And more development (not sure I like it...eh, whatever, I have to head to work). I'm planning on having two, maybe three more chapters. A confrontation with Greyback and then an epilogue. Time to wrap this up, because I want to work on one of my other fics for NaNoWriMo. If you have a specific preference for that, think I should do a certain one first, leave it in a review or hit the Tumblr.

Riley looked at herself in the mirror. She was dressed up, and felt so vulnerable. The dress, with its layers of crinoline, poofed out. The way she would have loved as a child. The lack of a neck and sleeves left her open to stares; her charms didn't do much to hide the scars.

She was having trouble with the heels, thin and tall. Like walking on knives.

Jeremy had bought the dress and shoes, presented them to her after dinner one night; his parents were having a dinner party and he wanted her to wear it. Supposedly he thought of her as soon as he saw it.

They had attended Hogwarts together, they had discovered. He remembered her being in Ravenclaw. He was a Slytherin.

That was the only thing she found he had in common with Scabior. And that scared her.

She was so used to the Snatcher. He may have been a decade older than her, but he was all she knew. The only man she had ever willingly bedded. The only man she really knew, and knew her.

When Riley really thought about it, she had no one. She didn't have friends, she had acquaintances. She had a father, but they hadn't spoken in a while.

The only other person she had for months was Scabior. Extremely unhealthy, in reality.

She still wore the fox, the ring that ultimately saved her.

Hands smoothed out the dark blue fabric of the skirt, embroidered with shimmering bronze thread. It was a beautiful dress. But he wasn't the one she should have been wearing it for.

"Why are you so set in your ways, Riley? You're twenty. C'mon," she muttered, heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she went to grab her cloak by the door.

Sighing, she opened the elevator door that served as her front door, and stepped into the lift, heading down to meet Jeremy. She wanted to chicken out. This was…no, people would stare at her. Pity her. She'd have to sit there and hope the color on her face hid the scars. She had slid on the eye-patch because she didn't want to freak people out with her eye.

Anxiety set in. She punched the button to take her back up, but it seemed to think otherwise. Mocking her. She had no choice but to step out of the lift, since Jeremy was right there. Couldn't back out now.

Riley sighed, and stood in front of him, looking up. He looked startled, shocked at her appearance (either at her sudden presence or how she looked, it was impossible to tell). He smiled awkwardly, murmured words of affection and told her she looked amazing before offering his arm.

She mentally checked off another box; he was clearly proper in some form. Scabior was polite, proper to a point, but never really formal about it.

Apparating out of London, she found herself outside a small manor, and led up stone stairs through a foyer. It was extravagant, luxurious in the over-the-top way. Crystal chandeliers, wallpaper that belonged five centuries in the past. She found it ridiculous, over the top, ugly.

He didn't dance with her; she wasn't even introduced to his parents (that's a critical part, she was sure) His attention was ensnared by a red-head in black. There had been a few men who either pitied her or thought her worth their time, she couldn't tell. Some asked about her eye-patch; she claimed to simply be blind in that eye. Easier than admitting she looked like a half-breed freak.

Everyone had said their goodbyes, leaving Riley subject to Jeremy's arms. He had wrapped an arm around her waist possessively, but his hand was resting on her bottom. Even with all of the crinoline between her and his hand, it was uncomfortable. She felt disgusted. She tried to move his hand up, but it just sat below the small of her back again.

She sighed softly. She was making comparisons again.

Riley was led upstairs, and she knew it had to be coming. He felt like he had done something for her (although he hadn't, he had left her for the much prettier red-head with very long legs). And so, he felt he was owed compensation.

Her mind wasn't as panicked as she expected it to be. She was fine with the kissing, a bit sloppy but she could overlook that. Clumsy hands looking for the zipper of her dress. He was either used to the Hogwarts uniforms or far more inexperienced. The growl in his throat said it all when her dress fell to the floor, and his hands found her breasts. Nope, just not used to dresses.

She had made quick work of his tie and shirt, suspenders and trousers. She was working more than he was, sucking at the hollow of his neck, trailing lips down his chest. She stopped at his hips, working her way back up.

He hadn't done anything except grab at her chest. She looked at him, not confused but rather annoyed.

"Isn't this a bit fast, considering we've known each other, what, three months?" She asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Not really, no," he replied, fingering the lace at her hips. "I wouldn't think you'd care anyway…"

"What?"

"Riley, look at you. You're marked for life. You hide your one eye because you can't stand it yourself. Your scars…" He trailed his other hand over her cheek, fingers right over each scar as if he were opening them himself. "no one's going to want you. So I suggest you be grateful I'm willing."

Oh, she knew someone far more willing than him. As if he were Merlin's gift to women. Really.

She shook off his hand, anger rising, sitting in her chest. She'd been taken advantage of once, it wasn't going to happen again.

Riley picked up the dress, zippered it with ease, and slipped her heels back on with far more grace than she thought she had.

"And who said you could leave?" Jeremy held the door closed, looking down at her with an equal fury. "Get on the bed, and you'll leave alive, although unable to walk."

"As if I need you to tell me what to do." She growled. "And I highly doubt that last remark." She cast a glance down at his manhood.

It had left his pride wounded enough for her to make it out of the bedroom and attempt to Apparate back to the London. She succeeded; surely they would have had wards up in the house? Or Jeremy was just showing off when he had taken her through the front door.

She had walked into the café, surprising Emily.

It was just past nine. Heels clicked on the tiled floor, the dress obviously hastily put on. The older woman took in her boss' appearance. Make-up smudged, hair a mess.

"Can I have some tea, Emily? If the kettle's still hot." The shock of it finally hitting her, her voice cracking slightly as she sat down trembling.

"No problem."

Riley ripped off the covering on her eye, finding it wet with tears. She grabbed a napkin and wiped her eyes, the way one does while trying to keep some eyeliner intact. Her breathing was shaky, and her hands wouldn't stay still.

Emily brought over a cup of tea, dark and steaming, along with a small cup of milk and the sugar bowl. Riley attempted to do it herself, once with magic and once without, but her hand wasn't steady enough and both times she managed to dirty the table with white crystals.

She leaned back in the chair, trying to keep herself together. Were all men her age like that? Did he think she willingly fucked Greyback? That she just happened to piss him off and it went bad? Her self-esteem had finally risen a bit only to plummet when he said no man would want her. Bullshit. The opinion of one man mattered little, didn't it?

She had failed to notice the fox on finger had dashed off again until the golden bolt of light darted across the floor and hopped onto the table, curling up again.

Riley would have found the sight of a panting Scabior standing in the doorway high amusing if she wasn't trying to hold herself together.

He caught his breath as he strode over to her, taking in her appearance. He had never seen high heels on her feet, never seen her in a dress. She looked…so unworthy of him. No, rather, he was unworthy of her.

"I wasn't in danger. He doesn't really have much bite to his bark, pardon the pun." Riley said softly.

Emily shifted awkwardly, and then excused herself, heading to the storeroom to count the day's earnings.

"I know. Just a spoiled brat who thinks 'e's entitled." He took the vacated spot, placing his hands over hers, which were wrapped around the cup of tea. "'e didn't..?"

"No. When there's no response and you're doing most of the work, something's wrong." She let out a tiny sardonic laugh. "Not to mention he told me no man would want me. That I should grateful he was willing." An eye-roll this time, because they both knew that was ridiculous.

"'e should be grateful he got to see you all dolled up. 'cause 'e didn't deserve that, let alone you in 'is bed." He pulled his hands away from hers, which gave her the chance to drink her tea.

"Why did…?" She wiggled her finger on which the ring sat as she drank, looking at him with smudged eyes.

"You thought o' me."

"I've thought of you plenty of times and this thing's remained motionless."

"Well, you thought o' me an' then realized somethin', that's the only way I can explain it without ruinin' it."

"I made comparisons the whole night, I don't…"

"Yeah, but why? Why would you make comparisons, Riley? This should be easy for you, c'mon."

"Because I love you, I mean…I thought that was obvious. I just haven't said it."

It was Scabior's turn to roll his eyes. He leaned in, kissing her the way she liked, dominance but willing to be challenged, to be fought. He pulled away, kissing her forehead gently.

"By the way, love, you look beautiful."