Prompt 35 - fight

It wasn't unusual for Scabior to get into fights. Sometimes he got drunk and fought with people in the pub. Sometimes it was over women, usually because their boyfriend came home and caught them in bed with Scabior. And sometimes trouble seemed to find him in the most unexpected places.

It began one night when he was stalking a pair of muggleborns through the woods. He picked up their trail earlier that evening, following their scent until he came to a small campsite in a secluded part of the forest.

Scabior peered out from between the bushes. Some of the overhanging branches brushed against his fur, and he flicked his ear as a leafy branch poked him in the side of the head. He'd had a difficult time tracking these muggleborns, and after two weeks of searching had decided to use his animagus form to help him find the band of teenagers.

It was easier to track someone through the dense woodlands when he was a lynx. His mottled coat helped him hide in the leaves, his paws moving silently and swiftly through the grass as he ran. He blended seamlessly with his surroundings, and could easily pick up the scent of humans in the woods. Sure, he could have Greyback hunt them down using his enhanced sense of smell, but why send a werewolf to do something that he was perfectly capable of doing on his own?

He started to move forward, creeping through the bushes as he neared the campsite. He was halfway to their campsite when a skunk wandered out in front of him. It spied him crouching in the undergrowth, and needless to say it wasn't pleased to see another animal in its territory.

It tried growling and stamping its feet, hoping its display would be enough to make Scabior leave. But the arrogant lynx simply rolled his eyes and sideswiped the skunk with his paw. He wasn't leaving just because a furry animal had ventured into the campground. He'd been tracking these muggleborns for weeks, and he was determined to stand his ground no matter who or what got in his way.

A fight ensued between Scabior and the angry skunk, and an hour later the head Snatcher walked into the Ministry of Magic, reeking of rotten eggs and garbage. He was wearing a closepin on his nose to prevent the rancid stench from entering his nostrils, and despite the horrid stench surrounding his body, he seemed pleased with himself for successfully snatching his targets.

'Ere they are," said Scabior, dumping the muggleborns on Umbridge's doorstep.

Dolores wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Dear Merlin, what is that horrible smell?" she asked, fanning the air in front of her with her hand.

Scabior grinned. "Tha is the sweet smell of success. Though I do believe I should be getting 'azard pay due to the infestation of skunks that were in the woods where I captured them."

"Fine. Just take your rancid odor and leave."

The Snatcher laughed as Dolores threw an extra large sack of gold at him. She was eager to be rid of him and his horrible stench, and if paying him more to get him to leave was what it took, then so be it. She'd rather be out the extra gold than have him stinking up her office all day.