Here's my treat for you: a new fun chapter, mostly about Scabior. Aren't you a lucky lot? Please read and review.
Inspirational music: Drunken sailor by Irish rovers or The Sandsacks
Chap. 7 Fountains
Scabior slept like a unicorn foal until around 2 p.m. Apparently he had been exhausted from yesterday's events and discoveries, for he could not remember having any dreams at all. Now he felt like the usual energy had returned and he was in a good mood, despite everything. When he had eaten a piece of bread and some cheese, he decided to not think about his special interest in the woman until he was alone. Right now, his snatchers needed him to give them orders. He strolled outside and was met by a curios sight. His men stood together and mumbled while they glanced at a passed out Greyback lying on the snow-covered ground on his stomach in a very awkward angle. One of the snatchers saw the leader and Scabior lifted an eyebrow in query about the scene. The man beckoned to him to come over to the gathering. It was hardly difficult for the experienced Scabior to sneak by the snoring werewolf and join his fellows.
"What's going on out here?" he muttered to them.
Rusty answered with a subdued voice, "The beast o'er there wasn't satisfied with takin' most of our meat. Then 'e wanted our booze too. The one we lads didn't steal, but bought with our own dough! 'E drank all morning 'til 'e fell asleep."
"Why didn't you hex him? I know you know some nasty spells."
Another snatcher cleared his throat, which earned him a lot of hushing form the others.
"Boss, he threatened to bite us when we were least expecting it if we refused him. And besides, what can we do against the Dark Lord's little pet without getting into trouble?" The whole group turned their concerned faces towards Scabior who could almost touch the depression that floated in the air. He tensed his jaw in response to Greyback's audacity and knew that the time for revenge had arrived.
"You're all aware of snatcher rule No. 15. No one steals from another snatcher. The Dark Lord permits us our rules. I reckon we're entitled to payback." Many set of teeth appeared as the whole gathering grinned with Scabior, even the now sober but black and blue Lackie.
"So, if we can't hex him without risking our arses we have to find another way to bother him," Scabior reasoned before he queried, "Any ideas, gentlemen?"
After some seconds of shuffling, Rusty pulled out his hand from the pocket of his hideous coat and opened it for everyone to see the small orange sweet in his palm. As if sensing the confusion he whispered quickly, "Bought it for a knut from a salesman in Knockturn Alley. I 'eard 'im describe these as cruel weapons if yer enemies eat one."
Scabior picked up the pastille and held it between his thumb and index finger to examine it closer.
"What does it do, Rusty?" he asked with suspicion. There were many objects with dark magic circuiting in the wizarding world now that the Ministry was on their side and had ceased to control products. Rusty shrugged, "'Fraid I dunno, boss. That man only promised that the one who ate this would be sorry. Figured it could be fun ta try it on Greyback an' see what it does to 'im."
"Excellent idea! We can always blame the bad booze if he wonders what happened," Scabior said with praising voice. This could indeed be fun to watch.
"Those in favor of giving our dog a treat with unknown ingredients?" Every snatcher raised their hands at the same time. Scabior understood Greyback had gone too far when he took their alcohol. Hell hath no fury like a snatcher robbed.
"Okay, who volunteers to Levitate this shit down his throat?" he asked, wanting to see if there was a brave man in his group, but expecting he himself would have to do the dirty work. Surprisingly, Lackie bowed to him, even though he winced a little from his bruises. "I'd be 'appy an' 'onoured ta execute yer orders, boss." Scabior smirked to himself, 'Someone's trying to get into my good grace again.' But Scabior would lie if the action did not please him. He wanted his snatchers to earn his respect by carrying out his orders.
"Fine Lackie, you'll put this in Greyback's mouth." He passed the orange sweet to Lackie who without hesitation waved his wand and levitated the pastille to Greyback's sleeping form. Once the beast grunted and opened his mouth the pastille flew by his sharp teeth and down his throat. Greyback coughed before he snapped open his wild eyes. A moment later retching sound was heard as he started to throw up. And not just throw up. It looked fan-fucking-tastic when cascades were forced out of his mouth. The pastille seemed to make the consumer sick and, obviously, rendering him unable to do anything about it. When Greyback stood on all four and fought to breath between vomits and clutched his stomach, Scabior mentally high-fived himself. The others around him snickered at the display until Greyback found his wand and wheezed out, "Finite Incantatem".
'Oh pity. Fun's over," thought Scabior and watched how Greyback struggled to stand up. He took a deep breath before he roared, "Who the fuck did this!" The snatchers continued to laugh as Scabior said indifferently, "Maybe it was something wrong with the booze you drank, Greyback. You should take it more easy next time, or bring your own liquor. One can never trust them vendors."
Scabior smiled innocently to him and began to finger his ring. Greyback walked menacingly towards him with flames in his eyes. Immediately the whole group sobered up and gathered around Scabior like a protective hippogriff horde against a threat. Scabior sharpened his voice, "Look, you won't rob my snatchers again. Perhaps future drinks might contain something more dangerous..." Greyback snarled aggressively, "I knew I couldn't trust you lot. The Dark Lord will hear about this!"
"Oh," Scabior said falsely haltingly, "So you would run off and bother the busy Dark Lord with your silly problem? After all, it was you who drank so much stolen alcohol you began to throw up. We all saw it, right boys?"
All the snatchers confirmed this with equally honest faces. Greyback looked positively mad now and reached for his wand in his belt. It did not take two seconds before the group aimed their own wands and Scabior had a smug look on his face.
"Or maybe it would be best for everyone if you just leave us? Find yourself another snatcher group to annoy, will you?"
Greyback opened his mouth and dove for Scabior, intending to bite his neck. Luckily with impressing rapidity, Scabior jumped to the side and raised his fist. He managed to hit Greyback squarely on the cheek with striking force. Greyback fell to the ground and screamed with pain as he pressed his hands to the injured cheek. Scabior had never thought about his silver ring as a good weapon against raging werewolves. He put his shoe on Greyback's throat and put some weight on it. Greyback struggled to breathe but Scabior did not budge. He leaned down and purred, "Leave now, you fucking mad dog." He stepped down and watched amused how Greyback took up his wand and Apparated.
It was like being released from Azkaban. All tension left them at once and the happy cheers sounded deep into the forest. Scabior received a lot of appreciation but he knew he had to share the glory. He rested his arms on Rusty's and Lackie's shoulders and declared to everyone around, "Gents, I think we should thank these fellows too. Now, without Rusty and his lethal pills from hell, it would have been hard to find something else to chase away Wolfie with." He squeezed his arm affectionately around Rusty's neck.
"And thanks to Lackie's phenomenal wand skills we could all enjoy the display of Greyback, the vomiting werewolf!" Several snatchers lay on the ground now, roaring with laughter. Even Scabior began to snigger despite his attempt to keep a straight face. He composed himself though, before he would ruin his black paint around the eyes and decided to re-establish order in his camp.
"Alright you crazy bastards, time to work. I want a pair of you to go to Leeds and get us a lot of booze from the pub. Give the innkeeper my kindest regards and I'll bet he gives you the Firewhiskey for free. I want someone to clean up this mess on the ground. Melt snow, we better go easy on the water supply. The rest of you, do something useful." A feverish activity began when everyone eagerly wished to obey Scabior's orders. He called, "Hey, Rusty! Come here. I want to take a look on those teenagers." Rusty joined Scabior and they marched away. Or more accurately; Scabior marched while Rusty almost bounced with excitement.
"That knockout was brilliant, boss! I would nevva' mess with ya after that performance. An' did ya see 'ow the cheeky bugger looked like a fucking fountain?"
"Yeah, quite the resemblance," Scabior agreed. "What the hell are you buying, Rusty?" The happy man was keen on explaining, "I wasn't sure before, but now I remember. Last year my wee niece got a box with sweets, like those vomiting pastilles, from that orange joke shop in Diagon Alley. Ya know, with the ginger twin owners." Scabior nodded, "Ah, yes. Pity they belong to the blood traitor family the Weasley's. They could have earned a lot of money on inventing weapons for our side. Wonder what they would say if they knew their products were sold by cloaked men in Knockturn Alley these days." Rusty grinned with Scabior until they stopped beside the protecting shield. Scabior began to penetrate the invisible wall and Rusty waited patiently. "That's it. A new hole," Scabior proclaimed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, "Maybe I should go inside alone and see if they're casting protecting spells as often as before. I would hate it if one of us got caught." Rusty agreed but stayed by the hole to, if necessary, help Scabior should trouble appear.
Scabior moved swiftly, not wanting to be discovered if the couple sent spells regularly. He casted a Homenum Revelio and saw all three of them by the tent. Wait, all three? Frowning, he reached his hill and crawled the last distance to his usual spot. A small thump stirred his core when he could not see his woman. 'Probably inside,' he thought, appreciating the fact that she at least kept herself warm. The people he did see were not improving his mood. The dark man sat on a chair by the tent opening and talked to a ginger one. Scabior immediately thought of the Weasley's with their characteristic flaming hair. But he was not entirely sure, after all he lived in England: the land of gingers. Scabior smirked when the lanky man mumbled something to the sitting man. The darkhaired man looked very troubled and depressed. 'Maybe a cockblocker is in town.' Scabior's theory grew stronger when the woman appeared with tangled hair and a murderous look on her face.
"You're disturbing me! Talk somewhere else, please!
Scabior watched fascinated how the two men flinched and run off in opposite direction to him. 'Spineless little cowards,' he thought contemptuous and turned his gaze back to his woman. She wore a figure-hugging white sweater and dark jeans. He breathed out; she was so fucking beautiful, even with her wild curls that were caught in the wind. Then something happened that made Scabior's well concealed and deeply hidden heart throb. Tears escaped her eyes and ran down her rosy cheeks. She fell into the empty chair and covered her face with her hands. The trembles that shook her body were noticed by the snatcher, even from his position. When her scent reached him he could swear he caught saltiness among the vanilla and summer flowers. It pained Scabior that he was unable to comfort the poor girl. She looked so miserable that the longing in his limbs burned when he denied himself the bliss of holding her against him.
Suddenly the sad woman pulled out her wand and pointed it in midair. 'Time to get out of here.'
Scabior dashed away and crawled through the hole just in time. "Well Rusty, we can spy on them again but we ought to be more careful and only spy some minutes at a time. And there's another one now. A ginger, stupid looking boy." Rusty threw a confused look on the already retreating back of his unexpectedly gloomy boss before he hurried to catch up.