Hello, dear friends! Happy update to you all! Thanks for every review, and even the alerts and favorites. Keep making me happy, please. Oh, and we'll soon know what's happened to Harry and Ron. Have fun!
Inspirational music: Nothing else matters by Metallica (if you want, try the instrumental version by Apocalyptica with a very haunting fiddle)
Chap. 16 Fires
Hermione's skin was on fire. She lay on her side and was so unbelievingly hot as if she dwelled with heat-loving salamanders. She stirred but found she could not move.
Hermione's eyes fluttered open, revealing to her a sunlit textile wall which brought both light and warmth to her face. However, there was something behind her that warmed her back. Slightly disoriented by the dry air she tried to sit up when a hard thing put pressure on her abdomen and prevented her from getting up. Determined to get away from the heat around her, she pushed down the blanket and was grateful for the small measure of cooling until she glanced down and saw a strong arm speckled with brown hair tightly secured around her midsection.
'No, it can't be…' Hermione thought incredulously and craned her neck to manage a look over her shoulder. An utterly relaxed face in the midst of a tangle of brown waves and a red stripe confirmed the unlikely; Scabior slept behind her. And not just behind her.
She was suddenly aware of his whole front pressed into her which must have caused the overheating. She even felt his legs fitting into her form and could make out a soft noise of his trousers occasionally brushing against her jeans. Still, she had a hard time believing that Scabior had not returned to his mattress once she fell asleep.
The unconfident, doubting part of her told her the explanation simply had to be that he indeed had intended on leaving her but gotten tired and fallen asleep before he could. After all, why would he otherwise sleep in a narrow bed with an ill-looking, frightened mudblood girl? Unless, as another voice in her argued, he had chosen to stay with her. He was a man and as one maybe he had discovered something about her he liked. Had he not looked positively mesmerized yesterday by her lips? The memory alone made Hermione smile and she felt a pleasant flutter in her belly.
Suddenly she was overcome by the urge to once again feel Scabior's arm tense around her. She rested her head on the pillow, careful to appear as sleeping, should he wake up. Fighting down the wicked smile, she held her breath and thrust her hips forward. In response the muscles in Scabior's arm flexed and squeezed her stomach. She heard him let out a small growl that brought shivers down her spine despite her hot skin. She waited patiently until he relaxed his grip and breathed calmly again.
Quite pleased with herself, Hermione relished in the mixture of her Gryffindor courage and her newfound outrageous, almost Slytherin, behaviour and she decided to throw caution to the side. If everything she had fought for was going down as Voldemort seized the world, maybe it was time for her to enjoy the touch of a man before she too perished. Hermione felt no guilt whatsoever for wanting some intimacy while others suffered. It hurt too much to think about the world outside this warm tent.
Intent on getting her bliss she moved the opposite way this time, wriggling into the naked torso of Scabior. Unconsciously he cocooned her body and she gladly endured the heat in return for his protecting proximity. Then something unexpected happened. Scabior inched himself even closer and buried his nose in her hair.
All confidence left Hermione and she became more nervous than smug. She heard him breathe in near her ear, just like he had done that day he snatched her. Was he still asleep? Before Hermione had time to ponder it she felt something hard press into her lower back.
'Oh, God! Is that…?' she thought and tried to get away from Scabior's firm grasp. Unfortunately her movements made him once more hold her down and she heard him groan against her head as her body rubbed against that hard part of him. This had certainly not happened when she had slept next to Harry! Her face flushed with embarrassment and she felt the blood heat up until it boiled within her. She barely recognized that the fluttering had returned. At that particular moment it hit her that she was not scared by Scabior or his male body.
Despite the incident earlier with the awful snatcher, Hermione now willingly trespassed the border to the adult land of fire, frenzy, lust and desire.
The revelation made her flinch with her still unsure face, whereas her beating heart warmed her body to an almost unbearable degree. In her core she felt an unrelenting need for more from Scabior. But that need frightened her. Overwhelmed by her conclusion in the sunny morning, Hermione found herself longing for some time alone, away from the tight embrace, to clear her head and find logic among her thoughts. She put her hand on the strong forearm, not unaware of how the brown hair tickled her palm.
"Scabior? Wake up."
After shaking his arm gently to rouse him, Hermione heard a sharp intake of air and felt how he swiftly removed himself entirely from her. Immediately she cooled down but she kind of missed the gone moment of stillness and, well, half innocent intimacy. Now it was impossible to further delay the merciless course of time. She tuned to lie on her back and found herself trapped under the intense gaze of a snatcher.
'Dammit! Dammit to Merlin pissing his pants!'
It was the first thing that came to Scabior's mind as he bolted to a seated position on a very soft and very familiar bed. He spotted the female with the unruly curls beside him and watched how she turned around. He was truly amazed by her feature as a golden shimmer from the canvas lit up her reddened cheeks and slightly damp forehead, making her look like something to hold onto and keep safe and treasure forever.
He shook his head disbelievingly; why had he not woken up early like he used to? 'I'm loosing my touch here,' he reprimanded himself before he became aware of a part of him that indeed had risen, and he was painfully reminded of it.
Little Scabior was very aroused, straining eagerly against the abrasive fabric of his pants. And Scabior remembered how he only seconds ago had lay pressed into Hermione. This was a new experience for Scabior; he had never stayed the night or been in a relationship long enough to wake up next to an already awake woman. 'How to sneak out of this with elegance?' He cleared his throat.
"Morning."
'Great line! Really smooth, you fucker!'
She remained on her back but replied softly, "Good morning, yourself."
'Okay, no hostility here. I can work with this.'
"I usually get up early, but, ya know, 'ectic night an' nice bed. Sorry 'bout squeezing the air out o' ya, love. I wasn't aware o' it, 'onestly." He could tell his cheeks were heating up, a very rare occurrence, and knew he was nervous as his accent became thicker. He cast a quick, apologizing glance at Hermione who chose to smile at him, making herself even more beautiful and causing his hard on to jump in the process.
"How's your nose today?"
She completely threw him off the track but he decided to leave his pathetic explanations and go for the offered change of subject.
"Fine, it's just fine. You're really handy with a wand." he grinned and brought up his left hand to investigate his healed nose.
She paled and stared in terror at him, or rather, at the exposed underside of his arm where a black skull with a snake crawling out of it's mouth were carved into his skin.
One silent heartbeat, two silent heartbeats. She inched away from him despite the fact that she could only move a small distance before she reached the tent wall.
Five heartbeats, six heartbeats. He clutched his arm to cover the Dark Mark that he had not minded before this woman entered his life and turned everything upside-down.
Ten, eleven, twelve. He searched for her eyes, trying to get her to meet his gaze. She promptly lowered her mocha brown pools of goodness, innocence and faith, only seeing the wrinkled blanket that rested on the bed where the two of them had slept together. She avoided him.
"'Ermione, ya know I have it, right?" Scabior croaked and suddenly felt very naked without his vest and coat. She shook her head, speaking to the bed, "I haven't seen you in daylight without your clothes on."
"Well, now you know. I wear the Dark Mark day and night. I'm a snatcher and, if you can put it that way, a minor Death Eater," he stated in a business-like tone but steadied himself for whatever may be Hermione's response. After a torturous minute of silence she spoke.
"I would want some time to myself now, please."
Worried by the lack of fight, Scabior frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
"I need to gather my thoughts, to think a little. Can you leave me alone for a couple of hours?"
A sting in his chest assaulted him after her request but Scabior fought down the acid taste of rejection. "Okay, beautiful," he said slowly. "I'll go to town and buy supplies and check for news about the Dark L...eh, the current boss of the world."
He got up from the bed, not feeling the slightest excitement anymore and went to fetch his clothes. As he dressed he was sure he could touch the sudden cold tension in the warmed-up tent. Once his boots were on he picked up his discarded wand from the floor and went for the doorway. He stopped in front of it and turned to Hermione who still lay curled up on the bed. She refused again to meet his gaze.
"I've put up a new ward on the tent so no-one except me can get inside. But you can leave the tent if you wish. Just don't consider running away, 'cause my snatchers are keeping an eye on you for me. They won't harm you unless they want me to kill them. I'm off."
He stepped out to meet a glorious spring morning that even the dark powers ruling Britain could not prevent with their dark magic. A scent of burnt sausage and toasted bread filled his nose when the gentle wind went through the camp and across the open fire where a bunch of men prepared their breakfast.
Upon hearing steps on the ground, Rusty lifted his head and saw his boss standing amidst the burning flames of the camp fire. At least it looked like that since Rusty sat on the other side of the fire. Still, it was a rather eerie image in the otherwise calm, sunny morning.
Scabior felt a tad unhinged after the odd exchange between him and Hermione but figured that maybe he could use some time alone too and get his act together. Snatchers were not known for being considerate to people. Nor did the few of them who had earned the honour hide their Dark Marks to calm down women. Scabior felt lost, this was not him.
He kicked the ground and brushed some strands away from his face before he walked up to his snatchers, sensing they needed their somewhat absent leader.
"Hello, lads! Sunny side up, huh?" he joked, referring both to the eggs in the frying pan and the sunrise. Rusty and another man grinned but the others just yawned, still tired.
"Mornin', boss. All well with the bird?" Rusty said carefully, not seeking to provoke his leader. Scabior shrugged and said indifferently; "Yeah, she's doing great, 'cept she's very cheeky. Nicks my food whenever I'm not looking. You'd be surprised by how much a gal can eat." The audience raised their eyebrows in wonder at this new information.
"But you put the mudblood in place, right?" a man grunted before he spit on the bonfire. The others scoffed at him for nearly ruining the breakfast. Snatcher rule No. 17 stated: "Don't come between a fellow snatcher and his food, or you can expect smaller bollocks". Lucky for Scabior, his men got too distracted by the criminal to listen for an answer to Scabior's lie. He did not want to mention anything about Hermione, really, but realized that she may come outside and meet his men today. He had to prepare them for that.
"Oi! Listen, you tossers!"
They calmed down and gave him their attention.
"I'm going to Leeds again. Gotta buy food for myself and her, and perhaps find something for you lot." Suddenly the gang looked like a pack of hungry and greedy dogs.
"Whatcha gonna buy fer us, boss?" Rusty asked curiously.
Scabior pinched his nose in annoyance. Sometimes he thought his men were too childish for this job, only caring about their food. But they were the best snatchers in the country and their snatcher nature made them catch people easily under his command. At least they had done that until a week ago when they snatched the famous trio and handed over two thirds of it to the Dark Lord. Now, with no new orders or lists from the Ministry and silence from the Dark Lord, the snatcher gang became more and more restless. That explained why they suddenly only were concerned about getting food.
In a way, the hunt for food was a replacement for the hunt for people, although a poor one. They needed to use energy, just like Scabior. He sighed.
"Alright, I'll tell you. You're gonna get something that's not from before the winter. I don't know what I'll find, but I'll buy something fresh for you, okay?"
They looked sated with his answer so he continued. "Now, boys. I'll be gone for a couple of hours. Make sure at least on of you stays in the camp all the time, 'cause I might need you to look after my prisoner. You see, I gave her permission to go outside as long as she stays in the camp. Should she try to escape, catch her and keep her here until I return. But no funny business with her! She's mine. You got that?"
They nodded obediently but in his mind Scabior hoped that Hermione would not choose to run off, since a fidgety snatcher is an unstable snatcher.
He gave the men a casual wave and went to his usual spot for disapparating. On the way he felt he needed to go somewhere and think through his behaviour with Hermione 'Boy, I need a drink!" he thought before he concentrated and felt the ordinary pull of his navel.