Once again the chapter came out a bit late. I'm in the middle of my test week, so I haven't found that much time to write. But yet here the new chapter is! Enjoy and tell me what you think ;)

Chapter 20

A shiver went down her spine as she sat up in her bed, panting. Her forehead was covered in sweat and her covers were soaked. Hermione had never had such a vivid dream. She knew she was going through a rough time full of horrors, but having a nightmare during was very uncommon. The glass, standing on her bedstand lacked water after a few seconds and the too hot bed was left empty with the flick of an eye. She walked towards her bathroom and splashed some water on her face.

She looked in the mirror and saw her thinning face, the blue circles beneath her eyes and her wretched lips. She took a deep breath before she dug her hairbrush in the thick bush of brown curls, trying to tame it a little.

It was already morning, she noticed by a small beam of light able to sneak into the room through a crack in her curtains.

She felt a roaring sensation coming from her stomach, making her rather eager to fill it. She dropped the hairbrush and walked downstairs barefeet and still wearing her pyamas. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I'm sorry... for what? Bloody fucking me over? He's sorry..."

Hermoine walked into the kitchen and bumbed into a muffin eating man at the counter. She looked up from the fiddling with her nails and staired into the grey eyes of Sirius Black.

"Who's sorry?" he asked with a chuckle.

"No one," she answered with a grunt before she walked around the man and heated up some water in a mug with the palm of her hand, "it's just... it's just that it's morning, it's nothing really."

"It's not morning, kitten," Sirius told her, "it's noon. Harry was already discussing wether to wake you up or not, but we all figured we really shouldn't."

"I'm feeling grumpy."

"We've noticed."

"Fuck off," Hermione put down her mug and took a bag of tea and a bowl of cereal before she walked over towards the counter and sat down, "I'm not feeling like conversation."

Sirius raised his eyebrows at hearing Hermione swear and shrugged, "Alright if you're not appreciating the nice side of me you can always have the less nicer side. Would you like that?"

Hermione looked at the man, not wearing his usual clothes and blinked a few times, "Enlighten me."

The man took his elastic band and put his hair up in a bun before he walked over to Hermione and put each hand on a different side of her, "You have been ignoring me for days."

"I know," she answered, "I was there."

"You have been nothing," he continued, "but a complete pain in my arse while I've been nothing but nice and supporting."

Hermione scanned the man up and down, taking in his dark blue jeans, his black t-shirt, his black socks and his leather belt wrapped around his waist, "I am absolutely done with you shutting me out. You come in here, talking to yourself about apologizing or God knows what, you stumble into me, because you're heavily focussed on your hands instead of your surroundings and when I want to talk with you about it you tell me to fuck off?" Sirius' tone was getting more and more frustrated the longer he talked.

"I know you're going through something here, Hermione," Sirius continued, almost getting at the volume of screaming, "I know you are, but why can't you bloody trust me?"

"I trust you..."

"Then why do you keep shutting me out?" he screamed.

"Because I don't know how to begin!" Hermione cried out, "I don't know where to begin, goddamnit!"

Hermione pushed the man away from her and stormed the kitche out and stormed the staircase up.

"Hermione!" he called after her while her rolled his eyes, "You are not walking away from me! Hermione, wait!"

"No, Sirius, I won't wait," she told him while walking up the stairs, "I'm absolutely terrible, I get it. Why won't you stop wasting your time on such a horrible person then?"

"Hermione," Sirius said, "spending time on you could never be a waste of time."

She stopped walking and looked down at the man standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands in his pockets and his puppy eyes on, "Now come downstairs and finish your tea."

Sirius kept staring at her until she walked down a step, but stopped when she saw him smile, "Well come on!" he laughed, "I'm the lovely Snuffles, Snuffles doesn't bite."

"I thought you said you'd show the less nice side of you," Hermione scoffed before she folded her arms, "I thought I'd see the grim."

"The grim is long gone," Sirius said, "now come on, kitten... Your tea is getting cold."

Sirius extended his hand, which Hermione took gradually. His strong hand led her towards the kitchen. Hermione sat down at the counter again and took the warm mug in her hands, "You're dressed differently," she mumbled before Sirius leaned against the counter on the other side of it.

"I know," he answered, "You like it?"

"Sure," she answered with a gentle smile, trying to ease off the enrangement they had both felt, "it makes you more... youthful."

"Why, thank you," Sirius laughed before he rubbed his chin, "It was actually just laundry day, but maybe it's time for bit more, as you call it, youthful wardrobe."

Hermione laughed and took a bite of her cereal. Bill and Fleur always had the expensive, nice, muggle stuff her parents used to buy. It was the kind that wouldn't destroy her teeth by the overdose of suger. She loved the cereal, it made her remember home.

"So," Sirius said while clearing his throat, "you want to tell me about that 'I'm sorry' mumbling going on before?"

Hermione smooched her lips and took a deep breath, "I found a small piece of paper in my bag the other night with only 'I'm sorry' written on it," she took another sip of her tea before continuing, "I don't know who it's from, but I'm guessing it's from Scabior."

"What makes you think that?" Sirius grunted.

"He made sure I got the bag," she told him, "so he could've slipped it in. He also could've gotten it in before he shrunk the bag for me... Maybe he wanted to apologize for turning me in."

"Seeing the circumstances, I'm afraid to say it could also not be Scabior's. Show me the piece of paper," Sirius told her, "I'd like to see it."

Hermione reached down the pocked of her pyama bottoms and gave the piece of paper to Sirius, "Well... I don't think that's..."

"Oh, come on, don't leave a dramatic silence," Hermione grunted with a roll of her eyes, "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I think that's Peter's," Sirius mumbled, "Wormtail's.."

"No way," Hermione scoffed, "You think he's apologizing for betraying us?"

"I think so," Sirius laughed, "I think he's apologizing! You know what? I'll ask Remus to come over here for a second. He'll recognize Peter's handwriting in a jiffy."

"Yeah su..-"

"REMUS!"

"YEAH, WHAT IS IT?"

"COME DOWN HERE!"

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE... JUST DO IT!"

The werewolf came walking down the stairs and folded his arms with his hands covered in cardigan, "What was so important that I had to leave my book in the middle of a very intruiging chapter?"

"Hermione has a note saying 'I'm sorry'," Sirius told him with twinkling eyes.

"How wonderful for her," Remus sighed, "why would that require my presence?"

"I think it's Peter's," Sirius told him while he handed the paper to Remus, "At least, I think I recognize his handwriting."

"You might be right," the werewolf said with a grunt while his finger ran over the ink words, "I think it's Peter's too."

Hermione looked at the two man discussing the piece of paper and sighed. The apology came from Peter, not Scabior. Apparently he really didn't care at all for what he had done. She took a deep, long breath which made the men realise maybe they needed to stop talking. They exchanged glances and walked over to the girl, "That it's Peter's doesn't mean it couldn't have been from Scabior," Remus says, "I'm sure he's feeling some... sort of regret."

"I appreciate it, Remus," Hermione said, "but don't patronize me. It's Peter's, which is more important than it being Scabior's. So really, don't hold back. I'll just go upstairs."

"Hermione," Sirius started, "don't go upstairs again. Go get some fresh air, okay? It'll do you good."

Hermione looked at the black haired man and blinked, "Fine," she said, "I'll sit outside for a bit."

Before Hermione reached the door she looked around at the two men discussing again and said, "I'm glad for you, by the way. That it's Peter's, I mean," she smiled and closed the door behind her, leaving the two men to their theories.

"Bloody fuckin' hell..."

"Nawh fuck that's crap too..."

"Shit..."

"Why the bloody fuck can't I fuckin' write like a normal fuckin' person?"

He picked up his desk and threw it on the ground, breaking the thing in two. The pieces parchment on which he was writing were all over the floor. He dropped his quill and sat down at the bed before he picked up a piece of parchment laying on the ground before his feet.

Dear Hermione X

Love X

Princes- X

Hermione,

I have read your letter and am now writing you back. X

Hermione,

I have received your letter and have thought about it many X

Please just forgive me...X

Scabior crumbled the parchment up into a ball and threw it agains the canvas before letting his head slip into his hands. How could he have screwed the first thing in his life that made him somehow happy up so quickly? He picked up Hermione's letter laying on the nightstand and took a deep breath before reading it again, and again, and again.

He then picked up a new piece of parchment and his quill and started writing.

Dear Hermione,

Thank you for your letter and well... X

Scabior grunted and ripped up the piece of parchment before starting again.

I'm in love with you too and I'm sorry that I've ruined it and that I've been such a fuck up and that I've hurt you and X

"Shit," he sighed before a tear fell onto the piece of parchment, "Shit."

Hermione,

I'm glad you escaped, your friend shouldn't've died.

Don't wait for me. I won't wait for you,

Scabior

Scabior stood up, folded the piece of parchment and took a few deep breaths, withholding his tears before walking outside his tent towards the owl-shed. He gave a bird his letter, took another long breath and walked towards a tent that had gotten quite familiar to him. His breath was still reeking of alcohol when he reached the tent of Natasha Racotty.

He walked inside, sat down on her bed and said, "Let's fuck."

Racotty turned around in the chair she was sitting on and frowned at the brown haired man sitting on her bed with his elbows resting on his knees and a wicked smile on his face. "Why?"

"I'm feeling like having a good fuck, Racotty," he anwered, "I know you're up for it. Don't think I don't see the way you're always ogling me."

"I'm not.. ogling you?" Racotty scoffed, "but fine. You wanna fuck? Let's fuck."

She walked over to the man, sat down on his lap and kissed him pressed her full lips against Scabior's. Her hands were tangled in his brown-red hair and were exploring the treasure she had felt many times before before. She moaned as Scabior's hand slipped down her jeans, found her bottom and squeezed. Scabior traced his lips down her neck, gently biting her once in a while. Making her wince every time his hot breath danced against the tender flesh.

It's not her. It's not her! Stop imagining it's her.

His fingers dug into her bum and back, leaving marks all over her body. He took out his hand and stood up with Racotty's legs wrapped around his waist. He lay her down on the bed and kissed her again. His tongue intertwinging with hers. His hand found the pink scarf still wrapped around his neck, which he took off and threw on the ground. His hands cupped Racotty's face as his eyelashes gently touched her cheek.

He felt a stiffness against his trousers, aching to be released while he took off his own clothing and she took off her's. She smelled amazing. Like pine cones, smoke and alcohol.

"So do you want to tell me what the hell that was about?" she asked while she stood up from the bed to get a towel for the sweat produced by their intimacy.

"I was just longing for you and you're magnificent lil' cunt, Natasha," Scabior said while he leaned back in the bed, "a man can't go on long without your touch."

Racotty rolled her eyes and put on her underwear, before fumbling with her shirt to get it right again, "There was more to it," she grunted, "your sex is normally... rough and feelingless. Aiming purely for satisfaction, but tonight I felt you longing and a touch of... sadness, maybe."

"It was once again," Scabior said before standing up to grab his trousers, "without any feeling. Don't flatter yourself."

"I'm not saying the feelings were for me," she scoffed while putting on her boots, "I'm saying there were some there. I didn't know you had them."

"Right..." he sighed, "Well I didn't come here for a shrink, so 'Adios' and thanks for the sex."

Racotty grabbed the man by the collar of his coat, "Scabior..." but soon regretted the action as Scabior turned around, looking furious. The palm of his hand stroke the woman's cheek hard, the force beating her onto the ground.

"Don't.. you.. dare," he told her calmly.

Scabior walked out of the tent, leaving behind the young woman in shock.

He licked his lips, still feeling satisfied from the good round of sex while walking towards the other end of the camp, where he found his crew drinking and playing cards. He sat down next to Fenrir Greyback and took a swig of a man's firewhiskey. The crew looked up, but kept playing and counted Scabior in. After a few rounds of cards Scabior stood up and said:

"I think we've played abou' enough cards, for t'night."

The men frowned and groaned, but stopped when Scabior started talking again, "We should go out into the woods again tomorrow mornin'," he continued, "We really have to catch somethin' good again... especially someone like Harry-Scarface-Potter and his lil' girlfriend. Who's up for tha'?"

The glasses were raises with approving exclaimations. They drunk their drink and continued their game while Scabior stood up and walked away from the table. He dropped the glass he snatched onto the mud that once was beautiful grass. "That's wha' I'm talking about!" he screamed at his crew, leaving them cheering again.

Harry Potter.. that's who would get him his reputation back. He also had to get Hermione back in his arms. Even if it was just for one night or one minute. Just a glance would be enough to live on for a while.

Merlin, was he selfish.