N/A: Just a random one-shot. My first fanfic published on here C:

Disclaimer: The mighty J.K. Rowling owns this. And WB Pictures.

A snap of a twig creaked through the deep forest and disturbed Hermione from deep thoughts while she was watching the fire slowly fade. She made sure that her wand was still underneath her sweater and got up, brushing herself off the dirt and dries leaves, and went to look, what or who made that sound. She went slowly, carefully and silently. Now, she was far away from the tent. She could have told Ron and Harry that she was going away. Hermione wondered if she has already reached the magical boundaries that kept their place safe.
Then she heard it. Heavy footsteps. Rather man-like. Hermione doubted the person could be any good. Honestly, who was after them? Mainly the Deatheaters, which as well meant basically the whole Ministry of Magic.

'Lost, are we?'

Hermione jumped. The voice was right behind her. Her mind started to race, but a shiver already found a way down her spine.

'Can'tcha talk or what?', said the man behind her, reached for her shoulder. She gasped and turned to him, right face to face, opened her mouth to scream, but he he put his finger tightly on her lip.

'Shush it, dear. It won't help ya.'

'What do you want?' Hermione spoke through the finger, her eyes set upon the man, glinting with awareness.

'Oh, nothin' much yet. Just to introduce yerself...and no screams.' That didn't calm Hermione much. The man lowered his finger a few inches and leant her against a tree.

'So, my lovely. What's your name?' Hermione took a deep breath to get some time while thinking whether to lie or not. Of course, she knew, who this guy is. A snatcher. A man, who catches people on the run. And she was on the run. He surely has some list of wanted people. She would be suprised if her name wasn't there.

'Penelope Clearwater,' Hermione said, trying to make her voice sound as convincing as possible.

The bloke raised his upper lip in a parody of smile: 'And your blood status?'

Hermione didn't care if Penelope was a mudblood. She probably was, because she was petrified by a Basilisk, too. Anyway, she lied already, she could as well lie again. The word: 'Half-blood,' has confidently slipped her lips.

'Let's pretend, I'll believe you.' Scabior grinned and grabbed her wrist and started to walk. Hermione half-jogged unceremonously behind him. 'Let's take you outta here. I gotta show you to the mates of mine.' He walked a few yards further, than grabbed her tightlier and disapparated.

The light of a fire glinted at trees around the place, where a few men sat around. One guy turned his melon-sized head and yelled: 'Oh, here he comes. What have ya found, Scab?'

Scabior shoved Hermione closer to them: 'A little lamb got lost.' The answer was just amused laugh, which made Hermione's guts turn. Those men felt just...sick. Especially the one, she knew before. His name was Fenrir Greyback and he was a werewolf. He slithered around there, trying to touch and smell her.

'Calm down, Mr. Werewolf!' shouted Scabior and pulled Hermione aside. Greyback grunted and sat back.

'I'm gonna take you to my own tent.' Hermione just shoke with discomfort. She didn't want to do anything with him. She wanted to be back with Ron. Although, he didn't behave quite well these days. But it was because of the Locket. The terrible Horcrux. They have to kill it...and now she is gone. She realised, that Harry and Ron are perhaps going to search her. Hermione had no idea, where she was. Forest. That was all that could be seen around. Suddenly, she tripped over a stump. That woke her up from the dizzy thinking. Scabior stood with her in front of the tent. Small, just like the one, where she's been sleeping every day since they have to live in forests. Scabior pushed her in it and followed her himself.

'Sit.' A simple command. Hermione decided better to obey and sat on a shaky, wooden chair next to the bed with dirty blanket and no pillow. 'He knelt in front of her and his face was like two inches from hers.

'Don't try to escape, dear. It would be pointless...and maybe even painful.'

Hermione nodded, still a bit scared, but she already faced her faith. And...Scabior didn't seem that much of evil. He didn't kill her right away, nothing.

Then he leaned even closer and Hermione closed her eyes, letting happen whatever it was. When nothing happened and she opened her eyes again, Scabior was already gone. Hermione gasped and stood up to get to know the Snatcher's tent. Well, it as bad as she imagined. It was all dirty, but...he lives in a forest. That thought made Hermione giggle a bit. No, she just meant that he doesn't live in a house. Like her right now. She shook her head. She mustn't compare Scabior to her. He's the bad one. And she? God, you travel with Harry Potter, Hermione spoke to herself. She paced around the room. Low bed, the chair, a desk, well, if a few planks can be named a table. Hermione couldn't expect anything like a photo in a nice frame on a table, of course. But she didn't get how can anyone live in such a dirt like this. Hermione sat back on the chair and lay her head on the table, trying to close her eyes and sleep.

She was already in half-sleep, when she felt someone's presence. Scabior was back.

'Greyback is an idiot. He tried to get here and-,' Hermione gasped at the realisation what could happen. 'Honestly, I wouldn't do that.' Scabior stepped closer to her. She quickly got up and made her way to exit, but the 'door' that led inside wasn't there. Hermione couldn't believe her eyes.

'Suprised? I would expect the brightest witch of her age should realise there's no exit after the long time, wouldn't she? What do you think...Hermione Granger...a Mudblood, that travels with Potter.' Hermione's eyes filled with tears. 'H-how do you know?'

'Do you think I wouldn't recognise you after watching your photo every day in the Daily Prophet?' He now walked slowly to her. 'But I don't mind you're a filthy mudblood.' he was now a few feet from her. She raised her hands as a weak defence. 'I can't...'
'Yes, you can, love.' he said, raised her up on her feet and kissed her deeply. Hermione almost shook with disgust, but it wasn't a harsh kiss. In fact, it was thoughtful and caring. She wondered where Scabior got those feels. And she started to feel guilty for liking it.

Hermione pulled away, taking deep breath. 'I- I mustn't do it. I-I love...'

'Who d'you love? Potter? Weasley? For God's sake, you're worth thousands of 'em.'

Hermione blushed again, when he came closer and kissed her once more. A sprinkling feel of happiness flew over her body and she let that feeling overtake her. She's never experienced anything like this.

N/A: Thought? Reviews much appreciated :3 Thanks for reading.