This is a Story of Hermione and Scabior and their first meeting in the Forest of Dean, ideas are taken from many places, it tells the story of Hermione trying hard to supress her feelings for the Ragged but devilishly handsome snatcher, chapters are constantly being added! Please enjoy and Review!

I own nothing, this is just for my own and hopefully your entertainment, J.K Rowling is the Genius.

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'That's it, I'm caught' were Hermione's thoughts as she tripped and fell suddenly and rather painfully to the damp forest floor.

Seconds later her terrified thoughts were confirmed as the snatcher who had been pursuing her's rapid breathing was noticeably close to her delicate ear. A ruff hand clenched around her thin arm and pulled her upwards. Hermione noticed for the first time since she had fallen moments before, the piercing ache in her ankle, she couldn't have put much weight on it to help herself stand up if she'd wanted to.

The snatcher quickly gave up his attempts and changed his plan to sit his sweet prey up against the tree that towered over them just two feet away. Realising what her capturer was now trying to accomplish, she tried with all her weight to remain where she was, locking her tired body in it's current position to make it as hard as possible for the snatcher.

But it was no use, although he didn't look it, he was clearly reasonably strong and managed the task effortlessly, albeit with somewhat unnecessary roughness at the same time. Hermione sat their silently and unwillingly, and tried to make her expression unfazed and indifferent to his treatment, but tears began to trickle from nowhere stinging down her icy rose tinted cheeks.

The snatcher knelt in front of her, not bothering to tie her up or put his usual immobilising charms on her, as he knew that even if she did get away – which she wouldn't – she was now unarmed and weakened by her injury. Instead, he decided to examine her. He stared intently at her broken face and tried to place where he might have seen her before, for he was sure that he had.

Hermione, aware of his gaze tried to look anywhere but at this man she instinctly loathed. Though now the snatcher had invaded so far into her personal space, that it was impossible to see past his gauntly face. She felt his hot breath against her cheek, she was surprised that there was a rather strong hint of peppermint in it, disguising the usually overpowering scent of firewiskey.

"It's no use trying to find an escape route darlin'," he said with an air of humour as he noticed her pupils dancing and darting around her eyes, avoiding his overpowering gaze.

"I wasn't…" she said before she could stop herself, she involuntarily glanced up at him when she spoke. Then quickly looked away, and then back again, doing a strange sort of double take motion. His eyes dominated his face; they were blue/grey and framed by a mass of jet black eyelashes giving him a mysterious darkness which wasn't dissimilar to his character.

"Ahh that's better," he said as their eyes met for the first time, "Hello beautiful."

She looked at him, shocked by his unexpected words, and tone of voice, he was undoubtedly a Londoner from his deep voice and accent, it was highly alluring. He seemed perfectly at home in the forest, indicating to her that he was used to sleeping under the stars. She wanted and expected herself to feel repulsed by him, her capturer, for talking to her and sitting so close, however, the feeling didn't come, she was oddly transfixed by him.

"What's your name then?" he asked conversationally, "and don't even think about lying beautiful, I've got means that you'd never imagine to get the truth out of people."

Hermione considered him for a moment, she already had her false identity in her mind, but something told her that the snatcher wasn't lying about these 'means' he stated he possessed, and to be frank, she didn't want to find out what they were.

"Hermione Granger" she replied automatically, and instantly regretted her decision to be truthful as his face lit up at her answer, he knew he'd recognised her from somewhere; the undesirable posters which now monopolised Diagon Alley.

"Well Hermione, you seem to be in a spot o' bother with the old Ministry of Magic at the moment, did you know that sweetie?"

She just shook her head, so he continued, "Yes, see, I'm under strict orders to take you straight to the Ministry..."

Her face fell, she'd been expecting it, but all the same, hearing it out loud was confirmation, and the thought was terrifying.

"…But," he continued, emphasising the 't' sound. Her eyes widened at this tiny glimmer of hope, "I've never been one for obeying orders, and besides I think that'd be a bit of a waste, don't you Miss Granger?...for now at least" and he stroked her fair cheek with the tip of his wand.

She didn't know exactly what he thought would be a waste, she didn't like the idea of it, but remained silent so as not to disturb his unforeseen thoughts.

He paused before resuming, "I think we'll set up camp here tonight, and I'll catch up with my group in the morning, with any luck they'll have caught your ginger boyfriend and the Potter boy…" then he added carelessly, "I'm Scabior by the way."