Hermione awoke late in the night, with the bed covers pulled over her. Her mind numb with confusion, she didn't think anything of it until she peered into the darkness, her gaze resting on the figure that lay on the sofa. Then it all came rushing back; Xenophilius' desperate plee for them to stay, the Death Eaters attacking, the chase, the strange snatcher, the food.

She felt her stomach, which had begun growling again. She felt fine. But that didn't mean that she was fine. The snatcher could still do anything to her. The third member of the Golden Trio looked back at the snatcher. He looked exhausted, and so... Peaceful, just laying there, like he had never meant anything by snatching her. The girl found herself staring at him until the milky light of dawn caused the tent to lighten, and he moved, getting to his feet and walking to the washroom to freshen up for a day of snatching.

She quickly pretended to be sleeping, until he came back, his breath minty and his hair no longer as messy as it had been. He leaned over her until she dared open her eyes.

"How are we feeling this morning then, my little hare?"He asked, smirking quite attractively. No! She couldn't think of him like that. He was a snatcher, a follower of Voldemort, the enemy! Yet, she found herself gazing into his eyes. A handsome stormy colour seeming not to hold emotion, yet also holding something that she could identify as evil. Then she realized she had been staring into his eyes for a good few moments.

"S- Sorry," She stammered, her cheeks flushing a pale pink, and she hung her head. "I'm just not used to this..."

His hand reached forwards, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, brushing against her cheek briefly. Then he leaned backwards sitting on the bed. without a word, he drew his wand and muttered something inaudiable, and a bowl came flying towards them from the kitchen, the milk and cereal sloshing about as it landed on the bedside table, as spoon joining it.

"Eat." He ordered, and watched her as she picked up the spoon, first eating causiously then eating faster and faster. Within ten minutes, it was gone. He stood up, and walked to the entrance. When he was nearly there, he turned.

"Get dressed." Then he was gone, four large bags of gold grasped in his hands. The clearing was already full of his men, and he stood in the center, dropping the bags with a clatter. Everyone looked around, and shuffled forwards.

Scabior smirked at them, and emtied them all onto the ground. Then he counted all his group, including himself. 7. And there was a good amount of money. He began to split it. This took him over an hour, but after he had handed each snatcher their right amount, he returned to his tent, placing it all in a drawer. Hermione was sat on the bed a book open in her lap. She hadn't heard him enter, so he clearing his throat loudly. She jumped, and he strode over swiftly and sat next to her, not caring about the book.

She shied away from him, shifting over to the other end of the bed. He grabbed her firmly by the wrist, pulling her back, making sure she couldn't move.

"Now now, my little hare. No need to be scared." He smirked. She really was a beauty. A new type. He'd never seen anything like her before. Yes, she was a Mudblood, and he, Scabior, one of the most respected snatchers, was a Pureblood, but he couldn't help but lean forwards and place a kiss on her forehead. She instantly stopped shaking to his, and her own, supprise. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.