Here is my first attempt at fanfiction. I became very interested in the character of Scabior because he is so underdeveloped in the books, as well as the films. This story is inspired largely on the idea that everyone wants to be someone's exception, hence the title "Of All the Things I Want to Change." I don't buy into the idea that a prisoner of the snatchers could fall in love with one of them, although I will admit that Stockholm Syndrome does exist. Rather, I think that a character could be drawn towards Scabior for a different reason – and this is what I wish to develop in this story.
Reviews, commentary, and criticism would be greatly appreciated as I am writing this as an exercise – this is way out of my genre. If there is interest, I will continue with this story.
Chapter 1: Caught in the Forest
Carly wheeled about in the clearing, listening intently for the sound of following footsteps. She extinguished her wand with a non-verbal nox, and crouched low to the ground. The moon shone overhead, illuminating the trees and casting convoluted shadows across the forest floor.
There had definitely been someone there. The crunch of a boot. A snapped twig. These sounds had woken her from sleep, and led her to leave her sleeping bag and supplies in a frenzy of panic. And now there was silence.
Carly knew that there were others like her. Those who had fled. Truly, she was hoping for company. Yet Neville's last letter had been over a week ago, and she had no way of knowing which way the war was headed without even a glimpse of a Daily Prophet, or a shred of news. Nor could she find her family. They were gone; one of the first families of the Order of the Phoenix to have been hunted down. Carly knew not whether they were dead or imprisoned in Azkaban. Which was worse?
A loud crack echoed across the clearing, and Carly saw a large shadow rising from a crouch low to the ground. The outline of a wand could be seen by his side. Another crack erupted on her right, and the young woman took off at a headlong sprint in the opposite direction. Rough twigs clawed at her face as she fought to keep her footing along the rough wooded grounded, which was littered with broken logs and stray rocks.
"Well don't hang' about," she heard an amused voice say from the clearing, "snatch'er!"
Snatchers! These were the last people Carly wanted to run into alone in a forest. If they caught her, she would be sent to the Ministry to endure unknown horrors. She had no idea what happened to runaways from Hogwarts who were known affiliates of the Order of the Phoenix and who had done the things that she had.
Spurred on by this realization, Carly accelerated. A jet or red screamed past her head, missing her by inches and taking a large chunk out of a nearby oak tree. In response, the brunette shouted "Confringo," and heard the sound of spraying dirt and the shattering of wood behind her. Someone swore loudly to her left and Carly panicked. She veered sharply to the right and stumbled, catching her foot on an uncovered root. Somehow, Carly maintained her death grip on her wand and rolled to her feet just in time to deflect the first stunning spell.
The man's wand slashed the air again and Carly ducked, taking advantage of the slight lull in action to take in her surroundings. She could hear the sounds of more hurrying feet, and the harsh sounds of laboured breathing.
"Expelliarmus!" someone shouted behind her. Carly blocked the spell and responded with a stunning spell, causing the second man to crumple to his knees. Another came forward to take his place, but the young women took him down easily before taking off into the woods again. She glanced behind her and saw a man, faster than the others, who was almost level with her. Before she could formulate her next move, Carly was knocked off her feet by his spell. She flew several feet before her back hit a tree, driving the wind from her body. Her wand landed out of sight.
Someone reached down and dragged her up by her sweater. Swiftly, her arms were pinned behind her back. Carly stamped hard on his foot, took advantage of his loosened hold on her arms, and spun around to knee him in the groin. Presently, however, she was grabbed from behind and felt a wand pressed to her throat.
"Easy there, love" a male voice crooned into her ear. The arm wrapped about her chest smelled of stale sweat and smoke. A red band encircled his upper arm, marking him as a snatcher: an enforcer in the service of You-Know-Who, drawn from the lowest of the low, and seeking out fugitives for recompense in gold. Dying in the clutches of Voldemort's enforcers was not the way that Carly had hoped to die. She struggled in vain against the man's strong arms, ignoring the presence of his wand.
"Oi, Greyback, take a hold of her will you." The man ordered, shoving Carly forward so suddenly that she lost her balance and fell into the arms of an even larger man.
"Mmhh… so soft," grunted the new man as he reached to stroke her neck with an enormous hand. Carly glimpsed yellowed and pointed fingernails. She wanted to scream. She'd hoped that the name might be coincidence, but this certainly was the Greyback. She tried to fight him off, but desisted as the werewolf pressed her closer to his body and began to inhale loudly. Instead, she turned her attention to the man who had disarmed her and sent her sprawling to the forest floor.
"Hello' beau'iful," he said, stepping towards her. He wore a black leather jacket over plaid pants and a dark shirt. There was a red streak through his tangled hair, which fell down past his shoulders and was held back, partly, by a leather cord. He might have been handsome were he cleaner and better groomed. As his face neared hers, she noted a tattoo on his neck, marking him as an inmate of Azkaban. Carly felt herself shudder involuntarily.
"Tell me, wa's your name, love?" He asked, raising his hand to cup her cheek.
"Lavender Brown," she replied, stating the first name that came to her mind.
"Well why didn't you jus' say so?"the snatcher mused. "Check it!" He ordered someone beyond Carly's line of sight. She heard some rustling of paper and the unmistakable sound of a quill being run across parchment.
"There's no Lavender Brown on here, Scabior," A man shouted, coming nearer to peer at Carly's face, "She does seem to be about 'Ogwarts age, though, doesn't she?"
Greyback ran a large, dirty hand through her hair, then pulled back suddenly, forcing her head up towards the man named Scabior. Carly whimpered as she felt the werewolf's nails dig into her scalp. "What's your name, girlie?" he growled into her ear.
"I told you," Carly replied, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. "I'm Lavender Brown, a pureblood. My parents –"
The man named Scabior slapped her across the face, then said in a menacingly soft voice, "Come now dear, we know that ain't true. So why not save yourself some pain and be 'onest now. Tell us yer name, or might be I'll give you a new one."
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Carly retorted, surprised by her own boldness. The snatcher reached out and grasped the side of her face tightly. Carly could feel his fingers digging into her skin and knew that she would have bruises later. The young woman stared up at the man with a determined expression. She tried to hide her fear behind cold green eyes, but inside her mind was reeling. She felt her heart might burst from her chest. She expected him to slap her again, or curse her. He did neither. He laughed.
"Well, might be yeh'll need some convincing, love. I c'n manage that."
"What boss? Why not take her t'the Ministry with the others?" Asked one of the men who had finally caught up. He gestured towards a pair of boys no older than Carly that two other snatchers held. Both looked grim and worn, and one sported a black eye and an ugly purple bruise which marred half of his face.
"It's late," said Scabior, "We'll bring em' in the morning. Might be I can loosen up the girl's tongue a bit in the meantime. Besides, she's a pretty little creature, and I'm tired of having only yeh boy's around." He chuckled darkly and turned to grin about wickedly at his companions. Greyback chuckled darkly behind her, and Carly sprung from his arms. She tore off in the opposite direction, barreling through several snatchers in her way.
She ran as fast as she could through the gloom of the forest, weaving among the trees and jumping down outcropping banks. She cursed herself for forgetting to seize a wand, and concentrated on trying to lose her pursuers. The moon was high above now and Carly knew that, although she couldn't disaparate without a wand, she might be able to evade the snatchers in the dark. She ran until every breath made her lungs ache. Finally, she broke to walk. She was now completely disorientated, and her head was pounding to match her racing heart. Hearing no sounds of pursuit, she sighed in relief.
"Don't think you'll be getting' off so easy, beautiful," a familiar voice said from the darkness. She saw the shape of the lead snatcher detach itself from a nearby tree. He raised his wand. Carly tried to run, but was caught mid-step by his spell and crumpled to the ground.