In the Hands of Outlaws

Chapter One

"Raid the area! Make sure all of his boys are dead!"

Harry dropped down from his horse. Bodies lay scattered around him and his men, scouring each and every cabin to make sure the men were put out of their misery. Occasional screams, pleas and gunshots rang through the place, but there was no mercy for traitors. Not with his troup.

Hitching his horse on an old post, Harry headed for a nearby cabin to his left, throwing his weight into the worn door, ramming his shoulder, feeling it shudder. Finally, he heard the sound of splintering wood and burst through the door. The chair that had been leveraging it shut lay broken to pieces in front of him. He wondered why it was barricaded for half a second before spotting it- or rather, him.

He was glaring up at Harry from the floor, bloodied hands cradling what he assumed to be a bullet wound in the lower left side of his abdomen. Blond hair, eerily bright and washed, a clean-shaven face and piercing gray eyes that met his head on. He had to admire his bravado. Not many dared to look him in the eyes.

"Your boys missed," the blond snapped, glaring. "Shitty shot. I could live without medical help if I pleased."

"Yeah, and walk with and awkward hip? That won't get you far as an outlaw."

"Outlaw? These sons of bitches kidnapped me. I'm from the city you uncouth bastard. If you're gonna shoot a man, at least kill him!"

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. "We got ourselves a city slicker? A pretty one, too." Harry knelt in front of the blond, who continued to glare defiantly even as his breathing came out with grunts and he winced with each inhale, his fingers spasming around his wounds.

Harry brought out his hunting knife from his right hip, using the flat of the blade to lift up one side of the blonds jaw, forcing him to tilt his head to the right while the blond sneered, baring pearly white teeth. "Once my father hears of this, he's going to destroy you, and all the outlaws in the country!"

Harry only grinned. "Oh is he now? What's your last name, son?"

"Malfoy," the man growled, spitting in the black-haired boys face. Harry merely rose his brows, collecting the spittle from his cheek and spreading it across the blonds own jaw, watching him squirm and his scowl deepen.

"Malfoy, huh? Well, Malfoy... You're feisty. I quite like you. And seeing how you're not one of his boys, I don't see a reason to kill you."

"Oi, Harry?" A head of red hair came up behind him, holstering his gun. "The camps cleared. I got the boys emptying the shelves. What's next?"

"Pack up the horses. Make sure to grab food- we got another mouth to feed."

"I'm not going back with you vermin-"

Harry spun around, grabbing the blondie by his cheeks, squishing them until his lips puckered. "Oh trust me, you're coming back with us doll. You don't have a choice."

For once, the blond looked slightly scared and Harry smirked. Finally. "Not another prostitute I hope?" Ron spoke, clearing his throat. Harry tilted his head while the blonds eyes widened drastically, actually looking horrified. Harry chuckled, raising a brow at the blond.

"No, I don't think so. Not this one." Harry stood, putting his hunting knife back in its sheath. "Unless he decides he prefers that over being hung upside down from a tree for a few days."

"I'd rather be killed," Draco snarled back. Harry smirked.

"No can do, darlin'. We only kill Morvolo's."

"Is that what these bitches are? What are you then? Inglorious Bastards?"

"Such a filthy tongue on you," Harry teased, hauling the blond up to his feet. "We might have to do something about that."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Because that would he classified information."

"Well what do people call you around here, then?"

"Potter's boys, Potter's gang, Harry's men... Whatever suits their tongue."

"Boss! We're ready to depart!"

"Someone bring me some rope! We've got a boy joining us."

"A Morvolo? Joining us? I hope this is just for information or we may have to retire you," a lanky boy chuckled, tossing Harry some twine he had taken from one of the horses.

"He's not a Morvolo. He's a feisty city boy."

"A city slicker?"

"A real city boy? From like New York? What's he doing all the way up here?" A third head poked out from the doorframe.

"Seamus, Dean, get back to the horses! Ron, come help be with him."

"Touch me and I'll bite you," the blond hissed, squirming away from both of the men.

"You really want to bite flesh that hasn't been washed in months?"

"Just because I'm from the city doesn't mean I'm afraid of a bit of dirt."

Harry laughed. "Dirt? You ain't been out here long, have you sweetheart? I covered in everything from horse shit to blood to deer guts. One touch of the tongue to my skin and you'll drop dead- and we really don't want that now do we? Ron."

Ron picked up the boy, watching as he trashed and fought, but Harry had his arms and legs tied in a second, taking the blond under his arms and lowering him back down to the floor. "It's gonna be a rough ride. How deep you think the bullet went?"

Malfoy grunted with a vague shrugging motion, wincing as he wound was exposed to the hair, hissing in pain through his teeth, his faced contorted in pain.

"Hermione will he able to fix 'em up," Seamus shouted from outside. "If we don't hurry up and leave, Morvolo is gonna send more men out here!"

"His nearest outpost is miles away, ain't no horse can ride that in twenty minutes." Harry stood the blond upright none the less, slinging him over his shoulder.

"Fucking- Bitch- Fuck!" Draco grit hid teeth, writhing in pain as his bullet wound was pressed into Harry's shoulder.

"Sorry doll. It's a thirty minute ride back to basecamp, Hermione'll patch you up all nice and clean."

Carrying him out, Harry frowned before untying the blonds feet. "I'd hate to shoot something so pretty. Make this easy for everyone and don't try to flee, alright doll?"

Harry hoisted the blond up onto the saddle before climbing up himself, sitting in front of him. "Don't call me that," blondie hissed, looking his feet into the stirrups. Harry rolled his eyes.

"So demanding. You can't get your way by being a brat out here." With a sharp kick, the horse spurred into action, letting out a loud whinny before starting up, keeping a fast trotting pace.

"What're you doing out here in the Maine wilderness so far from home?"

"My father sent me out here to scope out land to expand our ranch. Our train got robbed and I got kidnapped because of who my father is. He don't enjoy the likes of you folk."

"Can't say many do. Apologies for my men shooting you. We don't like to harm anyone who ain't Morvolo."

"Well-" there was a grimace in Malfoys tone. "Once I get back to my father, he might think I'm worth something. I did get shot for this damn job."

"You still plan on going back to him? How? Ain't you from the golden city out west?"

"I need to go back. It don't matter how I do it, I'm gonna get back."

Harry snorted.

"Good luck sweetheart. Ain't nothing but Morvolo from here to their. You're lucky you didn't get jacked up sooner."