Prerogative of Power

PREROGATIVE OF POWER

Chapter Four: The Hunter and the Hunted

Allow the morning sun to warm

Your heart when you are young

And let the soft winds of noon

Cool your passion,

But beware the night

For death lurks there

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

--Arthur Rimbaud

At dawn, the wind blowing from the North was freezing cold. It was nearing winter, and as Harry gazed at the grey skies, he shivered in his heavy riding cloak. He was making his way toward the stable when a rough voice spoke out of the mist.

"Stop where you are."

Theodore Nott was standing just inside the stable door, and behind him loomed the scarred Evan Rosier. "Where are you going?" Theodore demanded, frowning.

"Riding," Harry muttered.

"Riding? At this hour and in this wind?"

Despite his mild tone, Harry knew Nott was mocking him, and Harry seethed in silent anger. How dare Nott challenge Harry on his own land! How dare they question him! "I want to be alone," he snapped. He pushed pass the Death Eaters and entered the stable, deliberately ignoring the suspicious looks Rosier and Nott was giving him as he went to his horse, Firebolt.

Rosier remained silent until Harry led his horse out of the stable. "Be careful with Draco's horse."

Go to hell. Harry gritted his teeth as he swung himself up into the saddle. He urged Firebolt forward and the black horse eagerly galloped away.

Here, far from the castle and them, Harry felt the cold even more intensely, but the wind that caught his cloak couldn't numb his mind. He rode onward as his memory threw out pictures: Flint's toast, Hermione's pale face, the scene in the courtyard...

And the way Harry was forced to stand beside Malfoy as he declared the change in his plans.

Harry beat his fist against the pommel of his saddle. He wasn't sure whom he despised more--Malfoy or himself. Last night, when the Death Eater had jeered at him and humiliated him and kissed him, he had actually responded to the bastard. The touch of a fingertip slowly, slowly stroking the side of his face and tracing his lip, the agonizing pleasure of Malfoy's hard body moving against his own, the feel of Malfoy's lips on his all seemed so real even now that Harry involuntarily lifted a hand to touch his mouth and darted his tongue against his fingers. No wonder Malfoy's grey eyes had mocked Harry when he announced their 'betrothal' last night.

"Bloody hell, what is the matter with me?" Harry groaned, and he hated himself even more for it.

He pressed the heel of his leather boots to urge Firebolt even faster. As long as he kept moving, he wouldn't have to think past the wind and the movement of his horse. As long as he kept moving, he wouldn't have to think of him--

Firebolt stumbled and Harry drew rein. From his horse's suddenly uneven gait, he knew Firebolt had thrown a shoe, and Harry realized for the first time how far his unthinking ride had brought them. The wind had gentled and some of the mist had begun to lift; he could see that they'd come close to the outskirts of Gryffindor.

"Sorry, my friend," Harry murmured to Firebolt, stroking his silky mane. "I didn't mean to ride you so hard. You can have a handful of oats and a rest while Seamus shoes you."

The smithy was less than a mile away. When he had ridden halfway there, he heard the ring of a hammer hitting an anvil, and Harry knew that in spite of the early hour, Seamus Finnigan was already working.

"Seamus!" Harry yelled, waving his hand as he neared the young blacksmith. It took Harry three shouts to get Seamus' attention amid the loud, clanking noise, and when he noticed Harry, his grim face broke into a smile.

"Harry!" Seamus greeted as he came running over. "Good morning to you!"

Harry almost snorted. His morning was far from good, but it wasn't Seamus' fault. "Good morning, Seamus. I need your help; Firebolt threw a shoe earlier."

"Ah, that's no problem that can't be fixed."

"Thanks." Harry swung down from Firebolt as Seamus inspected the horse's hoof.

"Hm, you must've driven Firebolt hard to make him lose his shoe," his friend commented.

Harry felt a surge of shame and nodded contritely. "Yes, I did. I'm afraid I didn't have a pleasant morning."

The smile had gone in an instant, replaced by a look of hatred. "It's Malfoy, isn't it? I saw him and his men riding by like he was a king. I wanted to kill him, the murdering bastard."

"Seamus Finnigan!"

A pretty young woman had come out of the cottage behind the smithy. A thick, multi-colored shawl was pulled over her blond hair and shoulders, and she held it close about her as she added, "Don't mind him, Harry. He doesn't know what he's saying."

Seamus flushed, glaring at his cousin, Luna Lovegood, as she made her way toward Harry. Even Harry felt ashamed. For a moment, he was spurred on by Seamus' words, but in face of Luna's common sense, he remembered his responsibility to his people.

"Luna's right, Seamus," Harry said soberly. "Killing Malfoy will do no good. He and his mentor are wizards, and he's got eight men following him and ready to kill for him. If anything happens to Malfoy, they'll burn the roofs over our heads."

"Didn't I tell you, Seamus?" Luna admonished. "Malfoy will only hex you into oblivion if you fight him."

Harry thumped Seamus in the shoulder. "There'll come a time to act. Until then, we must be patient."

The eyes that met Harry's were very serious. "Do you really believe that, Harry?"

"I know it."

"All right." Seamus' smile had returned. Beside him, Luna was also smiling.

"Why don't you come in, Harry? You can have a cup of tea," Luna urged as she ushered Harry inside the cottage. "By the way, I thank you for your words. My cousin's been behaving oddly ever since the Death Eaters rode into Gryffindor. A bit like an animal caught in a trap, he's been."

Harry knew how Seamus felt. He was silent when they entered the modestly furnished cottage, and, desperate for a change of subject, he asked, "How are things in Ravenclaw?"

Luna lived in Ravenclaw, a land on the south of Gryffindor. Unfortunately for her, Ravenclaw was caught in the battles as it was to be found between the two warring nations of Hogwarts and Slytherin. Her father and Seamus' had joined the fighting, and she was told to come to Gryffindor for it was far from the battlegrounds. She'd been living with Seamus ever since.

"Very serious, I imagine. There's still no news from the front line, though from what I've heard, Dumbledore's troops were lying low."

Harry imagined they were. Losing his parents, two of Albus' most gifted disciples, had been an enormous loss on their offense and defense.

"As Seamus says, we saw Malfoy riding the land," she said as Harry took a seat next to the fire. "What does he mean to do with us here at Gryffindor?"

Harry hesitated. "He's leaving us and continuing on to Hangleton."

"Then we'll be rid of him?"

"In a manner of speaking." Harry accepted a cup of honey-sweetened tea and tried to think of some way to explain the bargain he'd made with Malfoy.

"Well, thank Merlin! If he's going to Hangleton, the mountains may fall on him and finish him off!"

Harry chuckled, about to agree, when above the sounds of forge and hammer, he heard hoofbeats. "Listen," he quietly said.

Luna's eyes widened. "Is it Malfoy?"

Harry wondered if Nott and Rosier reported his absence to their leader, and Malfoy had come after him. But when he put down his tea and went to the window to investigate, Harry's blood went cold. A crowd of hooded men was riding towards the cottage, and one of them carried a black banner with the insignia of a serpent and a skull on its center.

The Dark Mark.

"Oh, Merlin," Luna gaped behind him. "More Death Eaters!"

Unbidden, Harry remembered the terrible tales he'd heard about Death Eaters; tales of murder, torture and rape done routinely in Voldemort's name. He also heard that a banner with the Dark Mark was always left after they'd killed or pillaged a village. He should know; he was the one who found his parents' bodies after all.

"What will we do, Harry?"

In light of Luna's dread, Harry's own fear turned to anger. Bugger them if they thought he'd let more Death Eaters infest his land. He walked quickly to the door, flung it open, and went outside with Luna behind him just as the Death Eaters halted near the smithy.

"You, blacksmith," their leader drawled, "we need information."

Though Seamus continued to work as if he hadn't heard the Death Eater, Harry saw his friend tense.

The Death Eater got off his horse, frowning. "Speak when your betters speak to you, boy."

"What do you want here?" Harry flung his question heatedly. Surprised, the Death Eaters looked at him, and one of them snickered. "Looks like the people of Gryffindor have been diminished to children, Macnair."

In the jeering laughter that followed, Harry studied the Death Eater named Macnair. He was a tall, brawny man with dark hair and a black moustache. Insolent eyes studied Harry momentarily, and then shifted to leer at Luna. He could see that the Death Eater wasn't a wizard; he wasn't brandishing a wand.

"What do you want with us?" Harry repeated.

A grin. "We mean to hang someone. A murderer."

Seamus dropped his hammer, and Luna gave a gasp. Harry scowled. "There are no murderers in Gryffindor," he said evenly.

Macnair's smirk widened. "I don't doubt that you're all loyal subjects of Lord Voldemort, but we have it on good information that Sirius Black is hiding nearby."

Harry swore inwardly. They were hunting his father's best friend, the man who'd stood as godfather to him at his christening. Luckily, Sirius was far away with Dumbledore in Hogwarts. Wasn't he? "Your sources are wrong," Harry told Macnair coldly. "He's not here."

"Black set an ambush and killed four of Lord Voldemort's loyal Death Eaters; he should be rotting in the dungeons of Slytherin Castle." Macnair's smile became malicious. "You'll not deny that he was a close friend of James Potter's?"

"Lord James had many friends," Harry proclaimed through gritted teeth, placing an emphasis on his father's title. "But you're wrong to seek Sirius Black here. His land is to the east of Gryffindor."

"Black is no fool. He wouldn't hide on his land or at Hogwarts," one of the other Death Eaters said. "He'd have turned to friends for help."

"Criminals help each other." Macnair licked his lip as if relishing the thought. "James Potter was another murderer who should've died by the headman's axe."

Harry's jaw tightened. "You're talking of better men than you'll ever be," he growled.

"Ah, I thought so. You side with Dumbledore." It was too late before he saw the trap Macnair had laid for him. "I ask again, where is Black?"

"I don't know."

Macnair made a gesture, and his men dismounted. As one of them started toward Harry, Seamus snatched up his hammer and blocked the way. "Damn you all, Death Eaters!"

"Seamus, don't!" Harry shouted, but two other Death Eaters had already seized his friend. Seamus squirmed away, tripped one of them, and hit the other in the face, but a third grabbed at him from behind and clubbed him with the hilt of his sword. Luna, running to help, was hauled back by yet another Death Eater.

With difficulty, Harry held himself still. He knew that Macnair expected--wanted--him to try and help Seamus, too. Striving for calm, he said, "Leave Seamus alone. He's done nothing to you."

Macnair snorted. "You call an attack on Death Eaters nothing?" He turned to Seamus, commanding, "Tell us where Black is, boy, and we'll let you go."

Seamus spat. The glob of spittle landed on Macnair's boot, but the Death Eater didn't lose his smile. Almost pleasantly, he ordered, "Hang him."

Luna screamed and fought to break away form the man who restrained her. Desperately, Harry tried to think of a way to stop them without using his magic; he didn't want to be captured and become another wizard for Voldemort to drain.

"That oak looks strong enough. Bring the rope and a horse."

"Wait! I'll--I'll do anything if you let them go," blurted Harry.

"Tell us where Black is."

"I don't know where he is!"

"And if he did know, he wouldn't tell y--!"

A blow to the mouth silenced the blacksmith, but Harry, seeing his opportunity, lunged at Macnair and grabbed his sword.

"Let him go or I'll kill you." Harry pointed the tip of the sword on Macnair's neck, but the man only gave a harsh laugh at his words.

"Boy, you're but a pretty face. You can't kill!"

Harry shook at the Death Eater's words, willing himself to end the other man's life. But he found that he couldn't, and in that brief hesitation, Macnair was on him in an instant, hitting Harry in the face once, twice, and then again. He dropped the sword as Macnair flung him to the ground.

"Stop it! Don't hurt Harry!" wailed Luna as Macnair poised to give him a kick.

"Harry, eh? Well, never say that I don't oblige women. I'll have you later," Macnair drawled. "First things first, though. Hang the other boy."

A grinning Death Eater led up a horse, and two of them lifted the struggling Seamus onto the creature. Another looped a noose around his neck.

Luna began sobbing, and Harry stood up and wiped his bleeding mouth with an arm. "You're far from Slytherin, Macnair. If you kill him, the people of Gryffindor will retaliate. Behind every rock, every tree, there'll be someone with a crossbow pointed at your heart."

The Death Eaters looked uncertain, and Macnair narrowed his eyes. "Silence the bastard. No, on second thought, I'll give you something to scream about."

Macnair advanced toward Harry with a wicked grin on his face, and Harry had no doubt what was on the Death Eater's mind. Damn. Damn. This was it; he didn't care if they discovered that he was a wizard--

But before Macnair could touch Harry, a powerful force hit the large man, flinging him backwards to the ground. Macnair's pain-filled howl cut through the screaming and the coarse male laughter, and Luna went silent.

"Let them go," a new voice commanded.

Harry slowly released the breath he unconsciously held. He didn't know why, but when he heard Malfoy's deep voice and saw him on his beautiful grey horse a few yards away, Harry felt relieved.

"I said, let them go."

Macnair exploded. "Malfoy! By God, I'll beat the man who listens to him--"

"And I'll curse any who disobey me." Malfoy's ice-grey eyes remained locked on Macnair. "Why, Walden, I didn't know you missed me so much that you'd risk trespassing on my land." He was smirking, but his eyes were cold as ice, and Harry could feel the turbulent magic surrounding him again.

Macnair stared at Malfoy. "Your land?"

Malfoy urged his stallion forward. "Gryffindor was given to me by Lord Voldemort himself, didn't you know?"

A ripple seemed to go through the Death Eaters. The man holding Luna let out a scared groan. "Mordred, it had to be Draco Malfoy's land!" He quickly let go of Luna, who started to run toward her cousin, then stopped to look fearfully at Macnair.

"Unloose the boy," Malfoy ordered.

Harry glanced at Macnair, and he saw that the man's face was almost purple, but he made no protest as his men hastened to obey Malfoy. "Gently," Malfoy added, "unless you wanted to lose your balls."

As Seamus slipped down from the horse, Draco rode over to Harry's side. "Are you all right?"

His eyes were still fixed on McNair, but Draco knew without looking at his betrothed that Harry was hurt. How hurt, he didn't know, but when he heard the hoarse voice that answered him, he glanced at Harry, and wished he hadn't.

The left side of Harry's face was turning purple, and his left eye was swollen shut. He had a cut on his lip, and blood trickled down his chin. But the thing that angered Draco the most was Harry's missing spirit; the radiant courage that constantly annoyed and challenged Draco was almost gone.

It took every ounce of Draco's self-restraint not to curse Macnair, but to do so would endanger everything that he'd worked for. "Explain, Macnair. Why are you on my land, abusing my people?"

Recoiling from the snarl, Macnair attempted bluster. "You have no right to interfere. These rebellious peasants are enemies who refused to answer my questions. The blacksmith attacked me and my men. And that boy almost killed me!"

"Did you expect him to just stand there and watch you kill his friend?"

Harry felt sickened. Blindly, he reached out for support and found a gloved hand gripping his.

"Harry, have they hurt you?" Malfoy was looking at him, and Harry almost snorted because, wasn't it obvious? But he saw the controlled rage in Malfoy's grey eyes, and the urgency on Malfoy's voice surprised him. It was tempting to trust him, to let him take care of things, but Malfoy was also the enemy.

Harry had to remember that.

Shaking his head, Harry pulled away from the warmth of Malfoy's grip.

Draco frowned. Mordred, Harry could be such a prat sometimes. He turned to Macnair again. "Fortunately for you, my betrothed is such an honorable Gryffindor."

"What?!" Seamus cried unbelievingly, and Luna looked at Harry with shock. "Married to a Death Eater!"

As if Seamus hadn't spoken, Draco went on, "I'll say this once. Gryffindor is mine, as is all it holds. Now get off my land."

Macnair licked his lips. "Lord Voldemort's orders--"

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear," Draco cut in, setting Macnair's cloak on fire with a flick of his wand. As Macnair yelped and threw down his flaming cloak, Draco drew his rapier. "The next warning you'll get is six inches of steel in your gut."

"You haven't heard the end of this, Malfoy." Quivering with rage, Macnair mounted his horse. "Lord Voldemort will hear of this!"

Signaling his men, the Death Eaters turned around and rode away.

Draco turned to Harry. "Where is your horse?"

"Firebolt threw a shoe. Seamus was attending to that when they came."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Why did you have to provoke them?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "The hell I provoked them!"

Beside Harry, Seamus snarled, "They didn't need any provoking. All Death Eaters are pigs."

"Oh, Merlin, shut your mouth, Seamus!" Luna turned to Draco. "He didn't mean it, sir."

Draco rolled his eyes. He highly doubted that Finnigan didn't mean his words. He raised a haughty brow at Seamus, and snapped, "Blacksmith, don't you have work to finish?" Sullen and hostile, the young blacksmith returned to his work, but not after sending a glare toward Draco. He ignored Seamus and dismounted, walking to Harry.

"I'll heal you on the way to the castle," he murmured, lifting his hand to gently touch the purple bruise on Harry's face.

Harry flinched. "I don't need your help. I can heal myself," he quietly returned.

Draco gave a snort. "Fine, do what you wish." He walked over to the smithy to inspect Seamus' work.

Luna's eyes followed Malfoy as she hurriedly went to Harry, and whispered, "Harry... about the marriage..."

"It has to be done." Harry's head ached, and he wiped the blood from his mouth again. It was an effort to form coherent words as his head was spinning. "He's the master now. He can do anything to us. Hell, even those Death Eaters were afraid of him."

"But Harry..." Luna sighed.

"You shouldn't fight them; it would only make things worse." Harry broke off as Malfoy led Firebolt up to him.

Draco studied Harry, and when he saw the other boy's pale face, he frowned. "You're in no shape to ride. Just how bad did Macnair hit you?"

"Bad," Harry unthinkingly answered, "but I'll live." He pulled his wand from his back, and started to heal himself. A white light enveloped his body.

"You'll ride with me." Draco's voice brooked no argument. "Despite healing yourself, you'll still feel lightheaded." Harry didn't have the energy to protest as his headache had worsened after using his magic. He didn't even argue when Draco--Malfoy!--put him on Firebolt and mounted behind him after tying the reins of his grey horse on a nearby tree.

Draco put an arm around Harry and urged the stallion forward, prompting the Gryffindor to lean on him. Harry bowed his head as he leaned back; he couldn't bring himself to look Luna and Seamus in the eye.

"You have no business riding alone," Draco said after a moment of silence.

Harry didn't answer. Shoulders hunched and head down, he remained unmoving. Draco felt a momentary jolt of worry.

"You brought it on yourself," Draco continued. "It's no thanks to you that you and your friends weren't harmed."

"Sure," Harry retorted, starting to feel stirrings of anger. "And I supposed the attack is also my fault?"

"If you kept your sentiments to yourself," Draco goaded further, "you'd have escaped a beating."

Snapping, Harry tried to twist away from Draco's hard grip around his waist. "Fuck you, I'll ride by myself."

Much better, Draco thought, relieved. "Luckily for you, Theodore told me that you'd gone riding. From now on, you'll stay in the castle unless properly escorted."

Harry gaped at him. "I'm not some girl who needs protection! You can't control what I do!"

"No?"

His smile provoked Harry even more. "No!"

Firebolt's sudden movement threw Harry back against Draco's chest, and he became aware of Draco's warm breath on his nape and the male scent that filled his lungs. Harry felt enfolded and trapped at the same time.

As the Gryffindor struggled to sit straight and away from him, Draco's arm only tightened. "It's time you woke to certain realities, Harry. War has overshadowed the world. Voldemort is steadily taking over more lands as we speak and it's only a matter of time before he drained enough magic to defeat Dumbledore. He wants Hogwarts badly--he sees it as the ultimate prize to be won."

Harry turned his head and scowled. "And I told you, Albus Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard in the world. He won't be beaten by a weak wizard like Voldemort." Harry winced as his movements caused his head to throb. Sighing, he relented and leaned back against Draco once more. "You're also powerful, Malfoy. Why do you follow Voldemort?"

Surprised by the compliment, Draco placed a kiss on Harry's nape that made the other boy shiver. "Why, thank you, Harry. That's a nice thing coming from another powerful wizard like you. As for my reason..." Draco's eyes hardened. "I need something from him."

Draco buried his face in Harry's unruly hair and raised a finger, trailing along Harry's cut lip back and forth. "Macnair really got you, hm?"

Harry accepted the changed of subject willingly, already forgetting about it as another kiss was placed just below his ear. "Yes," he gasped, opening his mouth to dart his tongue against the fingertip.

God, what is the matter with me?

"Then I promise you one thing, Harry." Draco was murmuring as he started to rain kisses on Harry's jaw line to his opened lips. "I'll have my revenge for what Walden Macnair has done to you."

~~~~~~~~~

On top of a hill half a mile away, Walden Macnair put down his Omniocular as Malfoy and the boy rode away. A smile of triumph was fixed on his face.

It seemed Malfoy had forgotten to tell the Dark Lord that he was marrying a wizard; and not only a wizard, but Lily and James Potter's only son.

He was sure his Lord will be pleased to know of Harry Potter. Very pleased.

Macnair could almost feel Lord Voldemort's approval.

To be continued...