Oh dear…I seem to have found a new obsession in none other than our very on Rufus Scabior. I will stick with this story! I will finish it! Ahem. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it (: I tried to change this up from the normal Scabior stories you read out there, I hope it is not too terribly boring. Please Read and Review. Any little bit counts! The more flames I have the more s'mores I get to make. I would also like some feedback on how explicit I should make this story. I'm going to make it as tame as possible, but there are some things that I would like to go into detail with, so let me know what you all think!
I do NOT own Harry Potter, however if I did, life would be so much better3
Her heart beat fast, and her lungs burned as though she had inhaled the very flames of hell. Tangled undergrowth and roots grabbed at her as her blistered, bruised unprotected feet pounded the frozen ground. She hadn't had time to put on her boots before the Snatchers had burst into her home, and the cold ground ripped at her bare feet mercilessly, leaving chunks of skin and blood strewn about the forest behind her. She could hear their boots thudding on the ground behind her, taunting her with their nearness.
The leader of the group of bounty hunters growled impatiently, picking up his pace, his tangled, dark hair whipping about him like a black halo. The tips of her long, burgundy hair were nearly within in his grasp, he grabbed for them, nearly toppling himself over. She yelped at how close he had gotten, and pushed herself to go farther, mentally willing her screaming lungs and burning legs to stop. They did not, and without warning her left leg gave out, sending her tumbling down an embankment and into a ravine.
Stunned, the girl lay there, gasping and blinking, trying to make sense of what just happened. Her head felt as though someone was beating on it with a hammer, and she was absolutely positive that she'd just been hit by a bus. Before she could get her wits about her and start running again, the wild eyed man who had led them after her began sliding down the embankment down to her.
"Ya done know, Gabrielle?" he laughed as he walked up to her, panting heavily, "Ya gave us a chase, little dove, I'll give ya tha' one." He wiped at his sweat covered face with his hands, and crouched down next to her.
"Go to hell, Scabior," she growled and tried to scoot away from him, failing miserably as her head began to throb.
"I spent four years in hell, darlin', and I ain't planning to go back," he barked, grabbing her by the arms and wrenching her up.
She whimpered, but clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. Scabior pulled her into his body, his hot breath ghosting across her face as her grinned at her.
"It's a thousand galleons for your head, Gabbi, three thousand if you're alive, I'm not sure which I would prefer," he growled in her ear, caressing her cheek.
"Awe, you mean to tell me that all those cold nights last winter that we spent together mean nothing to you now that you've sold out to You-Know-Who and Umbridge?" she spat.
"Wha' makes you think that they ever meant anythin', beautiful?" he sneered, grabbing a fistful of her hair.
She bit the inside of her cheek, drawing blood, she had to admit that that stung, and the feelings of rejection that she'd buried months ago surfaced all at once, but she quickly buried them and smirked.
"I believe that you did, right around the time you proclaimed your love for me and asked me to marry you when the war ended," she grinned, feigning innocence when she saw the fury written all over his face.
"Shut your mouth, you stupid wench, you meant nothin' to me, you're just a good shag. Speakin' of which, how 'bout it love? One last time 'fore Umbridge has you locked up in Azkaban?"
This earned a hearty laugh from his company and made Gabrielle's blood boil.
"I would rather die, besides, my last romp is going to be with someone a little bigger, if you know what I mean," she said, looking into his eyes, and giving him a smug smile.
"You shit face," he growled, smacking her.
She gasped, but recovered quickly, spitting in his face. He roared at her, throwing her to a werewolf looking man that she knew as Fenrir Greyback.
"I was prepared to be nice to ya, Gabbi. Was gonna make yer stay with us as painless as possible. I was gonna hold ya, and love ya, but now I think I'll let Greyback have his fun with ya, you can stay in his tent," he said with a scowl, turning his back to her and preparing to walk away.
Panic stirred in her gut and stabbed her like a knife, she made to run for him, but Fenrir's strong arms held her back. She felt tears sting her caramel colored eyes at the thought of the beast behind her laying a hand on her.
"No! Please Scabior, I'm sorry, I am just scared, please take me with you," she pleaded. It made bile rise in her throat to cry out to him like that, but if she had to pick her poison, she would be the best tasting one.
"Oh, so now you're being friendly, eh, lovely?" he purred, stalking back over to her. "You're gonna have to do better than a little beggin' if you want to appeal to my mercy now."
"W-what do you want me to do, anything, just please get me away from him," she nearly wailed, her voice wavering with unspoken sadness.
"Greyback, drop her and leave," Scabior snarled, flicking his wrist at the bigger man.
With a grunt the massive creature shoved Gabrielle unceremoniously on the ground, stomping away.
"On your knees," the Snatcher commanded as he undid his belt buckle.
Her stomach began to tie itself into knots as she realized his intentions, her lip quivering ever so slightly.
This isn't the first time you've done this with him, Gabbi, just imagine that everything is like it was last winter, she told herself, shakily getting to her knees.
It had been a long time for the man, and it was over minutes after it had started, but to Gabrielle, it felt like hours.
Buckling himself up and clearing his throat, Scabior gingerly offered her a hand, which she gladly accepted to pull herself up with. She was humiliated, and hot, embarrassed tears ran down her face. He gently reached out with his left forefinger and thumb, wiping the salty liquid away.
"Shhhh, love, ya don't want them knowin' 'bout this, do ya?" he grinned, dropping his hand away and sauntering toward the camp, her wrist gripped tightly between his fingers to prevent escape.
She heaved a sob, but composed herself. He was right, she didn't want anyone to know what just happened. In fact, she wanted nothing more but to crawl into bed and sob in to a pillow, and that's exactly what she did.
After reaching camp, Scabior took her to his tent, and she fell down on to the bed, waiting for him to leave before she curled up in the middle and cried herself into a restless sleep.
So, what did ya guys think? Yes? No? Maybe?