I Dare You to Snatch My Heart

A Scabior Fanfiction

Disclaimer: La La La I can't hear you…. Okay I don't claim

A/N: So Sorry! I really am! I've been attacked by so many plot bunnies, it's a bloody assault! Check out my new story The Piper's Song and enjoy this chapter! I wanted to make the story a bit darker and more intense so here it is. With love, The Dreamer

Chapter 10 Of Ashes and Blood

Previously: At first I feel his coarse long hair beneath my fingertips but then the hair starts to feel softer shorter. I open my eyes just a bit and see a flash of blonde…blonde! Pushing my palms against his shoulders and pulling away with horror and disgust. I raise a trembling hand to my lips and back into a tree behind me, my dress tearing on thorns around me. "It's you…"

The gray eyes of Scabior were now the dark envious green eyes of Watson Carter.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, disappointed at the tremble of my voice. He just crosses his arms, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Tsk, Tsk, my dear, is that any way to greet an old friend?" He says straightening his cravat and taking three long strides to stand before me. He smells like sharp mint and cheap cologne, nothing like the scent of fire I smelled on Scabior before the dance.

"Ah, the Polyjuice potion, a great discovery, I do say," He muses glancing at his fingernails then back up at me, looking almost feral. He reaches one hand up to brush a smooth, almost delicate, hand across my cheek. I jerk my head to the side, feeling the rough bark of the tree scratch the side of my face.

"Don't …touch…me," I grind out closing my eyes which are stinging with withheld tears. He removes his hand from my cheek only to rest it around my neck.

"I missed you," he coos and I don't believe a word.

"You left me," I exclaim, feeling tears well up behind my closed eyes, one stay drop falling down my face.

"Oh, but I'm here now and our little snatcher problem has been taken care of"

"What did you do with him, Carter? Where is Scabior?" I say and his hold on my neck gets tighter. His eyes flash and just as I'm sure that his grip will become fatal, I hear a click and feel something cool run down my neck and the pressure is gone. I gasp hoarsely when I see the small golden triangle on a chain in his pale handed grasp.

"Give it back," I manage to say out of breath and reaching in vain for my necklace "It is of no value other than sentimental and I really doubt that you want to hear about my sweet sixteen."

"That is where you are wrong, Cleopatria," he murmurs holding a trance like gaze on the small twirling pyramid in his hands. I inch sideways trying to take advantage of his distraction when his head whips around and is eyes hold a dangerous glint.

"Do you know what this is, dear?" he asks softly drawing an envelope from his pocket and I'm about to make a rather nasty remark when I recognize the wax seal that was gleaming under the light of the moon, my family crest, a bow with its arrow piercing a silver heart. I reach out to grab it but his hand catches mine.

"Let's not be rash," he whispers, "this is a letter from the late , and it states that your simple piece of supposed muggle gold is something far more valuable." My blood runs cold through my veins, the "late" ? I am about to demand an answer when he continues.

"Do you know of a Nicholas Flamel? Oh, of course you do, but do you know what he created?"

"The sorcerer's stone, an elixir for eternal life, and the process of turning stone to gold." I say remembering an old essay that I did last minute for school four years ago.

"Very good, I always knew you were a clever girl. Now tell me, what you think would happen if you put the three together, gold, power, and eternal life?"

"That would be a disaster, Watson, and you know it." I say my voice low and quavering, looking at the golden triangle which didn't seem so innocent know. It is a piece of jewelry! As if reading my thoughts, Watson asked, "Cleo you look young for your twenty one years, do you not?"

"Now wait here Watson," I say pointing a finger at his chest, "I got that necklace when I was sixteen and I do not look sixteen!" But then, I remember losing it for three years and finding it when I was nineteen. I can tell that he knows too because of the grin spreading across his pale face.

"Your dearest mother, is fatally ill, correct?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"This letter," he continues, "asks that you bring the medallion to her so that she could live," his eyes grow dark and his grin now seems almost maniacal, "such a pity that she dead, such a pity that I killed her."

SSSS

The cold wind bites at my skin, the hard bark of the tree I'm bound to scratches at my back, but the worst pain is knowing that she's in trouble, that he's with her. As usual, I can remember what had happened. Cleo and I had gotten separated at the dance. I had finally gotten away from Rachel and was going to look for my pixie when I Scabior, the snatcher, got snatched. He took a lock of my hair and duplicated my clothes, before apparating me to an unknown forest and binding me with chains to a tree and taking my wand. I put up a fight, I did, but no one is as powerful without a wand. Although I left a few cuts and bruises on Watson Carter, I was the one bound to a tree in Northern Nowhere. Taking this time to think, I wonder how I have gotten so bloody sentimental. When three muggle borns killed my brother years ago, I hated them. I still hate them and that is why I do what I do and, call me a demon but I enjoy the hunt, the chase, the feeling of power, the paid rewards, but I never enjoy the kill. Oh, then there's that little thing called infatuation, my dear Cleo. I already tried telling myself that any man would be attracted to Cleo like I was, but I realize now standing out in the cold, left to die, that I would take her place, I would let myself be killed before he ever touched a single hair on her head. I let out an anguished scream and yank at the cold iron chains binding me to the tree. I notice, head hanging and breath ragged, a gap in one of the links close to my left hand. I move my arms violently making the link come loose and fall to the ground bringing the rest of the chain with it. Wasting no time feeling triumphant, I quickly use my left hand to free my right. My hair falls in my face and my vision goes blurry, a wicked grin on my face when I see the small object hidden in the dead grass at my feet. Watson Carter was an idiot.

CCCC

"You monster! I don't believe you!" I shout tears falling down my flushed cheeks. My mother couldn't be dead. I would know. I would feel it in my very soul, tearing me apart. Why would he want to kill her?

"But it is the truth precious," Watson says in a soft chilling voice, "you see, I was just leaving you after practically killing your lover, when I resumed my search for the golden pyramid, sources telling me it was in the possession of a certain Delia Wright. I tracked this Delia Wright down only to find a frail woman in a little quaint cottage, but your mother would not tell me where the medallion was so I threatened to kill her and that is exactly what I did."

I felt myself falling watching the colored lanterns dance above me. He was insane, impossible to reason with. Tonight I would die, even if he got what he wanted.

"I planned to go back to camp and convince you to tell me, but then I found your bag and the letter inside of it, leading me straight to you, the keeper of the gold. Now that I have the pyramid, I will have to dispose of any evidence that I was here." He points a wand that I notice is Scabior's to my heart.

I know what those words mean and I close my eyes trying to think back on all my happy memories before I would see the flash that would end my life. But it didn't come. Instead came a cold hand grasping my wrist and pulling me into suit clad arms, the smell of a burning fire and something indescribable.

"Scabior," I gasp looking up to see gray eyes filled with rage, his dark hair once neatly combed for the party, now hanging in his face, his breathing ragged, his stance ready to kill.

"You forgot something, Carter," He says calmly holding up my wand that Watson stole and probably used to hurt Scabior. Watson glares at him looking like a child who has been denied a trip to the toy store. The lanterns above us are starting to dim and the moon is starting to rise slowly above a hill in the distance.

"Oh, now I'll have to kill you both." He whines and Scabior lets go of me coming to tower above Watson, his smirk in place.

"Little thief, you stole my face, you stole whatever that is," Scabior says motioning to the necklace in Watson's hand, "and you stole my girl. Face me now so that I can steal your life. Cleo, go into the forest and wait, stand by a tree and close your eyes." He orders not taking his eyes off Watson.

"Scabior, I won't leave-" I try to say my hand resting on his upper arm, but he repeats his order with so much force that I shudder, turning to run into the dark woods. Thorn bushes tear through my dress and leave crimson cuts on my legs, I keep runs my vision going blurry with tears until I find a tree far enough into the depths of skeletal trees and close my eyes, awaiting his return, knowing that someone would die tonight.

SSSS

"Please, spare me," the boy whimpers, my hand at his throat, my wand at his chest. We had been dueling for awhile when I finally disarmed him and brought him to his knees. When trying to cast a burning hex, the idiot hit one of the lanterns causing the blazing inferno around us. The fire crackled in the silence around us and when I looked into the flames, I swore I saw her face staring back at me begging me to save her. I fought harder then, now ready for the big finale.

"Carter, you were always going to die but now you die a coward… Avada Kedavra!"

..

..

..

I find her, after following her sweet scent for awhile, shivering eyes closed against a spindly dying oak. Her pink dress is torn to shreds and her legs are bleeding. It is that moment I realize. Wrapping my arms around her and watching her brown doe like eyes flutter open, I realize I love her.

CCCC

I thought he wouldn't return. I thought that he was killed. I shivered in the cold until two arms wrapped around my waist and long coarse hair brushed against my cheek. Even when I opened my eyes and I saw his staring back at me with an emotion so intense, I thought he was a phantom, a desperate hoax of my imagination. But, I knew when his lips pressed hard against mine tasting of blood and ashes that he was real, and that I was his.

A/N: So sorry for the wait, but I believe that this chapter's revelations might make up for that! So tell me what you think and check on my page for the next chapter!

Up next on IDYTSMH: The snatches find the golden trio and Cleo gets trapped in Malfoy manor, having to use her sharp wit and compassion to escape and return to her beloved.