Hey! Thanks everyone for being patient. I love you all. Enjoy and review.
I had to post the new chapter. I'm going to make some minor edits. Sorry in the mean time, but I had to let everyone know I didn't give up on this story.
Enjoy and review.
Val
When they had disappeared behind with a crackle, the front door burst open and bounced against the wall behind it. Scabior could see the large shadow of Fenir Greyback. His fist were balled and a frown on his brow. Scabior stood up straight and fixed the scarf around his neck. He looked like a prancer with his hands on his waist and the pink scarf around his skinny neck, but he didn't care at that point.
"Well?" Greyback spat.
"Well, wot?" Scabior answered attempting to remain calm, but the inflection in his voice gave away his hidden panic. Greyback's nostrils flared as he sniffed the air of the house and narrowed his eyes.
"Where's the other one?"
Scabior cleared his throat and pretended he had no idea the werewolf was speaking of. He had done this before. To be right hand to Cutting and avoid the eyes of the law you had to be a quick liar, but the law enforcement was a less intimidating than the vicious half breed, drooling and smelling of the stench of dog, sweat and blood.
"Wot other one?" He asked with a frown.
"I am not stupid, Scabior."
"I didn' say ya were."
"So where is he?"
"Who?"
"Wolfie!"
"You're the wolf 'round 'ere."
"You bloody prat!" Greyback barked, stepping closer and closer to him. As much as he wanted to get away from the beast, he knew if he moved back that would be a sign of weakness. "Your nose is bleedin', Wolfie is missing and I can smell them. They were here."
"They took Wolfie prisoner. I tried to fight 'em, but they overpowered me." Scabior shrugged nonchalantly. He could've kicked himself. He shouldn't be so casual about this. This wasn't anything to be casual about. One of his men was kidnapped and he's shrugging it off. He cursed himself. Greyback's look softened for a brief moment. His lips curled to bear his yellow sharpened teeth.
"I figured as much. That's why I called reinforcements."
Scabior's stomach lurched forward. Reinforcements, like who? He hoped it would be Ducky Rosewood and not who he thought. His gloved hand curled and his fingers cracked. A light sweat coated his palms, but his face remained expressionless.
"Why?" he asked, perhaps too quickly.
"Why not?"
"Er, well—I mean it is a little too soon to call reinforcements, don' ya think?"
"Do you know how long I had been squatting out there? Two bloody hours, Scabior. They should be arriving soon."
"Who will be arrivin'?" Before his sentence finished crossing the tip of his tongue, two crackles echoed outside of the cottage. Scabior swallowed thickly. His stomach rumbled and the strong taste of bile stung his throat and watered his eyes, but he pushed it back.
"Lumos." A rumbled voice spoke.
Lights from the tip of two wands illuminated the room. He saw a strong face, and chocolate brown hair that reached to hover above his broad shoulders. The other was skinnier with messy thick hair past his chin and a narrower pointed face. The Lestrange brothers. Scabior cursed under his breath the closer they came to him and Greyback. The half breed stood at attention like a soldier to his superior while Scabior thought his knees would give up on him. He toyed with the idea of playing dead like a possum. He had enough Lestrange for his lifetime. Rodolphus and Bellatrix were the two short tempered who were known to getting the job done no matter how many bodies had piled up by the end of the day.
"What is it, Greyback? You disturbed my dinner." Rodolphus said, crossing his arms.
"Apologies." Greyback said with a small bow. He was careful with every word he spoke. "Scabior would know better than I."
Rodolphus stared blankly at him and his hazel eyes scanned over Scabior. "Well?" he said after a moment or two.
Scabior opened his mouth when he saw Rodolphus flick his wand. Scabior flinched as the light around the home lit the empty space.
"What are you so jumpy about?" Rodolphus asked, looking down at him. Scbaior placed his hands in his pocket. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
"Nothin'. I ain't nervous."
Rodolphus narrowed his eyes and lunged at him with a balled fist. Scabior instinctively stepped back and the two brothers laughed. "You seem it." Rodolphus said, pulling out a Diablo cigar. The two men were so close he could see the gold imprint near the mouth of the cigar.
"Nervous, I mean." He added, lighting the cigar with the tip of his wand. He exhaled smoke in Scabior's face. The younger man's jaw cracked as he attempted to keep his thoughts to himself.
"Well? Someone better have a decent enough excuse for disturbing my dinner." He said. Scabior looked at Greyback. His dark eyes stared forward and Scabior cleared his throat.
"The erm—blood traitors-"
"What were their names?" Rodolphus asked.
"I don't remember." Scabior said, shrugging his shoulders. Rodolphus raised a skeptical eyebrow and took a step closer to him.
"You don't remember?"
"Nope."
"Don't you have a list?"
Scabior could feel the parchment against his chest tucked in his jacket pocket, but he dared not even reach for it. He shook his head. It was evident he was lying. Every head Snatcher for every team was provided a list.
Rodolphus brought his spare hand to his beard and scratched his chin. "Well, what happened then?" His voice was growing sterner and short.
"They overpowered me and now I 'ave a broken rib and a broken nose." He lied. Rodolphus reached toward Scabior and pinched the bone of his nose with a gloved. Scabior held his breath and squeezed his eyes and made a small exaggerated noise. It was sore, but not as much as he implied.
"It doesn't seem broken. Did you heal it yourself?"
"Yes. Yes that's wot I did, sir."
"Did you? Really? You said you broke your nose."
"Broke. Past tense, sir."
"Interesting." Rodolphus dismissed. "Which rib did you say you broke?"
Scabior looked at Greyback when Rodolphus snapped his fingers. "He's not asking you the questions, is he? Look at me, both eyes." He waited till Scabior's eyes were on him to continue. "Which rib did you say you broke?"
Scabior pointed to the left side of his ribs. Rodolphus inspected the area and raised an eyebrow. Rabastan chuckled, but Scabior didn't dare look at him. He couldn't. If he did, he would be found to be a liar.
"You seem pretty fine for a broken rib. You would be in an awful amount of pain."
"I-"
"Listen, you little shit," Rodolpuhs said in a flat clam tone. "I'm not stupid. I wasn't born just yesterday. I know the difference between bullocks and the truth."
"I reckon you're not so bright after all." Scabior slipped out. Greyback looked nervously at me and Rabastan gave me a look like I had lost my mind, but he continued. "Because I don't know wot ya talkin' 'bout—"
Rodolphus grabbed his throat between his large index, middle finger and his thumb. Scabior began to panicked. He struggled to breathe and fought back the pain of his larynx getting crushed in the stronger man's grip. Scabior grabbed his wrist, but it only made his grip stronger.
"You could've made this easy, but you brought this upon yourself." He squeezed harder and Scabior gasped. His already sore knees fell to the floor and his eyes filled with tears. "Maybe you need to be brought down a peg or two. Perhaps I should end your miserable life here."
Rodolphus spoke slowly and stared at the ember of his cigar as he spoke before looking into his eyes. There was nothing left in them. Not the slightest bit of humility. It scared him although it shouldn't. He was staring into the eyes of death, and he felt as if he slowly leaving his body. His lids were growing heavy, but he was fighting so hard to live. He had to keep fighting, but he was losing strength second by second.
"Are you ready to tell the truth?" He asked. Scabior nodded. "Hm?" Rodolphus asked again. Scabior mouthed a 'yes' and gasped for air. Rodolphus waited for a few seconds before letting go of his throat. Scabior gasped and coughed onto the floor, spitting and blinking away tears. The top of his head seared with pain, but brought him to his feet.
"Now," Rodolphus said casually, holding Scabior by the strands of his tangled hair. His eyes burned with tears that he was holding back and his throat was swollen and he could barely breathe except through his aching nose. "We're going to try this once more." He said, placing the cigar between his lips and exhaling smoke into Scabior's face. His eyes burned even more than before, but he forced them open.
"Alright." He croaked.
"Do you know the names of the blood traitors?"
Another cloud of smoke entangled itself in Scabior's lungs. He coughed and nodded his head. "Yea'." He croaked through a cough.
"What were their names?"
"They've been taken care of, sir."
Rodolphus sighed. Before Scabior could comprehend his head was jerked to the wall to the side of him a few times until Scabior's head was ringing and the room became blurred. Warm and sticky mess fell from his nose and down into his open mouth. He could hear someone cackle.
"You're gonna kill him, Roddy."
"He isn't my kin."
"And if he was?"
"Oh well. He shouldn't hold back information."
Scabior figured the other voice was Rabastan. His eyes glanced up at Rodolphus again. His gray-blue orbs were glassy and red.
"Don't you even think of passing out on me." Rodolphus said. Smoke fell from his nostrils and Scabior forced himself to gather any consciousness left within him. "What were their names?"
Scabior couldn't give up Anya and Colt. His gut was telling him that they were blood traitors. Anya shouldn't have tried to face the enemy. She should've been taking care of his son and waiting for him to arrive. He should've found them earlier. He made up some excuse for the months he had been out of his cell. He wanted to gather enough money to buy his boy some toys, clothes, food, anything he would need. He would have without any hesitation. He had enough money, but he hadn't bought one toy. He hadn't even passed by a toy store as many times as he's walked through Diagon Alley. He would walk down the dingy streets with enough galleons jingling in his pocket. He'd hear the sounds of the same toy store he would pass by as a child, but he dared not go near it.
He remembered pressing his nose to the window and begged Capucine for one toy. Depending on how good money was she would oblige. Most times they would simply look and he'd spend hours dreaming of buying a special toy he made a connection with. Then it would be time to go. He felt an immense guilt. Maybe Colt felt the same way when Anya took him to the toy store. Once the guilt became too heavy, he'd spend that galleon money on several drinks.
"Arsehole!" Anya screamed at him, throwing a full bottle of whiskey at his head. Scabior dodged it and it shattered on the wall. Chibs was chirping and screaming from the commotion and Little Baby scratched at the door.
"I said I would give ya money to get rid of it!" Scabior screamed back at her. "You stupid bitch, what did ya spend tha' money on?"
"I didn't spend it on anything! Don't you want to be part of this?" Her black eyeliner was smearing and fell down her face and her hair was untamed and uncombed. She had been silent and in distress for several days. Then she told him the news. He could've gone his whole life without knowing this. "This is our child. We can be a family. Little Baby, Chibs, you, me—"
"I don' want ya fuckin' baby!"
"I DIDN'T HAVE THIS BY MYSELF!"
"'ow do I even know it's mine?" Scabior shrugged and coldly smirked at her. He wasn't sure if she had slept around. She wasn't the type, but he was desperately trying to grasp on the life he once had. Where he could come and go and not have to worry about a possibly fat Anya and an annoying screaming baby.
"YOU SON OF A-" She barely finished her sentence before she was charging at him. She weighed ninety pounds and could barely hold her own against him. He held her hands to keep her from hitting him. She fought hard, but she wasn't going to beat him.
"Stop it!" He screamed at her. "Get the fuck out!"
"This is my home too!"
"I bough' this flat. You can get yer arse out!"
"You can't make me."
Scabior picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. He carried her down the stairs and ignored her weak punches and scratches at his back as he made his way down the stairs, through the door and tossed her on the dirty street. It was dark and windy already. Regardless he turned his back to her and slammed the door shut. He didn't know if she had her wand. He didn't care. He heard a crackle of thunder and used his wand to draw the curtains. He placed a cigarette to his mouth, lit it with the tip of his wand and grabbed a half empty bottle of whiskey and drank from it. He ignored the thumps on the door and listened to the sounds of the rain.
"Can you hear me?" Rodolphus said, snapping his fingers.
"Must've passed out." Fenir added. Scabior opened his eyes halfway. Rodolphus glared at him and looked back down at Scabior's crumpled body. Rabastan kicked his boot lightly into his ribs until the youngest of the four began to stir.
"'How long was I out fer?" Scabior asked rubbing his head.
"About a minute." Rabastan answered. Rodolphus gave him a sharp look. "What? He asked a question." Rabastan said defensively.
"Ready to begin again?" Rodolphus asked, ignoring Rabastan.
"Yeah…" Scabior couldn't breathe through his nose any longer and his head felt like it had been hit by a dragon's tail. He could use a drink or two. It had been a long night.
"What's their names?"
"Ivory. That's all I remember that was on the list. Ivory 'arson."
"Really?" Rodolphus asked raising his eyebrows. Scabior cursed to himself. His right eye twitched with pain. He fucked up again. "Well, while you were enjoying your nap time, I did a little snooping."
"Shit." He mumbled.
"That's what I said." Rabastan added.
Rodolphus reached into his robes and read the list out loud. He emphasized every name and syllable.
"Marcy Castillo." He read, circling around Scabior. Scabior reached into jacket for his wand, but Rabastan had his wand pointed to his temple.
"William McKinney."
His eyes scanned the area for any possible exits, but he was dead no matter how fast he tried to run. No one could deflect a Killing Curse.
"Natalie Parker, Demetri Holland, Daniel Hallway, Betty Clark."
"Okay, okay. I'll tell ya wot ya wanna know."
"Ssh, ssh, ssh." Rodolphus said pressing his finger to his mouth before taking a drag of his cigar and exhaling a cloud of smoke. "It's impolite to talk when someone is reading out loud." Scabior looked up at Greyback. The werewolf leaned against the wall, growling every so often.
"Audrey Clobb, Ivory Sweets-Harson—Well, you got one. I'd say one out of twenty is pretty bad, but there's someone on this list you might like to know."
"No." Scabior said shaking his head.
"Yes." Rodolphus nodded. "Anya Salvatore Molyneux. Her crimes range from drawing political cartoons of us. I remember reading about her. She got my facial structure right, but I didn't appreciate the caveman hair and my nose isn't that Roman. However, I did find out your last name is Molyneux too." Scabior was growing angrier by the second.
"No, it's not." Scabior lied.
"Tsk, tsk." Rodolphus patronized. "You are a terrible liar, Snatcher. Now, what relation is she to you and don't lie. You know why I served fourteen years in that wretched Azkaban cell? Hm? Do you?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
"Torturin' the Longbottoms, yeah, I know the story."
"Oh good! Then you know it could happen to you just as easily. Maybe I should give you a sample."
Before Scabior could protest the most overwhelming pain took over his body. He didn't hear, he didn't see, all he could do was feel dreaded, sharpened, heated knives piercing into every part of his body. Seconds of what seemed like hours, the curse stopped. He caught his breath and opened his watery eyes. Then another wave of pain hit him, but this one did not last as long.
"Stop! Stop! Please!" Scabior screamed.
"Then you better start spilling some truth. What happened, boy?"
His heart was beating out of control. Bellatrix couldn't concentrate her anger. She just radiated it, unlike her husband. The calculating, calm ones he feared more than the taunting bullies.
"M-my wife and I-Ivory, they stunned us. M-me and Wolf, I mean." He tripped over every word as if he was going to cry. He wanted to save his own life, but spare the lives of his wife and son as well.
"Ah, that's cute. Your wife stunned you? The last time my wife stunned me was during our honeymoon." Rodolphus smirked. Greyback looked at him as if he couldn't decide if he was being facetious or he was serious. Regardless Scabior continued breathlessly.
"Th-they tied us up and Wolfie decided to leave wit' 'is wife. I don' know where they went."
"How did you get untied?"
"I 'onestly don' remember."
"Crucio."
Scabior screamed so loud it felt as if it bounced off the wall and struck him in the face. His limbs began to grow spastic and his whole body ached.
"How did you get untied?" Rodolphus asked again, just as calmly.
"They untied me!"
"Why?"
"I don' know."
"Cru—"
"No!" Scabior said. "I convinced 'em to do so. I was gonna turn 'em in. I swear."
"I have no reason to believe you, kid." Rodolphus spat.
"I swear. I don' know where they are. I don'."
"I don't believe that."
"It's truth, I swear it-"
Rodolphus raised his wand, but stopped suddenly. Rabastan ripped his sleeve up and stared at his Dark Mark writhing on his forearm.
"We have to go." Rabastan said urgently. Scabior thought Rodolphus was sure to kill him. Leading Snatchers were few and far between, and he couldn't risk the backlash of disrupting progress for the Dark Lord. Rodolphus growled and kicked Scabior in the stomach and pulled him up by his hair. Scabior didn't have the energy to back away, he barely had the energy to open his eyes.
"Do your job, Snatcher. And never disrupt my dinner again." He slammed his head back on the floor and with that both men apparated quickly, leaving the two lowly Snatchers alone. Scabior covered his stomach as if they would come again. His whole body ached and he could barely keep his eyes open. Greyback snickered at him, but Scabior didn't care. He didn't have the strength to fight him. His back hunched as he stood on his feet and made his way toward the front door.
"Do I get my payment?" Greyback asked.
Scabior ignored him and dragged his feet closer to the door. His mind was in a fumble and he couldn't focus on one single thought. He heard Greyback mumble under his breath and his rumbly growls rang in his ears.
"I better have my payment."
Scabior looked up at him blankly. "Fuck off." He said, opening the door and apparating with a crackle. His body was in agony. Where else could he go to relieve it? It hurt to lift his arm to heal it and he always fucked something up, there were too many muggle sympathizers in St. Mungos. He was back to square one in his agony. He had to heal himself the old fashioned way. He apparated to the pub, forcing him on the stool and ordered several shots of whiskey to dull his roaring senses.
He finished six shots in nearly three minutes. His head ceased its pounding and he could move his limbs without much trouble. A few minutes and several shots later he was getting drunker and drunker. He wanted to forget his fault, his run in with the Lestrange's, Colt, Anya, his mother. He wanted to never remember a single thing about his past. He should've had the amnesia, not Anya. When he was inside his cell, he wanted his family. He wanted to watch his son walk on curled toes and open arms toward him. He wanted to rub Anya's feet and fuck her between Colt's naps.
It was sexier when they had to be quiet.
The sad truth was as the days turned into months, his memory of them disappeared with the new yesterdays. Sometimes Anya had blue eyes, black or green. Colt's face changed from chipmunk cheeks to a sickly appearance. With his memory fading, he missed them less. It was easier to have never seen them again. He remembered them as they were and vice versa. His son wouldn't have to look at him as the criminal he had become. They were better off without him.
He was drunk by an hour's time. He kept drinking to ease the pain in his body and consciousness. He wrapped his hand around another shot and downed it in one swift gulp. A woman brushed past his seat. She had short hair, dingy brown and she was so skinny he could hold her thigh in one hand. Regardless, she began to look sexy in his state. He tried to stand up when he nearly fell against a bigger man.
"Oi!" The man growled. "Watch where you walk, boy!" The man growled. Scabior finished his shot and burped before speaking. The man looked familiar. He was bald, large man, smelled of cheap cigars, but sincere eyes.
"Well maybe if ya weren' so fuckin' fat ya wouldn'-Cutter?" Scabior slurred and swayed.
The man frowned at him and his look softened, but he still didn't look happy to see him.
"Come here." He said pulling him by the arm roughly. Scabior reached in his pocket and threw a couple galleons on the pub counter.
"Aren't ya 'appy to see me?"
"I am—No, did you see your family?"
"Wot?" Scabior burped, leaning on his old friend.
"I'll take that as a no, come on."
Scabior narrowed his eyes at him. He struggled to stand on his feet, but he fell forward. Cutter caught him with a large arm and forced him back up on his feet. "Wot 'appened?"
"It's not what happened, it's—" Cutter cut himself off. He looked over his shoulder and motioned Scaboior to come along.
"Move. Quickly."
"Why?" Cutting asked as he looked at the mutton pie. Scabior shrugged his shoulders.
"Wot do ya mean?" Scabior asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Charlie's mum Nell dropped it off fer ya." Scabior smiled.
"Ah, Nellie's pies." Cutting said, rubbing his hands together. He smiled in delight. "Have a bite, son."
"No, sir." Scabior said. His stomach turned at the thought. "Anya already fed me. Enjoy, sir."
"You're missing out." He said, taking out his knife and cutting his first slice into the pie. Scabior watched closely as he plunged his fork into the tender meat and devoured it bit by bit.
"Holy mother of Merlin," Cutting sighed. He had that look on his face that every chef dreams of, the look of pure satisfaction and heaven as they eat from their plate. "This is wonderful. Are you sure you want none of this amazing pie? You're missing something really great."
"I'm sorry to miss out, sir. But I'll 'ave to pass." Scabior said politely as another juicy bite disappeared into Cutting's mouth.
"You don't know what you're missing." Cutting said. Scabior watched him nearly eat a quarter of the pie before Scabior had enough. This was wonderful. He couldn't stop grinning and by then he was sure he looked like an idiot.
"What?" Cutting asked.
"Nothin' sir, nothin'." Scabior said, dipping his top half of his body to him before leaving. He bit his tongue to hold in a cackle.
"Are you sure?"
"Yea'." Scabior said as he tried to stand after falling into the dirty cobble stone road. Cutter picked him up by his limp, skinny arms and held him up again.
"Cutter, where's Anya?"
Cutter didn't say anything. He mumbled under his breath and pulled him along. Scabior bumped shoulders and arms with passing wizards. Some ignored it, others made snide comments.
"Filthy drunkard." One wizard said.
"Suck my arse!" Scabior said back to the rude passerby. Cutter led him along quickly before the thick and bigger looking wizard took out his wand.
"Idiot." Cutter said. "Keep your mouth shut."
They reached a rickety, old apartment in the darkest realms of Knockturn. It seemed like an absurd concept that there would be a "bad" side to Knockturn and there was very few who were brave enough to travel there alone.
"Here." Cutter said, standing Scabior up. He leaned against the grimy apartment as Cutter knocked on the door. Scabior's glazy eyes looked around the area. He couldn't keep his vision focused. All he heard were murmurs and a woman speaking in a foreign tongue. His head rolled to the side and the door was open. It was surrounded in darkness except for one small candle lit in a woman's hand. She looked at him with narrowed dark eyes. Her skin was waxy and deep wrinkled under the light. She mumbled at him in Russian. Regardless of her creepy, horror book appearance he moved forward.
"Family." He slurred, pointing to the darkness. "I came to see my family."
She made a grunting noise and reached into her robes to retrieve her wand. The tip of her wand lit up and she mumbled once again. Scabior shook his head. "I 'ave no idea what yer sayin', ma'am." He sighed. "Anya. Colt." He said.
Her look softened, but the Russian continued rambling. She directed her wand towards a staircase in the far corner of the room behind the woman. Scabior pointed up the staircase.
"Anya, there?" He asked. She nodded and mumbled in Russian. He turned to Cutter who looked at him with cold distance.
"Is it okay?"
Cutter nodded and turned his back to walk away. Scabior stayed as far away from the woman as possible to get to the stairs. He wrapped his hand around the banister and tripped his way up the stairs. The farther he came up the stairs. He could see a light coming from a room. He dragged his feet and stuck close to the wall as he made his way. He didn't know why he pressed himself to the wall like a distressed spider, but through his hazy mind it seemed to make sense.
He heard a little boy's small voice whisper: "I'm sick of running, mummy."
"I know, darling." Anya's voice said. He peered into the room through the cracked door. Colt was laid on a cot and Anya lay next to him, stroking his brown hair. Her long black hair draped over her shoulder. "The final battle is coming. We'll win. Then we'll go to the beach. I promise you."
"Is the funny man my daddy?"
"Who?"
"The man with the weird hair, mummy."
"Colt-"
"He looks weird."
"Colt-"
"He looks like me, but weirder. Is he my daddy?"
Anya sighed and kissed his forehead. "Yes, darling."
"Where was he? How come he isn't running with us?"
Anya was quiet for a few moments. "Sometimes people do things with the right intention, but it's the wrong thing to do. Do you understand?"
"What's intention mean, mummy?"
"A plan or action."
"Oh." Colt's breathing evened after a few minutes and his eyes started to flutter shut. Scabior wanted to hug him goodnight or explain to him what he did to deserve any time in Azkaban. As much as he tried to ignore it, he was his son. His bottom lip stiffened, but he dared not move.
"Can daddy teach me to play Quidditch?"
Anya nodded and kissed his head. "Ask him, but for now sleep. Goodnight, Colt."
"Goodnight, mummy." Anya blew out his candle and stood up. Scabior could feel his eyes burn and the lump in his throat grew. He couldn't believe himself. He was crying over his son wanting him to teach him to play Quidditch. It was a task so simple, but it meant the world to him. Of course he would teach him to play Quidditch. He would teach him, but what position would he play? Scabior stepped away from the door and turned around. He bit his lip and tried to coach himself not to cry.
"Don' ya cry, ya bastard." He muttered out loud. "If ya cry, yer not a man." He bit his tongue to keep the tears at bay. He placed his hand over his eyes and sniffled.
"What are you doing?" Anya snapped through a loud whisper. He felt her walk closer to him and her accusing eyes placed on his back.
Scabior pretended as if he didn't hear her as he tried to push the tears back.
"Nothin'." He responded. "I-I got dust in my eyes. I was gettin' it out." He wiped his eye with the back of his gloved hand. "See, better."
"What the hell do you want?" Anya asked, frowning at him. Scabior turned around and stroked her cheek.
"Anya." He said. "I came to talk to ya. Yer wot I thought 'bout when I was locked up."
Anya turned her head away. "It's too late for that. I can't."
"Anya."
"Scabior-"
He pulled her by her hips and felt the soft skin under her undershirt. Anya pushed him back, holding her arms on his chest and pushed him away.
"Scabior, stop!" She snapped. "We can be together as parents, but that part of our lives is over."
"No, it's not."
Anya's head ducked down to her chest. Only her eyes would look into his. She scanned around the room and sighed.
"Yes, it is. It was over the minute you were locked up in Az-"
"I thought you were wit' me to the end." Scabior said, brushing wisps of black hair behind her ear. She turned her head away from him and hit his hand with the back of hers. "Ya took vows, ya know?"
"When have you ever taken our vows seriously?" Anya folded her arms. "You didn't take it seriously when you slept with every other whore that gave you a glimpse of her knockers. I don't know what you have anyway. Sod off."
"I don' 'ave anything. There's potions and charms fer tha'!" He should know. He took a potion only a week or so ago.
"Sod off."
"No." He ran his fingers down her shoulders leaving behind a trail of goose bumps.
"Scabior, stop!"
"Anya." He placed his hands on either side of her face. He pressed his forehead to hers and kissed her nose.
"You smell like whiskey." She grumbled.
"I'm a li'le drunk."
"You're always a little drunk." She sighed heavily through her nose and let his lips touch hers. He ran his hands through her hair, pressing his body against her pelvis. Scabior picked her up under her bum, never letting his lips leave hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He walked toward Colt's bedroom and she shook her head.
"No. Colt is in there."
"So?"
"So, we're not going to have sex in front of our child. What if he wakes up? He'll be scarred for life."
"I walked in on my mum and Rooster. At least we both aged well and our bodies are still firm."
"Stop it." Anya said, looking around the room. "Erm…"
Scabior nodded toward the room behind him. "In there. Wot 'bout there."
"No, no." Anya shook her head. "That's not our room."
"The bathroom!" Scabior said, moving to the side.
"I don't want to do it in the bathroom. People shit in there and it echoes."
"I can' 'old ya forever! Make up ya mind."
"Alright, alright." She said. "We'll go into Colt's room, but you have to be quiet."
"I'm quiet, yer the loud one."
"Arse." She said as he placed her on the floor. She held her index finger on her lips and opened the door slowly. She peeked into the room and heard Colt breathing softly.
"Take off your shoes." She said.
"Why?"
"So you don't track mud and make noise."
"Fine." He said leaning forward to untie his boots. He unlaced one and stood on one foot to pull it off. His vision blurred and he fell to the side catching himself on the wall to the right of him.
"SSSSH!" Anya hushed him again.
"Sorry!"
He took off the other one and left it by the door and closed it softly. He pulled off his scarf, jacket, vest and shirt.
"Merlin, why do you wear so many layers?" she asked, unfolding her blanket on her cot.
"I live in the fuckin' wood. What do ya think?"
She shrugged her shoulders and prepared her cot. She placed the blanket on top and fluffed the pillows. She slipped under the blanket and waited for him patiently. Although her bed was on the farther corner, she looked over every so often to see Colt once again.
"Be quiet, do you understand?"
"Duh. I know." He said.
Anya nodded and did her best to scoot as far on the edge to make room for him.
"I won' be able to fit."
"It doesn't matter. You're going to be on top."
"Why can' you be on top?" Scabior whined. "Why do I 'ave to do all the work?"
"Why are we arguing about this? Do you want to have sex or not?"
"I do!" He sat on the edge of the cot and slipped his legs under the blanket. Half of his body was hanging off the edge and his feet could plant itself on the floor.
"Well?" Anya said looking at him.
"Well, wot?"
"Aren't you going to go at it?"
"Ya took a year to get ready, I 'ave to warm up again."
"Well, warm up."
"Ya can' just turn it on when ya want, Anya." She rolled her eyes. "The attitude is not 'elping anything. It's penis repellant."
"Great Merlin, give me strength." Anya rolled on her side and ran her fingers down his chest and dipped her fingers into his trousers and back again. "Better?"
"Keep goin'." He said.
Her hands were halfway down his abdomen when she touched the top of his flaccid member.
"You still don't like wearing undergarments?" She asked shaking her head.
"Do ya still wear sweaters in the summer?"
"Hush." She said, pulling him into a kiss. His hands ran down her neck, stopping to pull the strap of her gown to reveal one of her breast and running his finger along her nipple.
Colt made a noise and she removed her hands and quickly pulled up her gown. She leaned forward to check on him and sighed with relief.
"Okay." She said. "Continue."
Scabior pulled her hair off her pale thin shoulders and kissed down her neck, running his tongue in small circles.
"Switch positions." Anya said. The two of them tried to move the same direction at once and then the other direction. They fumbled and bumped into each other like first years on broomsticks.
"Move your leg." Scabior said to her as his knee hit something hard.
"Ouch. Your knee is on my leg."
"Sorry."
"I think you bruised it."
"I said sorry."
"Never mind, I'm fine."
"Okay." Scabior checked behind him and pushed her gown up to feel the skin beneath her. Instead of the soft warm skin he had looked forward to, he felt cotton material.
"Fuck, I forgot to take these off."
"'ow do you forget?"
"Shut up. I can take them off." She said reaching under her gown and wiggling her hips to remove them off her hips. She stretched and pulled at them, kicking her legs.
"Precious cargo!" Scabior exclaimed as one knee came close to his erect member.
"Ssssh! Sorry, goddamn it!"
Scabior sighed and reached for his jacket, pulling his knife out of his pocket. He slipped it between her skin and the material. "Don't move." He said ripped the material on both ends and tossed it to the side.
"There." He said, putting it in his jacket.
"I don't have a lot of those!"
"I'll buy ya new ones. Don' worry 'bout it."
She sighed and pulled him into a kiss. His hands found her warm skin and gently stroked her. She moaned against his mouth as his fingers slipped inside of her. Her gasps became louder with every pump of his strong hand.
"Sssh." He said.
"Sorry."
He trailed kisses down her neck and chest, lifting up her gown and ducking between her legs. She pulled the blanket over his head as he licked along the outside of her wet folds until he reached her nub.
Under the blanket it was hot and left little room to breathe. He moved the blanket enough to let some light and cool air through. Anya quickly moved the blanket again.
"Stop it, Anya." He said moving the blanket.
"I don't want Colt to see."
"But I can' fuckin' breathe!"
"Forget it then!" Anya sighed throwing her arms up in the air.
Scabior exhaled heavily through mouth and came up from the blanket. "This isn't sexy."
"We can go to sleep then."
He shook his head. "I'll make it quick." He missed the old days when they could screw where they wanted. The kitchen counter, the kitchen floor, her bedroom, the bathtub, the walls, the living room sofa, the closet, the park. As he thought he wondered why the hell he was in a hurry to get back to see her with their kid blindly stepping in front of his access to Anya.
He crawled back up on top of her and pressed his head into her opening before pushing into her. She was still tight and warm just as he remembered her. He moaned against her neck, pumping into her slowly at first. She shuddered against his ear.
"Merlin…" She whispered, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Since he wasn't worried about her pleasure it was quick enough. He only needed a good minute to get his bearings and another minute to reach his point.
Colt moved in his bed and she whispered for him to stop. Scabior froze and looked over his shoulder. Colt turned his back to them and snored softly. Wonderful, he had to start all over again. He started again this time getting to his half way point when Colt moved again.
"God damn it." He mumbled stopping again, waiting for any sign for him to be awake.
"Okay." Anya nodded.
"Remember when I said ya can' just stop and start it? Muggles call this orgasm denial."
"I'm sorry. He keeps moving."
"Let me fuckin' finish. It's startin' to 'urt." It made the sex better to stop and start again in a masochistic way. It kept building and stopping and adding and stopping. He squeezed his eyes tightly and his pace picked up. The cot creaked with his movements and the two of them moaning and sighing together, it felt like old times. He gripped her thighs with the friction. He cursed under his breath as the tension was building. He was on the verge, this was it.
"Stop-" Anya said.
It was too late. He came into her with his head on her chest, taking one of her exposed breasts in his mouth. He was lost in his own orgasm that he didn't pay attention to the sounds he was making and he didn't care until he heard a small voice say.
"Mummy?"
"Shit." Scabior said into her chest.
"Sweetheart?" Anya said sweetly.
"What are you doing?" Scabior didn't want to look. He had the drunken notion that if he remained absolutely still and kept his eyes closed, Colt wouldn't see him.
"Nothing, sweetheart. Daddy and I were just… hugging."
"Is daddy sleeping?"
"No. He's just smelling mummy's new perfume."
Anya hit him on the back of the head. Scabior looked up at him and smiled. Colt blinked at him and turned his back to them falling asleep again.
"Shit." Scabior said. Pulling out of her and zipping up his trousers.
"He might not remember it." Anya rationalized, pulling her gown down. "Sometimes he sleepwalks. He hasn't done anything dangerous, but he'll sometimes go into my room and try to play with his toys."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah, it's cute. We lived in a flat and I always lock the door so he can't get outside and accidentally hurt himself. But you used to do the same sometimes."
"I did?"
"Yep. You would try to cook or do spells with a whiskey bottle. Fairly harmless things and you snore."
"I do not."
"Yes, you do. Like the Hogwarts Express whistle."
"Well, ya talk in yer sleep."
"You're an active sleeper. I don't know how you became a Snatcher."
Scabior moved his sleeping spot from the cot to the floor and wrapped his jacket around himself.
"Why are you down there?" Anya asked.
"'Cause I want to sleep."
"You can sleep here."
"Not without a backache. Goodnight, Anya."
She leaned forward to kiss him and ran her hand down his chin. "Goodnight, Snatcher."
It was a couple of minutes of silence later when Scabior's eyes were becoming heavily and he was drifting off to sleep, he felt a sharp pressure in his ribs.
"Scabior?"
"Huh?" He said, opening one eye to see Anya staring at him with her perfect foot poking him. He took her foot in his hand and ran his fingers up and down the top to her shin. "We need to talk."
Scabior blinked up at her. "'bout wot?"
"About this."
"Wot's this?"
"Us."
"Wot 'bout us."
She sighed and motioned him closer. He grumbled under his breath and pushed his tired body toward her. She spoke barely above a whisper.
"I know I was on your list."
"Obviously."
"I am constantly moving from shelter to shelter. The battle will be over soon, but depending on which side will win-"
"No matter wot, I'm gonna take care of you and Colt. I love both of ya."
"You say that, but if it came down to your life or ours, who would you pick?"
"Anya." He grumbled. "I would try to save all our lives. I told ya I would protect you."
She smirked at him and shook her head. "I'm not blind. I know what you all do to men, women, children-" She stopped herself before shoving her hair over her shoulder. "I shouldn't be sleeping with you. Who knows how many muggleborns and blood traitors you raped-"
"Stop it."
"Why? If the truth hurts, you'll always be in pain."
"Wotever I did, I did it for you."
Anya pushed herself up on her elbows. "For me? You raped and killed for me? Since You-Know-Who released you, did you try to look for me? Did you even care? Can you look me in the eyes and say that you've only did your job? That you've never hurt another woman or anyone intentionally."
He was going to lie. He was going to look into her brown eyes and say he'd never done such a thing. It was an obvious lie, but he didn't want to lose her. What harm could it do if she didn't know? But then he thought of that mudblood wearing a similar perfume to hers, but he thought it was her. If he didn't find out it was Harry Potter in time, would he have continued? She looked about sixteen or seventeen, but it was her scent—Anya's scent. He was desperate. He had to rationalize his point of view or else he would seem criminal to her. It was of no use, Anya had her opinions that weren't changing.
"Wot does this 'ave to do wit' anything?"
"Everything." She emphasized. "How can I be a fighter for everyone else against him when I'm fucking a snatcher?"
"Ya didn't resist too much when I was shaggin' ya."
"You are the father of my child-"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything. Ya think yer better than me, but ya sure wanted to get shagged so badly."
"Piss off."
"Not to fun when the question is flipped 'round on ya, is it?"
"I can't ignore this."
"Then I'll leave. I still want to see my son."
"When we win this war, we'll see. I'll make sure you never see your son again."
Scabior narrowed his eyes at her. He wanted to slap her around, but he couldn't risk causing a stir and also waking up Colt.
"I wouldn' get too cocky. And besides not even Azkaban can keep me away from wot's mine." He dared her. His look softened and he ran his hand up her thigh. "Anya," He said softly. "We've been through a lot together. After what those little shits did to ya. Everything I did is for ya. I 'ave loads of money saved up. I'm gonna buy ya a 'ouse in Scotland, Colt will 'ave some new toys, clothes, room to run 'round, anything he wants. This pays enough to get us by. I promise you. It won' be more than a couple of months. I'll get you away from Death Eaters, war, everything. Ya 'ave to be patient wit' me."
Anya exhaled and looked at Colt. "You have to promise me this won't last forever."
"I promise." He said sitting up on his knees and putting each hand on one side of her face. He pulled her into a deep kiss. She touched his hand and put her forehead to his once the kiss was broken.
"Scabior." She said in a light airy voice. Her eyes were heavy lidded and twinkled with tears. He couldn't resist a smile. She loved it when she said his name.
"Scabior?" Capucine said. "Are you listening?"
"No." Scabior said placing his elbows on the table. His steely eyes were directed on the monkey swinging from the ice box to the table and back. Rooster was growing increasingly agitated by his brow knitting closer together and his crossed arms were tighter.
Capucine threw her hands up in the air. "I can't believe you! I never raised you to be a little fais chier. How could you let your girlfriend stay out on the streets when she's pregnant? I never raised you like this! I taught you to have respect for women and above all taking responsibility for what you've done. When I was pregnant with you, I had no one. Don't you think for a moment I was scared? Didn't you think that I wished I had someone to be there for me?"
"'ow do I know it's even mine?"
"If you were floppin' around on top of her then you know there's a chance, boy-" Rooster interjected.
"Rooster, this is my child, I can handle this."
"Yea'." Scabior said, pulling out a cigarette. He could feel Anya staring at him. Her eyes were red and puffy and her red hair was uncombed and tossed into a messy bun. She stared at him, her puffy lips were poked out in a pout and her eyes searched for his, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. "Tha' means stay out of it, ya trashy, dirty blood mud-"
Rooster's arms unhooked and his fist were balled. Capucine placed her hand on his chest. "Stop! No fighting."
"Let me just kick his arse, just once-"
"NO! That's my child!"
"And he'll continue to act like one as long as you keep this up."
Capucine shook her head. Scabior smirked and lit his cigarette. Anya whimpered and burst into another fit of tears. Capucine rushed to console her and wrapped her arms around her. "It's alright, darling. You'll be fine. I don't care if he's not the father, I'll be there for you." She smoothed her hair down.
"I never was with anyone else."
"I doubt tha'."
"Shut up." Rooster snapped at him.
"Mum!"
"Both of you, enough of this!" Capucine said, rubbing Anya's arm. "This isn't about you, Scabior or you, Rooster. This is about my grandchild."
"It's not yer grandchild, mum!"
"You sodding bastard!" Anya spat. "It's yours!"
"You shouldn't be upsetting her." Capucine said.
"She shouldn't be claimin' somethin' that ain't mine, slag!"
Anya leapt from her seat at the table with her nails barred like talons. Shocked by her reaction, Scabior leapt from his seat at the table and scooted away from her. Capucine steered her in her seat. "No. No. You have to think about the baby."
"Test it and I'll believe you." Scabior said, exhaling smoke in her direction. Capucine fanned it the other way.
"No more smoking around her." She said, walking his way and snatching it from between his fingers. "When you find out it's yours you're going to feel mighty sorry for what you're doing and saying."
"No, I won'."
Capucine ignored him and continued. "And then you two are going to get married."
"WOT?" Scabior exclaimed. "I'm not getting' married to 'er 'cause she's preggars!"
"PISS OFF!" Anya yelled at him.
"Yes, you will." Capucine said, crossing her arms. "I don't care. It can be public or private, as long as it gets done. Your child deserves the best and to have its parents together."
"Mum," Scabior started as he reached for another cigarette. "Two things. One it's not my kid and two even if it is mine, I'm not marryin' the slag." He finished folding his arms.
