Title: Bounty Hunter II: Black and White
Author: Snippy of Snippy and Snarky
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.
A/N's: This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful, amazing, beautiful and awesome beta – you rock, babe!
Peace, love and a couple of sarcastic snakes!
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Ginny looked around the room, finding the other side of Lucius' bed empty. She still wasn't sure why she had come last night. Maybe it was the incident with Draco, the reminder of it at the Quidditch Game, or the weird dance during the ball. Being around Draco made Ginny feel unclean.
So why had she come to Lucius? There was a time not long ago when she would have thought that climbing into bed with a Malfoy would be a sure way to just get more yuck on you, not take it off. But there was something . . . not cleansing, more like purifying, about being with Lucius. Having sex with him was like burning down a dirty house to clean it. It felt . . . punitive and good.
Ginny frowned, sitting up and pulling her knees close to her chest. There was something missing from her interaction with Lucius though. It was leaving her restless and unsatisfied. Not physically, but . . . and then it came to her, full blown epiphany. She didn't want to be possessed by power, she wanted to possess power. There was the seduction.
Harry must have had this epiphany before he went Bounty Hunter, Ginny realized. Tired of being a victim, tired of being hurt, of being strong enough to "take it". Screw taking it. Power was about being able to give it. Lucius had certainly sounded like he understood her attraction to power that first night, but he had misunderstood something. Riddle had fascinated her, not just because she felt overwhelmed and possessed by his power, dark though it might be, but because he had shared it with her. He had given her the power to open the Chamber of Secrets, had concealed her and protected her, given her his power at times, though not the means to control it.
In that instant, Ginny knew that her hunger had little to do with a need to be punished. She hungered to prove herself. She wanted to learn. She wanted to be the thing that scared people in the night, instead of being the scared one. Tom had given her a taste of the power. Now she wanted the control. And of course, this want was where the need to be punished came in – she felt guilty about wanting the power. However, as Lucius had so kindly provided the punishment, she could cleanse her guilt and move on with other pursuits.
Looking around Lucius' private chambers with new eyes, she realized that she had positioned herself perfectly for her new quest. Her eyes greedily drank in Lucius' many, many bookshelves, filled with titles the ministry should probably be alerted about. Perfect.
Listening for the sound of the shower, Ginny hopped out of bed, wrapped herself in Lucius' bathrobe, so he would call for her and it when he got out, and began to peruse the books before her. She, unlike her brothers, had always been a quick study and a good learner. Perhaps it was time to become a student again.
Choosing a black leather volume from the shelf, she flipped it open, running a finger idly down the page she had randomly chosen. She felt a shiver of power run through her fingers up her arm and down the spine. She sank to the floor and began to read, unaware of the blackness that was sweeping through her blood.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Albus Dumbledore stared deeply into the flames in the fireplace, considering the letter that was before him. The letter was from the most prominent seer that the world had ever known – though he was now presumed dead by most wizards. Dumbledore had called in a rather large favor to ascertain the answers he needed.
Tom Riddle was dead. Voldemort had ceased to exist. Dumbledore could count on one hand the number of times that he had been wrong, but he still took the moment with grace. He needed to tell Harry. And the other Harry. Perhaps it was time he paid a visit to Slytherin.
Standing, he once again picked up the scroll that listed the incoming Hogwarts' students. The school had been closed for awhile, so the list was longer than usual, listing students too old to be in their first year of magical courses. He would have to arrange a special team of teachers to take on this new challenge. His sharp eyes focused once more on the two names that had been on his mind since they appeared.
Ms. Piper Vates.
Mr. Prophet Vates.
Albus thoughtfully stroked his beard. Yes, it was time to talk to the two Harry's.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
I think you've forgotten, Potter. I don't play nice. And neither do you.
The words echoed in Harry's head, bringing an answering smirk to his face. "I don't play at all."
Bane gazed at him with appraising eyes. It was rather disconcerting for Harry watching the other version of himself. Bane was a little creepy. He idly wondered if that was how the other Aurors had felt about the Bounty Hunter. Was Bane what had scared them – the dark side of Harry? Or was he something more sinister than that?
"Is that so?" Draco drawled. "Do we get some action then, or shall we just continue with the witty repartee? Because I'm running out of cliché's to throw the word 'play' into."
Harry stalked back across the room, reaching out to grasp Draco's shirt collar and hauling him against his body. Draco was once again taken aback by how strong Harry had become. Harry's mouth descended on the blond's, taking his lips in a vicious kiss.
Bane's fists clenched in anger, but before he could take action, there was a loud pop followed by a purposeful throat clearing.
"Ah, good you're all here. Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but there are pressing matters to be dealt with. I didn't feel like they could wait until morning." Albus Dumbledore stood in the middle of the common room, his eyes twinkling.
"Well, that was unexpected," Draco drawled as Harry released him.
Bane stared at Hogwarts' Headmaster, with something akin to fear churning in his stomach. His lips tightened and he said nothing.
Harry regarded the older man, anger still burning in his eyes. "You lied to me."
"I never lied to you, Harry." Albus' eyes were kind. "I was simply mistaken. Surely you've been mistaken before."
"He's not Voldemort," Harry added mulishly.
"I know." Dumbledore drew his wand and conjured a table topped with a steaming kettle, cups and biscuits. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss, the four of us."
Suspicion in their eyes, the three men sat at the round table, each guarding their emotions carefully.
"What is this all about?" Draco asked, ignoring his identical companions who seemed content to remain silent and see what happened.
"The new year at Hogwarts is about to begin, and I would like to offer all three of you a position." Dumbledore smiled. "I think this is going to be a very revealing year."
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Hermione climbed out of the warm bed, leaving Severus peacefully sleeping. She plucked her wand from beneath her pillow and tucked it into the pocket of the cobalt blue velvet robe pooled on the floor, wrapping herself in the garment. She couldn't explain the restlessness rolling through her. Something in the wind was changing. She walked out of the bedroom and into the common room of the Head of Ravenclaw's apartment, where she and Severus had set up house. He had no desire to relive the bad memories he had associated with Slytherin, nor she the desire to deal with the ghosts of the past that haunted Gryffindor Tower where she could still feel Ron's presence so strongly, and since Severus had flatly refused to inhabit Hufflepuff, they had chosen Ravenclaw. A quick flick of her wand lit the fire, lending the room a warm glow.
Hermione moved to the window, taking in the milky pools of moonlight sliding over the grounds. A sultry wind was howling through the castle. She gripped the windowsill as a wave of dizziness overtook her, and she began to shake. A loud rushing sound pounded through her ears and the world went black for a second.
When her vision cleared, she was still in the Ravenclaw apartment, but she could tell that something had changed. The moon was gone. Turning, she found the furnishings of the room to be changed. Seated in a wing backed chair by the fire sat a woman, wearing midnight blue robes. Her dark hair fell in perfect, shiny curls around her heart-shaped face. Cinnamon eyes burned with intelligence in her pale face. In one elegant hand she clutched a hot cup of something. Her fingers were trembling.
The door opened, and a tall dark haired man walked into the room. Something about the man reminded Hermione of the pictures she had seen of young Tom Riddle, with his black hair and black eyes, handsome face unsmiling.
"Rowena," the man said in greeting, moving to sit on the edge opposite the dark-haired woman.
"Salazar," she replied in greeting. "How is Helga?"
"The same," he said shortly. "We have to do something. He must be stopped."
Rowena visible shuddered. "I know . . . but she'll never let us—"
"We can't consider her feelings anymore, his hold on her is too strong, and I fear, unnatural."
"What are you saying?" Her eyes were shrewd, her face calm despite the trembling that had increased.
"He must be killed." The man that Hermione could only assume was Salazar Slytherin, did not waver at Rowena's shocked reaction. "I have spoken with Godric. He agrees."
"I see." Rowena took a sip of her cup. "And if he cannot be killed?"
"You think –"
"I know. We cannot kill him." She spoke with conviction. Hermione could feel a shiver building insider her, but could not move, could not speak. She was no more able to participate in the scene before her than a ghost could participate in a Hogwarts' feast.
"Then we use the time-turner." Salazar sat back. "I had hoped it would not come to that."
"Where do we send him?" Rowena's laugh was humorless. "Which of our children do we give this affliction to?"
"The strongest, smartest that we can find." Salazar stood, crossing the distance between the two chairs and offering Rowena a hand. She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet and into his arms. "We have no choice."
Rowena laid her head on Salazar's shoulder, accepting his embrace. "And what about Helga?"
"I have a plan." Salazar's eyes flashed dangerously. "But I will need your help."
"Of course." Rowena pulled back just far enough to set her forehead against his. "As always, I am at your service."
"I know you are," Salazar breathed the words into her hair. "For now."
"Salazar . . ."
"Shh . . . it's ok." He stepped away from her, swallowing visibly. "Let's go."
"Now?"
A ghost of a smile played at Salazar's lips, and the two started to fade from Hermione's sight, leaving Slytherin's last words to sound in an empty room once more restored to the present, as Hermione slid to the floor in a dead faint.
"Carpe Noctem, Rowena."
TBC . . .