A/N: I wanted to take a different approach to the way Scabior would go for a girl, but I also didn't want to portray him out of character as a soft, sensitive type. I mean, come on - look at how he went for Hermione. He's got psychopathic tendencies, meaning a lack of remorse or empathy. He's a villain, but every villain has a bit of good in him. However deeply it may be buried. And in Scabior I imagine it's pretty fucking deep.

Mia resorted to sarcasm. She couldn't beat him physically but maybe she could beat him intellectually.

"I can promise you I won't enjoy it." Mia told him, her lip curling slightly.

Scabior looked at her mouth for a moment before leaning right in, "We'll see about that."

He slid a hand down over her stomach and inside her knickers, making her hips buckle instinctively.

"No-" Mia spluttered, her hands pushing at his chest.

"Don't pretend you don't love it." Scabior murmured against her neck, his fingers pushing their way inside her.

"Help!" Mia screamed out.

"No one's gonna hear you. You might as well just keep your mouth shut, unless you're asking for more." Scabior resided into chuckles.

"Get off! Help! Someone help me!" She shrieked, quickly becoming hysteric.

"I've never 'ad to force someone before." Scabior said in a quiet voice. This was so unexpected that Mia stopped screaming.

"You really don't want to?" Scabior's voice was uncertain and it was so out of character that Mia thought she had imagined it. She shook her head.

Scabior looked confused and clambered off of her, waving his wand which threw the tent into utter darkness.

Mia still couldn't believe it as he climbed into bed and turned towards her, patting the mattress in front of his stomach.

"Get in."

Mia shook her head

"Don't make me come and get ya." Scabior warned her darkly. This familiar tone of voice strangely put Mia more at ease.

She crawled down and faced away from him, her eyes still open and heart thudding painfully. Scabior wrapped an arm around her, "G'night."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"I've tried phoning her, just to see how she's getting on, you know, but her phone's dead."

"It's probably just the battery." Mia's Dad muttered, hitching his glasses further up his nose as his eyes swept over the crossword on his lap.

"John, are you not worried?" Mia's mother put a hand on her hip and stared him down until he removed his glasses and looked back up at her.

"Look, Mia's a big girl. She can look after herself, besides - what could possibly go wrong?" John gave her a withering look.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

As Mia rolled over in the middle of the night she knew something was wrong. She wasn't used to sleeping next to a warm lump. She had never slept with anyone else in her life. Gingerly opening her eyes, she focused them on the blurry sleeping form of Scabior. With a sharp churn of her stomach she then realised where she was. It was very unlike her dreams to last this long. Or nightmares. But there was that larger part of her mind which didn't want to admit this was real. This was happening.

He was faced away from her with a huge arm hanging off the edge of the bed. Mia had read enough fanfiction to know that escaping would not be an option. But the fanfiction wasn't real, was it? It was just what thousands of people had imagined Scabior to be like, in thousands of different ways. Maybe he wasn't actually a light sleeper. Maybe he was going to roll over and start snoring. Maybe he would mumble a name in his sleep. Maybe he was already awake and was waiting for her to make a move. All were equally possible.

Mia tried to play it cool and decided to ask him if she could go outside to pee, even though she didn't need to. If her intentions seemed innocent enough then he might just trust her. As Mia reached out to prod him on the shoulder she suddenly felt like she had on her very first date - nervous to the point of nausea. And beyond. Mia took her hand back, wiped the sweat of her palm, and prodded a little too sharply.

"Jesus-" Scabior half mumbled angrily, swinging his arm back over and rolling himself back on top of her. He chuckled, "Ah, I almost forgot you was 'ere."

Mia turned her head to one side and whispered hoarsely, "I need to-" coughed, and then continued, "need to pee."

Scabior seemed to contemplate this with his head to one side, eyeing her thoughtfully. Finally he spoke, touching her ear with his mouth, "Don't be long."

Outside, fog rolled over the ground in a sinister wave. Mia tried to see where she was going but lost her footing a few times on her way to a large tree on the other side of camp. Hugging her arms to herself, Mia glanced back at Scabior's tent and then edged over to the Werewolf's. Taking a broken branch from the edge of the dead fire, Mia poked her foot through the bottom of the tent gingerly. Relieved and all the more nervous at finding no defensive charm, she used the branch to lift one solitary tent flap aside and stepped in. The smell hit her first, like when you set something on fire in the oven and open the door. It was so foul that Mia had to breathe solely through her mouth, and even then she could taste it on her tongue. Sweat, dirt, musk, and the bitter tang of blood. Mia's eyes flitted from piles of dirty clothes to dead rabbit carcases to finally Greyback on the bed. If he was as light a sleeper as her dog then she was going to have some trouble searching for Alice. But where was she?

Creeping over to Greyback, she noticed a piece of ripped clothing half under him. It looked like Alice's t-shirt. Mia tried to piece together what might have happened. All she got was that, judging by the blood on the sheets, Greyback finished with her, fallen asleep, and Alice couldn't escape from the bed because he had fallen asleep on her top, so she wriggled out of it and made a run for the hills. This could be completely wrong but was the most likely solution, based on all the American police shows she had seen.

Before her favourite half-breed arose, Mia turned for the exit and ran.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Scabior sat in bed, smoking a very dry roll up and tracing the tattoo on his neck. It had been there for the best part of ten years but still held a strange pain to it that resonated along his whole spine. If he pressed it too hard then memories along with pain burnt through his mind. And as the last of his cigarette fell away in grey ash, he realised how long she had been gone. He didn't for one minute think that she would actually run. He didn't underestimate her intelligence that much. If she thought she actually had a chance then this whole cat and mouse game was about to become much more fun.

A/N: Slightly shorter chapter but I guess you guys might have wanted some of it.