Written for the 12 Days of Christmas Challenge at Caesar's Palace. Random pairing: Scabior/Ron. Crack!fic of sorts.
WC: 152
The Snatcher does what he does best: snatching. It doesn't feel any different when he captures three teenagers in the woods.
But that was before he looked into the redhead's eyes.
He knew those eyes. They were the same eyes from the dreams that he woke up from hating with almost every fiber of his being (a certain ligament of his enjoyed those dreams very much). It was wrong to have these feelings, he told himself. He had no qualms about fucking a minor into his crusty bedsheets, but the boy was from the Light.
The Weasleys were historically light, and that wouldn't do.
Standing before the boy, finally captured and in his palm so he could do anything he wanted, Scabior imagined twisting his hand around the boy's heart, bruising it until it became a deep purple. Where would he take this relationship next? Yes, this was how he liked it.