Fatal Fires
Chapter 1
"She took my heart, I think she took my soul. With the moon I run, far from the carnage of the fiery sun." Kings of Leon
Song choice: In For The Kill By La Roux (Skream version)
Scabior knew that her scent would be his ultimate downfall. The scarf now in his possession, smelled of raspberries and chocolate. The scarf belonged to the ever elusive Hermione Granger. That night in the forest he realized her presence, her tantalizing smell consuming his every thought. Scabior suspected that the Golden Trio had been hiding out in his forest, but she confirmed it. Somehow he knew it was Hermione, he had once seen her picture and had become fascinated with the mere idea of her. A muggle-born witch could surely not be so beautiful and intelligent. Yet, he knew that she would be everything and more. The sadist in him wanted to take it from her, strip away all that she owned. It was for more reasons than one that he had hunted her for the last two days, when he finally came upon them. The tell-tale sounds of apparition sizzled in the air causing a smirk to form on his rugged features. Scabior leaned casually against the tree he had occupied and simply waited. When Hermione came into view, something strange happened. He felt a wild thrill coursing through him, like he had just discovered a rare secret. Shaking off his inane thoughts, he set his mind to the task at hand.
As his men closed in on the Golden trio, he caught Fenrir sniffing at Hermione's hair and rubbing himself against her backside. Black rage swept through him causing his vision to go red. Momentarily, Scabior was shocked at his own feelings. Trying to get a grip on his anger, he briskly walked forward, snatching her out of Fenrir's hold.
"Is there a problem, Scabior?" Fenrir sneered.
"Not yet, but soon to be if you don't keep your hands off my prize," Scabior played it off, acting as if that was the only reason he had intervened.
In truth, Scabior wasn't sure what spurred his dark thoughts, he was acting purely on instinct alone. Now holding Hermione in his grasp he took the opportunity to gaze upon her features up close. Lifting her face, he looked at the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Hermione was staring at him in stony silence, not giving anything of her emotions away, but her golden eyes screamed at him, they were so bright and full of life. Shaking himself mentally, he asked her a question he already knew the answer to.
"And who might you be, love," he whispered in her ear.
"Get away from her, you piece of shite," the red-haired boy, screamed in outrage.
"Is that your boyfriend?," Scabior asked her calmly, but his hold on her wrist increased instinctively.
"My name is Penelope Clearwater," the angel spoke in clipped tones.
"Ah, but I know different, little one," he taunted her, his eyes filled with a wicked gleam.
"If you know who I am that get on with it, and stop playing us," she rasped, as Scabior traced his fingers across her cheek.
"What's the fun in that, love? I want to play with you, and what's more, I want to hear you scream my name," Scabior whispered so that only she could hear him.
"Look Scabior, it's Harry Potter. I can make out his scar just as well as you can. Stop your fucking around, and lets turn them in," Fenrir yelled, disgusted with wasting time.
"Take me then, leave them. It's me Voldemort wants," Harry spoke for the first time.
"Harry, no!" Hermione screamed, while Ron watched on in fear.
Scabior found himself in a predicament beyond his imagining. He wanted the girl, and not just temporarily.