Chapter 3!

Title: 'Time Wasting: Part 2'

Note: Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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"I think you should come with me." The man reached out a large hand, about to grab her arm.

She was already mouthing the incantation 'confundus' before she was interrupted again, this time by an unexpected source.

"There you are, beautiful." Another voice suddenly entered the dank shop, a man's voice coated with a thick accent and an unnaturally sweet tone.

They both looked towards the doorway just as the grungy owner of that voice was stepping further into the store, his hands in the leather pockets of his jacket. They both looked at him with the same expression: wide-eyed confusion.

Though Hermione found herself with more of a reason to feel so confused when the man deliberately walked up to her side and placed a hand on her waist.

She nearly punched him away, but he was already talking again.

"I thought I'd lost you." He practically crooned down at her with his own invention of an innocent smile, it still seemed completely crooked.
Unnatural.

"What are you, her uncle?" The broad-shouldered shopkeeper asked with a mean tone. Hermione poked her elbow into his side, trying to push him off, his hand only tightened on her almost painfully.

"Was he giving you trouble?" The man whose hand was slinking farther along her waist in a way an uncle would never do. Hermione's teeth grated slightly in reaction, just as he finished asking her that question with a worry-saturated voice. He looked down at her wearing a fake expression of concern, his brows peaking upward sharply.
She just stared up at him as if she was wondering if he had gone crazy.
Somewhere in his head he was wondering the same thing.
But he didn't care what the answer was.
He was having fun with this.

He looked away from the girl next to him, still wanting to see more of the ridiculous expression she had on. His eyes met the other man's.

"Because we can always take our money elsewhere…" The snatcher used words that sounded unevenly proper with his street-accent.

'Our money'? Hermione thought to herself incredulously.

The shop-owner suddenly seemed to lose his suspicions, but he sounded annoyed when he spoke up again.

"Er, sorry, I thought she was-"

"You were wrong." The snatcher's voice hardened with only those words.

Hermione looked up at the man by her side, about ready to try and push him away again, but the look in his eyes stopped her.

He was only looking at the shop owner but he looked so… serious.

Like he was trying to stare him down or something.

The look in his eyes was almost… predatorial.
Like he was claiming his prey in front of another scavenger.

Hermione glanced over to the other man. He seemed a little lost, like he forgot how to speak for a moment.
That was strange.

She had thought that this snatcher was only show. That he only had his fake charm and wicked sarcasm… she was starting to think otherwise.

Something about him was actually… different… than she thought.

"Now, if you get what she asked for we can leave you and this depressing little pit of an establishment and get going on our merry way, then."

The store owner gave him a surprised look, like he was shocked by this man's rudeness.

The snatcher smiled down at her.

… … …

Silently leaving the shop, carrying a bag, of supplies and walking back down the path that led to the forest, with a snatcher walking by her side, took up ten of the most confusingly awkward minutes Hermione had had to endure since the incident at the Ministry.

Even as they were already halfway back she had no idea why he was still walking with her.

What was he expecting?

She glanced over at him, having to look up slightly to see his face. He was expressionless. She looked away again, annoyed.

Why couldn't he leave her alone?

What did he want?

Thanks?

That was a rich thought. Why would she thank him?
She broke the silence with that thought.

"I would've been fine if you had left me alone." She didn't like how genuinely ungrateful she sounded. But she did everything under control, everything could've been fixed with a simple jinx, it didn't have to turn into a scene.

"Do you really believe that?" He didn't sound at all curious, more like he was just telling her flat-out how wrong she was.

"Then why'd you help me, if I was so helpless?" Hermione nearly spat the question.

He really didn't like that question.
He was still asking himself that.

"I guess, I'm a pretty helpful bloke, really." He tried to pass it off with sarcasm.

She turned to him with a glare. He saw it in the corner of his eye but didn't react like he wanted.
She huffed a little, her eyebrows tense and pulling together with irritation.

"You didn't seem so helpful when you were going to let Fenrir Greyback bite me." Her tone sharpened with impatience, she was regretting his company more and more by the moment.

"I told him he shouldn't." The snatcher corrected her lightly, "Besides, I couldn't blame the big guy… biting is just a way for him to let you know he likes you…" He understated with some humor, "Like a dog humping a leg."

She sighed, more irritation in her breath than had been in her voice.
He couldn't blame her.
He wasn't all that impressed with himself either. Here he was, talking to his eventual paycheck so casually, unable to kidnap her now and get it over with… unable to bring himself to…
He wiped that slip of thought from his head.

Instead, he forced himself to find an excuse for his actions, one he said aloud so they both weren't confused about this any longer. So neither of them could get the wrong idea.

"I don't like owing anybody." He admitted, "Now we're even." His voice softened unintentionally with that.

She thought through those words… She couldn't really believe them…
How could a man like him have any sort of honor-code to live by?

They were quiet for a moment longer.

She could barely muscle her way past the strangeness of this situation, walking and talking –even this rudely- with a snatcher like this, to ask something.

"Is that really it?" Her voice wasn't as annoyed anymore.

He only thought about that question for a split second before responding.

"What other reason is there?" His voice picked up a little. "I know a man without a team isn't as intimidating as one with, but I'm still the same man, girl." He looked over at her, now she was the one who wouldn't look at him, she was staring at the bag in her hand. "If I had enough men under my lead I would take all three of you one by one to You-Know-Who in an instant." His voice grew lower, even bitter. "Starting with you." He added, another smirk growing on his lips at the thought.

He waited for her nervous reply.

But she wasn't nervous right now. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

"So… you're admitting that you're too weak by yourself."

She couldn't even collect her thoughts about what she just said and what she wondered he would retort with before a deep thud ran through her back, the bag of moonstone powder and hellebore syrup fell to the ground, the jars clinking together weakly.
Just as soon as her brain could process the moment of sudden movement and the tight vises on her arms she realized she was looking the snatcher in the eye. His face closer to hers than it had been since the day him and his team had first captured them.

She could feel the warmth of his skin only inches from hers. The coarseness of his hands wrapped around her arms, lifting them above her head, the strange sensation of his fingers rubbing over her skin slightly. She leaned away from his face, the back of her head was stopped by the bark of the tree she was pinned against. He took a step closer, he breathed in deeply at the same time. She wanted to turn her head away from him, but she didn't. His face lingered next to hers for only a few more seconds before he leaned away just an inch.
She saw again, his pale blue eyes up close.
She couldn't look away.

"You've no idea what I'm capable of, love." His voice seemed so different now, but… real…
Like this is what he really sounded like.
"I'm a man. You're a little girl." He said slowly, looking down at her without tilting his head forward. He let his hands slide up her arms, his fingers pressing against her skin tightly. She tried to pry her arms away from the tree and out of his reach, but she couldn't. His hands slid up and closed around her wrists.

He leaned in again, even closer.

His lips were only millimeters away from her own, she was almost afraid that if she breathed they would touch.
That was until he spoke again.

"You can't imagine what I could do to you." He whispered, his accent bending the words. His lips grazed hers with every syllable until he turned his head right and leaned forward. He let his lips graze along her jaw. He inhaled deeply.

This had gone far enough for her. She lifted her foot and let it fall back down with as much force she could create onto his foot, he winced for a moment, his hands paying less attention to her wrists for that moment. It was all she needed to worm out of his hold.
In only moments her wand was in hand, the tip poised at the underside of his jaw.

He looked down at her with unchanged eyes… as if he was still only inches from her face, as if his hands were still holding her against her will. She pressed her wand against his skin a little harder.

His right hand grabbed hers sharply. "You can't do any real harm. You can only play with little jinxes and hexes." He told her.

She noticed trails of red-brown staining his skin, a deep gash peaking around the side of his hand…

"You don't know what I'm capable of." She gave him back his own words.

"I know you're not like me…"
His voice didn't sound angry or scary or even proud… it was like he was just telling her a fact.

In only a instant after he said those words, three other words had blinded him and took away his ability to follow her as she ran off.

"Obscuro. Locomotor mortis." She said the incantations shakily just before grabbing the bag and running.

Even when she got to the tent and caught her breath her heart was still beating a mile a minute.

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After spending an hour lying blind and motionless on the forest floor he made his way back to the tree that had served as a chair the night before. The sun was already setting again.

He still couldn't believe himself.

He should be getting out of this, he should just leave all this and let somebody else deal with these three… and that girl…. but here he was.

He must've been daft.

Out of his mind.

Mad.

But again… he couldn't really care.

He remembered the trace feeling of her lips on his own.

… … …

"It's my turn to guard tonight, get some sleep." She reminded Harry and Ron just as they went back to the tent to settle and sleep. She stayed outside, by the little fire.
She hadn't been able to make the pepperup for them yet.

She took out her small cauldron and started the easy potion. The hardest part of the potion was the wait. It could take hour for all the ingredients to boil down right. But even as she measured everything out and poured it all into the cauldron she couldn't tear her mind away from something else.
Someone else.

His words kept tumbling in her mind.

'I know you're not like me….'

The way he said that. So clearly. As if he was… complimenting her.

… That was so strange….

Something about that man was… he wasn't exactly who she thought he was.

She rubbed her wrists, which were still a little pink from his hands.

She wondered if she was only looking too far into things. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see. Maybe she was wasting her time thinking about this. She added three boom berries at once.
She looked at her right hand. She remembered his.

The gash running along his palm.
She looked over to the area she had met him this morning.
She wondered if he was there.

She sighed.

She remembered the first time she realized he was following them. She had been resetting the protective wards while Harry and Ronald were in the tent talking, and just like that… she found him. She had thought he had been waiting for one of them to find him, that he had his whole team hiding somewhere, but after a moment she realized he was alone. He had been sleeping. It was strange to see a man that could make her heart grow heavy with fear just sleeping so soundly.
Maybe it was because of how harmless he seemed at that time, but she hadn't said anything. Even now she couldn't explain why. Why would she let a snatcher like him go?
Why would she let him follow them?

She was starting to feel guiltier.

Maybe she had planned on keeping him around as a last resort, someone to interrogate if they ever needed answers…
She knew that wasn't it.

But just as soon as she was about to run out of questions or excuses she noticed something.

Ron's sneakoscope.

It had been sitting out here, resting against the low-tuned radio for hours. Ronald had been hovering over it all day, checking to see if any enemies were around.

And there it was… just laying there, quiet and dark.

Her heart started beating a little quickly.

She grabbed her wand.

"Homenum revelio" Hermione whispered under her breath.

Sure enough, a small white whisper of light emanated from her wand and pointed weakly towards the spot the snatcher and her had talked that morning.

He was still here.

She looked over to the sneakoscope again, as if expecting it to suddenly jump up and start ringing.
It didn't.

She would've thought that the sneakoscope was broken, but it had worked only a few days before when a small gang of delinquents had passed by, unable to see the tent because of the charms. But that man had been following them for days and the sneakoscope… it hadn't done a thing.

He wasn't an enemy?

She couldn't quite accept that. She couldn't go against all her logic and forget what that man really was…
But she still felt it… something about him was... different.

She turned her wand in her wand nervously for a moment as she pulled her knees against her chest, waiting for the cauldron to bubble into a pale green color…
After minutes of hesitation she lifted her wand, pointing it in the direction her previous spell had shown her.

"Ferula."

… … … …

Kicking leaves and playing with the ring on his finger out of boredom, still deep in thought about why he's wasting his time here, he was distracted by all that when a small white object suddenly appeared only a few feet away from where he was standing.
He picked it up curiously, his eyebrows pulling together slightly out of confusion.
The moonlight made the object a pale blue color.

It was a little roll of bandaging.

He stared at it for a moment.

He turned towards the tent. She was sitting in front of a fire-heated cauldron, her knees brought up to her chin. He could tell she was looking over here every few seconds.

He really couldn't understand whatever this meant, but he opened the gauze roll and started wrapping it around his hand.

He knew, at least, that this was the start of more things he wouldn't understand, but… he didn't really care.
He glanced over his shoulder one last time at the girl who was now stirring the cauldron with an intense expression.

He looked away and tied off the bandgage.
He stopped asking himself why he was wasting his time here.

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I'll be writing the next chapter as soon as possible.
It'll be getting a little… uh… darker. Hopefully that's alright with everyone.

Reviews are welcome!