Important Notice: I just wanted to warn potential readers about me not being a native speaker of the English language! I decided to write this fic in English because I couldn't picture the characters of Harry Potter speaking French (my mother tongue), haha. Also, I love how English is such a wonderfully creative language...

So PLEASE do not hesitate to correct any mistakes you find in my writing. I'd be very grateful :-)! And feel free to review (I'd be very grateful too!).

Hope you enjoy (this is my first fanfic EVER)!

Rating: Rated T

Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own Harry Potter

~ Chapter I ~

As he was walking through the dark forest, his feet barely touching the ground, his slender legs having been trained to move felinely, his ears suddenly caught the slightest noise. Really, it was only a small whisper, carried by the chilly wind. The biting cold mixed with this low chant made the hair at the top of his neck stand on end. He froze. It was there, somewhere in the woods, this sound. It stopped and Scabior's eyes searched between the dark trunks, trying to pierce through the nocturnal mist. Nothing. It was gone. The dirge, the murmur; it had died.

The cold air was running around the Snatcher's body, slowly lingering on his skin, embracing him, biting him. The silence of the night was now complete, almost supernatural. Scabior wasn't used to be afraid. Actually, fear wasn't part of his vocabulary, except when it was him inducing it. However, in the gloomy stillness of the night, here in this lonely forest, with as only companion the whispering keen he had just heard, a small, tiny little twitch of fear suddenly caught his stomach. Annoyed at himself, Scabior shook his head.

Ye can't let yourself get impressed by this type of things, Scab, he thought.

Well, ye might even 'ave imagined it. Of course ye 'ave, ye're exhausted after this long 'unt ye 'ad the other day, he reassured himself.

And wot is frightening in a whisper in the middle of the night, eh?

Smiling at himself, Scabior decided to walk further. He was unafraid. Nothing could frighten a lead Snatcher... right?

After Scabior had taken a few steps further, a sudden, strong gust of wind hit a nearby tree, making some white, powdery snow twirl in the freezing air. His cocky smile vanished abruptly. Scabior jumped, wand raised.

"Who's there?" he shouted.

He immediately after cursed himself for the small trembling in his rough voice. Of course, no answer was given. Once again, the forest stood remarkably still. This time, the small twitch of fear in Scabior's stomach turned into the heavy pounding of his heart.

Wot the 'ell is 'appening 'ere? he thought.

The pounding inside him became stronger, filling his ears with the rushing sound of his blood. Suddenly, he felt as if two very cold hands brushed his nape. The Snatcher stiffened. His breath caught inside his lungs and he closed his eyes. The freezing touch faded instantly. Absolutely motion and breathless, Scabior waited for something to happen. After what seemed like to be an eternity, his Snatcher instinct reached his brain, shouting at him:

Coward! Open them! Open yer eyes!

Without hesitating, Scabior opened his eyelids. The forest looked exactly the same as before. Slowly, the air stuck in his lungs released itself. His muscles relaxed a little bit and he even decided to secure his wand back under his studded belt. Aware of his own weakness, the Snatcher emitted a small snigger.

"Bloody f..."

He didn't have time to finish his sentence. One freezing finger had begun to trace his backbone, moving from the root of his hair to the collar of his leather jacket; where it stopped. The touch sent goosebumps all over his body. Unwilling, unable, to turn around, Scabior felt how sheer panic was rising inside of him. The gentle, almost seductive caress made its way up again until it reached the Snatcher's bushy hair. The finger was then replaced by the two hands which slowly moved along his trapezium muscles and then, around his neck.

The fear was so intense that Scabior didn't even dare look down to see if actual hands were touching him. His grey-blue eyes were wide open this time, his lungs again constricted in expectation. The hands took their time, slowly moving along his carotid, where the deafening sound of his pulse was resonating through his skull. The frozen limbs stayed pressed against the pulse in his neck for a long period of time until they were joined by another wave of cold that made Scabior shudder. It was as if an icy body had just pressed itself against his back. The Snatcher closed his eyes again. He couldn't bear it any longer.

The cold was so intense that he felt himself become numb. His thoughts, however panicked they were, begun to feel like cotton.

A nice sleep... maybe...

The cold figure must have felt his giving up because the hands suddenly moved along his neck again. Scabior's eyes opened. He even managed to get a gulp of fresh air. His inhalation was however caught in the middle when what seemed to be two soft, almost velvety but still freezing lips brushed his nape. The Snatcher froze even more.

This 'as to be a dream. This just cannot be 'appening!

At first light and gentle, the lips became more demanding as they moved to the crook of his neck. Scabior's chest felt as if it were going to explode. Fear? Panic? ...Pleasure? He could not even decipher what was raging inside of him. The Snatcher almost snapped when the lips parted and teasing teeth begun to play with his skin. The hands, which were still moving along his neck, suddenly tightened their grip and slowly compressed his windpipe. The sudden lack of air mingled with the intoxicating nibbling of the icy mouth triggered what felt like a wave of pleasure through Scabior who couldn't help but let out a strangled moan.

However, the numbness caused by the unbearable cold pressed against him didn't happily mix with the lack of air. The straight trunks of the forest started swaying in front of the Snatcher's eyes as a dark veil covered his sight. He felt himself fall into unconsciousness.

Before the blackness overwhelmed him completely, he felt the sharp sting of a blade piercing through his back.

And everything sunk into darkness...