Irredeemable

Landing on the rough stone steps jarred his body painfully. His ribs screamed out in their torment. He gasped for air, blinking rapidly as his vision blackened and almost disintegrated altogether. After a few minutes he felt safe enough to attempt to enter the great castle once more. This time the door opened with no difficulty; it must have been stuck before.

The entryway was devoid of any students. He began to slowly limp in the direction of the Great Hall, hearing the loud chatter of the students within. It must be lunch time. His stomach growled loudly at the thought of food; he had long since lost track of how long it had been since he had eaten. As he made his way towards the Great Hall he seemed to grow stronger with every step, almost as if the magic of Hogwarts was bolstering him and providing him with the extra strength he so desperately needed.

No one noticed him at first as he stepped inside. Then, a few students gasped, as did one of the teachers. As one, the entire occupancy of the Great Hall turned to stare at him, mouths agape.

It was a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard and a quickly receding hairline. He was chewing a dried strip of meat and drinking out of a metal flask. Harry kept to the shadows, circling round and round the man.

He made a small noise and the man looked up. Harry drew back, not wanting the man to see him until he was ready to pounce. The man glanced around warily and began to dig into his pack for something. He pulled out a gun and made sure it was loaded. He clicked off the safety and aimed out into the darkness.

Harry grinned and gathered energy in his powerful hind legs to spring forward. The man must be a Muggle if he had a gun, and Muggles had no defense against werewolves. Harry leapt at the man's back; the man twirled around and quickly fired off two bullets, one missing, but the other one embedding itself deeply in his shoulder. Harry fell several feet short of his goal, whimpering at the pain.

"Black">The bullet was a shot of fire and Harry recognized the feeling instantly. Silver!

The man chuckled deeply and stood up, moving over to Harry. "Thought I was just some damn Muggle, eh?" he asked, eyes lit up with humor. "I know how to deal with your kind. You may think you're powerful, but just the littlest bit of silver and you're less than useless."

Harry growled deep in his throat, ears pricking forward in annoyance. He sensed that Draco was somewhere behind him, waiting for the opportune moment to come and help Harry.

"Just have to tie you up 'til morning, you monster. Hopefully, when you turn back, you'll be someone the Ministry is willing to pay hard galleons for. If not, there's always You-Know-Who. Heard he's looking for werewolves to join his cause." The man turned his back towards Harry and reached for his beaten leather pack and the rope that was strung loosely around it.

As soon as the man's back was turned Draco launched himself forward, pinning the man on the ground. He stayed in his wolf form until the man began to cease struggling, and then he changed back into his normal form.

"You picked the wrong werewolf to shoot," he informed the man. Draco whisked his wand out of one pocked and used it to summon cords to bind the man's hands and feet. "You-Know-Who won't be paying you any money for this werewolf. Instead, I think he'll have some fun with you."

"Who... who the hell are you?" the man demanded, eyes wide and white with fear.

"Draco Malfoy. And the werewolf you just shot is Harry Potter, second in command to the Dark Lord himself." The man paled visibly and stuttered uncontrollably. Once he was taken care of, Draco turned to Harry, who lay panting on the ground. "I don't know much healing magic, Harry, but I can at least get the bullet out. If this guy really intended to turn you over alive, it won't be a lethal dose." Draco removed the bullet and Harry began to lick the wound.

"I... I didn't know who he was!" the man, who had by this time regained his wits, tried to persuade Draco. "I'd never try to kill anyone who worked for You-Know-Who, really." Draco just snorted and cast silencio on the man.

"Even if Voldemort does nothing serious to you, I assure you that I will. No one hurts Harry and escapes unscathed." Draco's silver eyes glinted darkly, promising painful retribution.

Voldemort stared fondly down upon his two proteges. The two boys kneeled respectfully before him. He gestured for Harry to take his smaller throne placed below Voldemort's dais. Harry did so gracefully and Draco moved to stand behind the smaller boy, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders.

Voldemort made a sharp gesture and two hooded and masked Death Eaters left the room. Moments later they were back with the werewolf hunter. The man looked considerably worse for his single night in the dank dunldemort's stronghold. Bruises covered his face and blood dripped from several lacerations on his forehead.

As he sighted the Dark Lord, languidly relaxing on his throne of bones, the man began to gibber incomprehensibly. Voldemort's red eyes grinned in anticipation. Harry smirked at the sight of the man who would have handed him over to the Ministry.

"As I understand it," Voldemort was saying, "you would have turned my top lieutenant into the Ministry of Magic solely for a few galleons. Surely you see why this would cause a problem." The man positively quivered. Draco's lips twitched upwards in amusement.

"I... I didn't know!" the werewolf hunter pleaded, furiously shaking his head.

"Your ignorance will earn you no leniency," Voldemort added caustically, nostrils flaring with excitement. "Your fate has already been decided, but it you who shall bring about your doom." The man's eyes darted about as if searching for an escape. Harry knew from personal experience that there was none to be found. "Come now, it's not that difficult. Either Harry or Draco or I will kill you. Who do you choose?"

The werewolf hunter made his decision based solely on rank. "Dr... Draco," he stammered.

"So be it," the Dark Lord intoned, nodding for Draco to begin.

"I told you, you , that no one hurts Harry and gets away with it!" he shouted, raising his wand and administering curse after curse.

The man's screams filled the echoing chamber for hours.

"Thanks, Draco," Harry said after the bloody corpse of the man was disposed of.

"It was nothing. He deserved all that and more for trying to kill you." Harry gave a sleepy smile, his eyes half-lidded. Despite the fact that he had been given the best medical treatment available (St. Mungo's had been taken over two months ago), having silver in his circulatory system had taken a lot out of him.

They were walking back to their room, Harry dragging his feet and yawning and Draco adjusting his pace to keep with the shorter boy. "You need to get some sleep, Harry."

"No, I'm fine, really," Harry tried to argue, but was cut off immediately by Draco.

"Harry, you were just shot; you need to recover." Harry assented weakly, leaning against Dracthe rest of the walk.

He woke up in a cold gray stone cell. There was no obvious light source, yet the room was somehow lit, almost as if the blocks of stone themselves were glowing. He could not see a door or any other method of exiting the room.

He cradled his head gingerly, feeling around for bruises, of which there seemed to be many. Then, with a panicked realization, he searched his pockets for his wand. It was, of course, gone. Sighing deeply, he leaned his head back against the wall and allowed his shoulders to droop down in despair. Of all the troubles he had managed to land himself in over the years, this was surely the worst.

It was, at the very least, hours before anyone came for him. The space in front of him shimmered and a Death Eater appeared. He stared at the invader in shock for a moment before realizing that the man must have Apparated into the cell.

"Get up," the Death Eater instructed roughly, yanking him to his feet when he did not instantly comply. He hissed in pain as the Death Eater clamped a firm, vise-like hand directly on top of one of his numerous bruises.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. He was not disappointed.

The world disappeared around him, only to quickly reappear, though this room was much different than the one he had started off in. It was a long chamber with high ceilings. At the far end there was a raised dais where Voldemort was seated in a throne made out of- Harry gulped- human bones.

The Death Eater pushed him forward until he was directly in front of the Dark Lord. "Bow!" the Death Eater commanded. He did not moved, and was immediately shoved roughly so that he fell to his knees.