Late that night, Scabior sat up wide awake in his room at the abandoned-power-plant-turned-prison. A candle was lit on his cluttered desk that gave a dim light to the rest of the room. He was sitting on the edge of his unmade bed with his head resting in his hands. He could not sleep.
Scabior felt absolutely rotten over the events that had transpired over the past six hours. He had never expected to come across anyone he knew as a Snatcher, nor had he expected to ever see such a significant figure from his past ever again. Scarlett Mitchell, of all people, had been the woman he ran after in the woods. She had been the one he had chosen to chase. She had been the one who lay struggling beneath him on the forest floor, never expecting to have him on top of her. He was still in utter shock and disbelief. It was torturing him that he had to hurt her.
He remembered their last night together at Hogwarts before they were to graduate. They sat talking on the lawn by the Great Lake so late that when they left, they could see the sun starting to rise. He held her hand all the while. Scarlett talked about her plans for the future. She would start working for the Auror's office in the middle of August, and was planning to tour Europe with her parents until then. She sounded so excited and happy, knowing exactly what she had wanted to do with her life. Scabior could have lain on that grass and listened to her talk for hours, smiling as she went on and on about what was to come. He, on the other hand, didn't have much of a plan for after he graduated. He didn't know what he wanted to do or where he wanted to work. Truthfully, he would have been very contented to follow Scarlett wherever she went. But instead, he took up a job in a shop in Knockturn Alley, and cannot remember his life being as happy since.
Three years later, when Scarlett had arrested him, he was reminded of just how different their lives really were. She looked more beautiful than he remembered, even when she placed him behind bars. Her green eyes, her long, wavy hair, and her creamy fair skin. He realized then that she didn't belong in his world. He had no claim on her anymore, as he once had when for seven years while they were but schoolchildren. Her life would never have arrived at the same place the he was currently at. She was so much better than that, and so much better than him. She deserved better than anything he could ever give her. Scarlett had let her fingers brush over his, much like he had today, when she locked him away.
"I'm not sorry," she had quietly said. "You've chosen your path, and I've chosen mine."
"Scarlett," he pleaded.
But she had left him there, rotting in a cell. Walked away from him for what she had probably thought was forever. Until tonight in the forest.
Scabior picked up a photograph that was beside him on his bed. It was of him and Scarlett, twirling around at the Yule Ball while they were in their fifth year, ten years ago. He had kept it all this time. They had gone as friends, and it was the most fun Scabior could remember having. She had looked absolutely lovely that night, wearing a strapless plum colored dress. Her hair, which was long even then, was in perfect ringlets. She smiled the whole entire night. They had danced well into the next morning, and she had even kissed him on the cheek when he had escorted her back to the Ravenclaw common room.
That was a very different time from where Scabior found himself now. It was much simpler. There was no war over good and evil, no combating powers, no conflict of any sort at all. There were just Hogwarts and Scarlett. That was all he had to worry about. He wished that that were all he had to worry about now. This was where his allegiance had been all along.
Scabior thought long and hard before he put on his traveling coat and shoved the photograph in his pocket. He took two wands from his desk – his and Scarlett's – and placed them in his pocket next to the photograph. He looked around the room, thinking of anything else that he would need to take with him, for he did not intend to return to this room ever again. He blew the candle out on his desk and left.
It was nearly two-thirty in the morning, and a bit chilly. He should have grabbed and extra cloak, but there would be no turning back and it was a little late for that now. He walked quickly across the grounds, and arrived at the door to the building that was Scarlett was detained in. Fenrir was keeping watch.
"I'm to relieve you from your post," Scabior said as he approached. "Yaxley's orders."
Fenrir did not protest, as Scabior knew that he wouldn't. "Good," he grumbled. "I'm bloody exhausted."
Fenrir stepped down from his post, and walked away into the mist of the night. Scabior waited five full minutes until after the werewolf had left, and then he waved his wand, unlocking the door to the building. He slowly opened it and closed it quickly behind him. He heard the sound of snoring coming from all around him. He walked to the end of the hall, to the cell in which he had earlier placed Scarlett.
"Scarlett," he breathed when he got to the bars of her cell. A little louder, he hissed, "Scarlett, are you awake?"
She crawled into the moonlight and stood up to be level with him. "Scabior," she whispered in surprise.
"Step back," he instructed her. "Please."
He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and began fumbling in the dark for the correct one. He found it and unlocked the door.
"What are you doing?" Scarlett asked, puzzled.
"Choosing a side," he responded. "Doing the right thing. Call it what you like. But come on, we haven't much time."
Scabior reached out his hand, and for a moment, he didn't think Scarlett would take it. She looked a bit wary and surprised, but a second later, her cold hand was in his grasp. He led her out of the cell and closed the door silently behind her.
"Come one, quietly," he whispered.
They walked to the end of the hall as silently as they could, closing the door behind them. It locked with a clank. Scabior didn't skip a beat. He continued to pull Scarlett behind him, and had his wand drawn in his other hand.
"Where are we going?" Scarlett whispered from behind him.
"You're to Apparate far away from here once we've broken through the enchantments. Go into hiding, go as far away as you can think of."
"And you?" Scarlett asked. "You're not coming with me? They'll know it was you that set me free."
Scabior had never thought that she would actually ask him to go with her. He had wanted to hear those words more than anything, but he never expected them.
"Are you sure you want me to?" he asked.
"Well you're going to need my Auror skills if you want to evade these blokes with any success," she said. "And two wizards together are much more powerful than one."
"Alright," Scabior agreed, trying to hide his pleasure. "We'll go together."
The two hurried quietly along across the grounds, Scabior still leading Scarlett by the hand, to a place from which they could Apparate.
"Now," Scabior explained, "when we break the protective boundaries, they're going to know. We'll only have a few moments, if that."
"What do we do?"
"Don't let go," he said firmly. "When I run, you run. We're nearly here."
The pair hastened another few steps, and then came to a stop. Scarlett could feel the magic of the barrier near her. Scabior raised his wand and muttered a few incantations under his breath. He then quickly pulled Scarlett behind him and began to run.
"Don't let go!" he called back to her as they ran.
Scarlett clenched tightly to his hand and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She then was suddenly plucked from where she was standing, twisted and contorted through darkness. She then hit the ground hard, and stood up and looked around, not releasing Scabior's hand. It was raining. He pulled her into what looked like a small cottage.
"Where exactly are we?" she asked.