her dripping center, brushing softly over her clit. His eyes told her what he wanted.
"Please let me come . . . Master!"
"Good girl."
He freed one hand to lay across her mouth, silencing the comments as he fiercely thrust, until her muffled moans grew in intensity, and her whole body tensed and relaxed. As the walls of her pussy convulsed around him, Lucius came hard inside her, panting for breath. He lowered his sweaty forehead to rest against hers for a second, before pulling back to look at her. He cupped her face and stared deeply into her eyes as if searching for something. "How'd you like that?"
Ginny smiled. "Can we do it again?"
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"All three of us?" Draco frowned. "I really wasn't looking for a job . . . what with being extremely wealthy and all that."
Dumbledore looked at him wordlessly. When Draco just returned his stare with a raised brow, Harry kicked him under the table, Bane ducking his head to hold back his laughter.
"But when you present such a strong argument, perhaps I could make the time," Draco conceded.
"And just what position were you going to offer me?" Bane asked, shrewdly. "Hopefully something that doesn't have me trying to kill myself."
Harry resisted the urge to defend the old Headmaster as he realized that he agreed with Bane's sentiment. Dumbledore had sent Harry to essentially kill himself, which left Harry with two explanations to choose from. One, Dumbledore was wrong – and thus fallible, and could not be trusted. Or two, Dumbledore had known the truth, and, assuming that Harry would become the next Dark Lord, had sent him to destroy himself, and thus could not be trusted. He turned expectant eyes on Dumbledore.
"Actually, it does." Dumbledore smiled, though the customary twinkle was missing from his blue eyes. "I would like for the two of you to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Who better to teach dueling than a teacher who can literally duel himself."
"No," Harry said.
"I'm sorry?" Albus looked flustered. Draco peered at the elder wizard, never having seen the man show surprise.
"No, I won't do it." Harry sat back, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Fine. You go find somewhere else to live, and I'll teach." Bane mirrored Harry's position.
"I don't think so. You may be me, but you're dangerous, and possibly unhinged. You should not be allowed around children," Harry argued.
"Well then, you'll just have to stay here and keep me in line, won't you?" Bane bit back. "Ever the long-suffering hero, eh Harry?"
"And you're not?" Harry scoffed.
"No," Bane said thoughtfully. "I don't think I am."
"Anyway, we can't teach dueling, if one of us gets hit by a spell…" Harry broke off. He knew that rumors of the bounty hunter had spread across the Wizarding World, but wasn't sure how much Dumbledore actually knew about his situation.
"It'll hit the students," Draco filled in the blank. "Oh. That would probably be bad."
"Yeah, because no students have ever gotten hit by a stray curse in Defense Against the Dark Arts class," Bane scoffed.
"If that is truly your concern, Mr. Potter, I will erect a barrier to protect the students during your demonstrations, though I would caution you not to cast anything too…graphic."
"Won't matter," the three young men across from him replied in unison.
"How's that?"
Each opened their mouth to explain it and stopped at the same time. Harry's eyes met Bane's, an identical brow rising on each of their faces, followed by a feral grin.
"Bloody hell – don't even think about it!" Draco leapt out of his chair, moving to stand partially behind Dumbledore's chair. Before the Headmaster could inquire as to what was going on, both Harry's had pulled their wands and were now pointing them menacingly at each other.
"Mr. Potter – Potters! Stop this at once!" Dumbledore cried, alarmed. "What are you doing?"
"Finding out what would happen," Draco informed him darkly. The spells started flying, and Draco drug the older wizard back towards the door, casting a protective shield around them as the curses ricocheted off the walls of the room, scorching whatever they touched.
"How did you know they were going to do that, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked.
"Simple. When trying to figure out what Potter's going to do next, I think of the craziest, most dangerous, reckless, incredibly idiotic thing one could do in the situation, and that's the one that Potter will choose. Every time."
Finally, just when Draco thought he wasn't going to be able to hold the shield any longer, both dueling wizards stopped, saluted each other with their wands and tucked them back in their pockets, waving a hand that dissolved the remaining bouncing spells.
Draco moved hesitantly back to the table. "Ok, psychos, are we done now?"
"Yes." The smug satisfaction was clear on the twin faces.
Dumbledore sat down, clearing his throat. "Well, that was enlightening at the very least."
"So, your scheme to kill us wouldn't have worked after all," Bane surmised. "Might have killed the whole school, actually."
Dumbledore was no longer smiling, his face grave, but still kind. "I think you are right, Mr. . . . Black, is it?"
"Yes, sir." His tone was clearly mocking.
"Hey – here's a question." Draco leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table. "How'd you both get wands?"
"I don't know, I just had it with me when I woke up." Harry frowned, taking his wand back out from his pocket. "It's the same one I've always had."
"And you?" Dumbledore looked at Bane in curiosity.
"I don't know…I found it. It was in my pocket when I woke up in the Slytherin Common Room."
"And how did you arrive in the Common Room, Mr. Black?" Albus asked.
"Unconscious." Bane removed the wand from his pocket once more.
"Is it Voldemort's?" Harry asked, peering over his doppelganger's shoulder.
"No, I broke that one when…" Bane bit off what he was about to say, not quite sure why he felt the urge to protect Lucius' secret existence. "When I woke up, it was on the table. I broke it."
"May I see it?" Dumbledore asked politely.
"Sure." Bane shrugged, but his eyes remained fixed on the older wizard as he took the wand.
Pulling out his own wand, Dumbledore whispered a few incantations as he ran the tip of his wand up and down Bane's. "Well, it's very old. I haven't seen one like it outside of a museum."
Bane's eyes fixed on the Headmaster's wand, his heart pounding furiously for some reason. A voice that was not quite his own whispered through his head, Mine. He shook himself, but the image of Dumbledore's wand was burned in his mind. Where had he seen that wand before…why did it seem so important?
"Still in pretty good shape, though," Harry commented.
Bane cleared his throat. Dumbledore met his eyes, his fingers curling tightly around both wands for a second.
Harry tensed, looking steadily at Dumbledore. "You should give that back now."
"Of course, of course," the Headmaster said, smiling slightly as he passed Bane's wand back to him. "I just can't get over the feeling that I've seen it somewhere before…ah well, the memory of an old man."
Draco looked between the three wizards, feeling the unspoken tension in the room continue to grow. "And what position would you like me to take?"
"I would like for you to help Ms. Granger with Divination," Dumbledore replied gently, adding, "And I'm sure you could also assist in Defense against the Dark Arts every now and then."
"What?" Harry sat up straight, frowning. "I must have heard you wrong. Why in the name of Merlin's great grey beard would Hermione agree to teach Divination?"
"Well, she hasn't yet. But I suspect she's going to accept when I speak to her." The twinkle came back into Dumbledore's eyes. "Call it a hunch."
"So what do we do now?" Harry asked, his voice tired.
"Well, I think we should start by figuring out exactly how you two were split apart . . . and how we go about putting you back together."
"And who says we want that?" Bane asked.
"You don't?" Harry turned surprised eyes on his doppelganger.
"You do?" Bane parried.
Both Harry's sat there, silently staring at each other, brows furrowed in deep thought.
"One thing at a time, gentlemn," Dumbledore said softly. "Let us start by figuring out what happened, before we decide how and indeed, if the situation should be remedied."
"Fine," they replied in unison.
"And how do we go about that?" Draco asked.
"That's an excellent question, Mr. Malfoy, and leads me into a small request I have to ask of Mr. Black and Mr. Potter, as official faculty members." Dumbledore steepled his hands, resting his elbows on the table. "There is a set of twins, Piper and Prophet Vates, who are to attend Hogwarts this fall. I think it is imperative that we bring them to school early, and fully ensure their safe arrival."
"New heroes in training?" Draco asked. "Scarred foreheads, inflated egos and big important destinies all foretold in a prophecy types?"
Harry and Bane scowled angrily at him.
"Not quite, Mr. Malfoy. But you will see for yourself when they arrive." Dumbledore turned back to the two scowling wizards. "I would like for you to retrieve them this afternoon."
"And why aren't I going?" Draco asked, imperiously.
"Because the Vates children will like them better." Dumbledore smiled, taking in the two Harry's. "They look like twins."
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TBC . . .