Two brothers. Born on the same day with nearly the same face. However their fates were not the same.

Sam, the older of the twins, would remain with their older brother and father and become a hunter. Gabriel, the younger twin, would be taken from their home the day their mother died and left for dead on the steps of a childless couple's home to be raised as their son.

This story's beginning takes place eighteen years after his disappearance from America...and the events that would lead to him finding his twin all over again.

Harry Potter was a broken man. His friends and once family had abandoned him the moment they learned that he might not be the one the prophecy spoke of to kill Voldemort once and for all. To make matters worse, the goblins had completely cut him off from his vaults, saying that he didn't actually own them as a muggleborn.

Fortunately he had removed most of his trust vault the day before the truth came out, so he wasn't completely broke. And he knew how to earn even more cash without spending all of his own.

He merely hit a branch of the bank, one that didn't know about him or the fact he was no longer considered a Potter. He had them convert his muggle cash to gold bullion, then left the bank, converted all that gold back into pounds, before repeating the process. Thanks to the fact that the Ministry didn't let the goblins update according to times, the number of bullion he gained for his gold more than made up for what he lost. By the time the Gringotts branches caught onto his trick, he had left all his money with the gnomes in Switzerland through an intermediary under his actual name.

Winchester. The Ministry and the Death Eaters who ran it would never get their hands on their precious gold now, and Harry had drained every bank he had hit dry of their gold supply. Goblins made galleons with gold bullion. After Harry hit their branch banks, they were running very low...and after he hit Gringotts last he had walked out with nearly their entire supply available.

When the goblins figured out what he had done, they had tipped their hat to the wizard for playing such a trick on them and getting away with it clean.

The moment his former friends learned he wasn't a half-blood, but a muggleborn like Granger, most had abandoned him, and those that didn't had been killed when he was captured. Most, if not all, that remained of his school friends had jumped ship and were now trying to sweeten their way into Neville's camp.

It was little consolation that Neville, when he heard what happened, had kicked them all out without hesitation. He hadn't spent those years at Hogwarts with his head up his ass...he had seen how they treated Harry, and he wanted nothing to do with them. They had ignored him as the weakling and the disaster until they found out they could use him, and he wanted no part of it.

Harry coughed painfully. After the abandonment by everyone, including the girl he had fallen for despite their shared origins, he had fallen into such a deep depression that the only enjoyment Voldemort could get from him now was to hear his pained screams as the cruciatus tore his nerve endings apart piece by painful piece.

He was considered the communal torture toy for new Death Eaters, and there were so many marked now...he had lost count at two hundred... that the only saving grace he could possibly hope for was death.

"Well, well, well...what have we here?" said a cultured British accent.

Harry coughed up a bit of blood.

"Another one? What does this make now, two hundred fifty?" he said tiredly.

The voice chuckled. It was a dark sound.

"You still have spirit I see. Or is it that you could care less by now and only wish for death? Tell me, Harry Potter...or should I say Gabriel Winchester? What would you do to be free?" asked the voice.

"Who do you want dead?"

"That's the kind of spirit I like. Here's the deal wizard. These idiot Death Eaters have all but won this war, and most of them are trying to renege on the deals they made. Now as the King of the Crossroads, I can't exactly have that. So what sort of deal would you make to earn your freedom and get your revenge?"

Harry...no, this wasn't Harry Potter. Harry Potter died after his so called friends kicked him to the curb once they found out he had been adopted. This was Gabriel Winchester and he was pissed as hell.

"What do you want demon?"

"Oh no, the question is what you want Winchester. See I can't force them to keep up their end of the deal without someone making a bargain first. That's the catch-22 of demon deals...the only way to collect before their time is up is to make another deal," said Crowley, for that was his name.

Gabriel looked at the amused demon right in the eye and laid out his terms. This wasn't the Golden Gryff right now...this was the snake that had hidden behind the facade of his lion's hide. This was the reason why the hat had wanted to place him in Slytherin oh so many years ago.

"Very well demon. I want my health back, these damn scars removed except for the ones I earned myself, and a front row seat to their demise. How many souls will that earn you?" he asked.

"Oh? What makes you think I wouldn't take them all once the deal is struck and your own as well?"

"I know about demon deals. They have several loopholes, and with the power vacuum I'll be leaving behind me once this is done, you and your kind will have all sorts of fresh soil to plant your seeds in. So I want to make a deal we can both benefit from. For every soul I help you gain, I get one favor. Equivalent exchange and all that rot," said Gabriel.

Crowley laughed coldly. He liked this human! It would be interesting to see him fall from heaven's grace and into the pit...maybe he could make a half-way decent lackey in the process.

"And to add to the pot, I'll even help you get several contracts early. See I don't plan on living on the gold I stole legally from the goblins early. I want something to kill time until my own is up..."

"You'd become a demon's lackey?" asked Crowley eagerly.

"Not lackey. I prefer the term bounty hunter. As in you give me the names and locations of people trying to renege on their contracts, and I'll waltz right past their protected areas for you and terminate their contract without you wasting your time. In exchange you pay me cash equivalent the number of days they had left. Fair?"

Oh Crowley liked this human. He knew the rules of the game and he was determined to earn every inch. And the idea of a demon's bounty hunter did sound very appealing...they could collect contracts without having to wait so long.

And best of all it had all sorts of opportunities to turn this human into prime demon material later! Even if they didn't get his soul, they might get him anyway!

"So do we have a bargain wizard? Your health, all the real marks of your adventures and a front row seat to the end of Riddle? And in exchange you'll even get a few demon favors free of charge and a job," said Crowley.

"We have an accord demon," said Gabriel.

Crowley shook his hand, and Gabriel felt years fall off him. The shackles and spells fell off him like broken chains, and everything that had been done to him was removed.

He looked years younger, less like a thirty-year-old and more like the twenty-year-old he was.

Crowley traced his lightning shaped scar and Gabriel heard the piece of Voldemort scream as the demon yanked it out painlessly.

"Oh I'm going to have fun watching you break," he said to the phylactery.

He put it away in a jar and took Gabriel to see the current battle between Voldemort and what was left of the Order.

He watched dispassionately as hellhounds came out of the pit to rend anyone with a Mark to pieces. Hermione, the woman he had fallen in love with and watched abandon him without hesitation, saw him on the edge of the battlefield and knew he was the cause.

Several witches and wizards tried to corner him, expecting him to claim credit. Instead he gave them all a Look, saying without words what he thought of them and their precious society.

"You treated me like your savior, your scapegoat, and then you dump me once you find out I'm really a muggleborn adopted into the Potter family. Keep your precious magic and I hope you all enjoy the deaths of those you caused when you abandoned me. I renounce England and all your communities stand for... Good riddance to you, you bloody sheep," he said coldly.

"Harry...what have you done?"

"Harry? Harry died the day you left him broken in that ditch to be captured by Riddle and his minions. I am the Angel of Judgment, and I judge you all as guilty," he spat.

Crowley liked Gabriel's flare for the dramatic. Anyone who read the bible knew that particular angel was the arch angel Gabriel. He had given them all the clue they would ever need to find him.

"Enjoy your reward?" asked Crowley.

"Absolutely. Shall we leave these sheep behind for the wolves to feed on?" asked Gabriel.

Crowley cackled carelessly as they vanished. He picked up a white stone and the bone white wand for Gabriel though. He had earned them legally when he made the deal that killed Riddle and his lackeys.

Gabriel found a certain satisfaction earning a living as a bounty hunter. He had gone to the FBI's main building after looking up where to ask how to become a legal bounty hunter. They had given him a form, a week long test to prove he was of sound mind and body and could handle a gun reasonably, and given him a nice shiny badge, an ID number and a password to the FBI's most wanted list.

The feds tolerated bounty hunters, mostly because it meant that they got their targets without risking important personnel in the process. It was worth losing a bounty hunter if they got to keep even one agent.

Almost immediately he was swamped with new targets...then he found out that one of them had a demon contract that was nearly up and had an idea.

For the cost of a small favor, Crowley gave him all the names and details of those with demon contracts. Gabriel compared them to the federal database and got several hits. Being a demon's bounty hunter became far easier when you could get twice the payday. Grinning, he went after the first on the list.

Vincent Blake. 35, divorced, had a sudden success that went sour after his wife cut ties with him and stole most of his cash, trying his hardest to get back on top before the contract was up. Had three years left. Problem was that he was tied to several drug cartels and had attracted the cops attention. Had a 50,000 dollar bounty on his head alive, thirty if dead. An extra five if the hunter brought in any information leading to the arrest of at least one cartel.

The idiot made a demon deal, and he wasn't that interested in the cash.

A few new guns (all Winchester make because he was big on irony) and several enchantments later, and he was ready to go.

He busted down the door with a good kick and a blasting hex, shot three bean bag rounds in quick succession (he had spent most of the month preparing and learning how to shoot rapidly with a shotgun) and the man went down. Gabriel didn't hesitate to hit him with a full-body bind so he could securely tie him up without getting attacked in the process, then he smirked evilly as he informed him that due to his incompetence that his contract was now up.

All he had to do was lace the computer with some fake files of child pornography and the inmates in whatever hellhole prison he landed in would do the rest. Even someone with no experience with the legal system knew that those who targeted children didn't last long in prison.

Gabriel walked out with more cash than he had gone in with, and a quick transfer to his account in Switzerland meant he didn't have to worry about any of it being taken. His wallet was the same one Hagrid (one of the rare, rare few who stayed by his side even after the truth came out) had given him one year, armed with a charm courtesy of the gnomes that would allow him to withdraw from his account directly.

He heard later from Crowley that his target died the second he had given up his contacts. Very mysterious, as some sort of unidentifiable snake venom had been found in his body...very slow acting and extremely painful. In return he left three thousand dollars in his gnome-run account. A thousand for each year left, and in the case of months it went down to a hundred.

Gabriel found himself with a unique situation. With his job as a bounty hunter, his old skills of fighting had meaning. So what if the feds complained about the bean bag rounds he shot almost on instinct by now at almost every target he went after? They were only winged, not dead.

After the first year of bounty hunting, he found that he had earned a reputation among the small community of year-round hunters.

The Hound of Judgment. He thought it sounded fitting, considering he had been tempted to ask Crowley for a pack of hellhounds he could 'blood summon' for extra kick.

Considering how much amusement he had been giving said demon, the man had given him one the moment he asked. It took him three months and learning the hard way that his new ability to see hellhounds also came with the irritating side effect of allowing him to see demons and reapers, before he could take them on a run.

Still, knowing when he was dealing with a demon came in handy...even if it took him several hours and multiple occult shops to locate an actual amulet to prevent possession...and then a few painful weeks to get used to his new tattoo.

So here he was sitting in a tiny outside area where they sold imported beer. He was enjoying a cold brew after a rather annoying case...Crowley had called him up and all but demanded that he deal with this pest now because he was very close to breaking his contract prematurely.

Gabriel had long since made a point to ask the demon what exactly they had asked for... it had started out of curiosity at first, but the look of relief one man had on his face after he had made a deal to save his daughter's life from a coma had made the inquiries worth it.

Gabriel couldn't separate a family. He had sworn then and there to at least check to see if they had made a deal out of greed or some other vice, or if it had been the only choice available. He had no guilt over losing one of his soul markers from all those Crowley had taken from his own deal.

Hearing a father and son argue over college, Gabriel grimaced. He just wanted some peace and quiet. He was about to leave when he did a doubletake.

The son arguing with his father looked like him in the mirror. What...the...hell?

Gabriel left with his bottle, since he had already paid and the run-in was too disturbing to keep his buzz going.

He was about to dial Crowley and asks what was going on, but decided to wait until morning where he could enjoy a hangover and pissing off the demon at the same time.

Cursing a demon was always fun...mostly because he had to actually be creative about the things he called the demon (usually Crowley after an annoying assignment) and the words that he shouted at him were always entertaining.

Gabriel's personal favorite was calling Crowley the son of Micheal and a celibate nun...that always pissed him off.