In the Hands of Outlaws

Chapter Two

The ride was relatively short for Draco, considering he had a literal bullet lodged in his side and he kept blinking in and out of consciousness.

For Harry, it seemed to take ages. Morvolo doesn't kidnap for no reason. His father disliking outlaws like the rest of the world certainly wasn't a reason worthy of kidnapping the boy. Malfoy wasn't on a cargo train either- it was a passenger train, so they were after him specifically. Other than a sharp tongue and pretty face, Harry didn't know what the boy would be worth, or why Morvolo would take an interest in him.

"Kid?"

"I'm twenty-four, not a kid."

"Whatever blondie. How long were you with them?"

"A few days. I was in that cabin until I heard gunfire. I tried to sneak around the back, but..."

"Right."

"I got shot."

"I know."

"But one of your moronic-"

"Trust me, I've known you for forty minutes and you've brought it up like seventy times darling. I already apologized. Hermione will patch you up nicely- or I could drop you off this horse and let the hawks pick you apart and the maggots eat you alive. Is that preferable?"

Harry could feel Malfoy tense against him, feeling the shudder that followed the chills in his spine. Harry laughed, loud and without remorse into the blonds ear, rearing up his horse. "That's what I thought."

Before long, they had pulled into their camp down on the edge of a valley, where women, men and a few children ran around. "It's a whole town of bandits, thieves and murderers. Great."

"You'll do your best to watch your tongue around here. I may like your fiery spirit, but the men around here won't hesitate to gut you like a fish."

And upon looking around, Draco believed him. Large rugged men, covered with grime, scars and tattoos, guns and weapons strapped to every square inch of broad body they had. "Shit," Draco mumbled, his hands still tied behind his back so that his fingers brushed the sack attached to the saddle when he curled them into fists.

"What's your name, blondie?" Harry asked casually. Draco's eyes flickered to the knife strapped to his thigh, remembering the fear he felt earlier when it was pressed against his throat. He didn't want to experience that again. "Draco. My name is Draco Malfoy."

"Well, Draco Malfoy," Harry dropped off his horse, grunting when he hit the ground. "Welcome to camp."

"Harry! Glad to see you made it back safely. The spirits always guided you well. Oh, who's this?"

The blond girl with wide, mysterious blue eyes tilted away to gaze at Draco. She was dressed in native clothing, seemingly all made out of hide with feathers carefully perched in various locations in her hair.

"This is Draco Malfoy. He was kidnapped by the Morvolos off a train."

"Pleasure to meet you, Draco! My name is Luna." She held a hand out and Draco stared awkwardly at his hands, bound behind his back before looking at hers, which were soaked with red. He took a step back, swallowing hard, accidentally running into someone else and jumping with an undignified squeak, seeing the redhead that had shot him. He sneered.

"Nice shot, dipshit."

"It's hard to shoot a snake," he shot back. "I'm keeping my eyes on you, Draco Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "As will everyone else. The only difference is I'm nearly certain you're the worst shot."

Harry tutted, bracing a hand on Draco's waist, chuckling when he twisted away with a glare. "Play nice now, we've got a lot of stuff to do around here and you two bickering isn't going to help."

"I don't see why we're keeping him, I mean, he could be a Morvolo spy!"

Harry snorted. "This one? He probably couldn't lift a bale of hay without collapsing. Morvolo likes his men strong. This is the average, posh, I'm going to drink tea on my train city boy."

"Fuck off," Draco growled, gnashing his teeth while Harry laughed.

"But a spy Harry, they're supposed to look inconspicuous," a woman cut in, long brown hair, intense brown eyes and tanned skin.

"Exactly! Thanks 'Mione," Ron said, smirking victoriously at Harry.

"But," she continued, making Ron's smile drop. "You said he was kidnapped off a train? That means they were looking for him. He could be of high value, and we can't let them have that advantage over us. It's better we keep him close. Now is there a reason this poor boy is still on his feet with a bullet wound?"

With a bit of help, Draco hobbled over to a small cloth tent that smelled strongly of blood and alcohol and was laid across a small cot that dug into his back, instructed to remove his shirt by Harry. He looked at Hermione- he didn't quite trust Harry. He seemed like a pervert. She nodded and he sighed, removing his expensive hand tailored shirt that, at some point, had been white.

"Alright, Draco was it? Draco Malfoy? This is going to hurt a bit." Draco felt faint when he saw the girl bring out a knife that looked sharper than a razor. "It's best you don't look- especially for the firs' one."

"Don't worry doll, Hermione's the best with bullet wounds." Harry gave Draco's cheek two short pats. "Just be lucky I didn't do it. Healing ain't exactly my forte."

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "You're intolerable, Harry."

There was a fire on him, Draco was sure of it. His lower abdomen had to have been on fire with how much it burned- like a white hot iron searing into his flesh. Except there wasn't any fire, just a blade digging into his wound. He hissed, throwing his head back and fisting the sides of the cot so hard his fingers went numb. He grit his teeth, his hips jerking in attempt to get away from the pain.

"Harry?" The soft female voice prompted, and Harry seemed to startle slightly before moving.

With a grunt, Draco felt hands at his hips, holding him down so he couldn't thrash, no matter how hard he tried to get away from the pain. "Stop moving doll. I know it hurts but you're gonna make Mione puncture something you need to live."

He took a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself, trying to relax. Then the blade was driven deeper and he screamed.

It tore out of his lungs so forcefully and suddenly it knocked the wind out of him, breathless sobs wracking his body. He reached for purchase, finding a shirt and squeezing, hot tears leaving flaming trails down his face. An agonizing few minutes later, which felt like several hours to Draco, the tools were removed from his abdomen and there was a clink of metal on metal. Despite the girls instructions, he sat up and looked down at where the bullet had been, wanting to see the hell the bullet had caused, despite the light-headedness and pain awaiting for him. He found Hermione's bloodied hands and a gaping hole, lacerated open and bleeding profusely. Before he could finish hearing Hermione scolding him, blood drained from his face and his vision swam before he collapsed down onto the cot, loosing consciousness halfway down.