A/N: Omg though don't tell me it's late cause i already fuckn know and I am sooooo sorry! Hope you enjoy this one though! :) Thanks for reading!

This time, Mia ran before she started shouting, and thanks to this new method, she managed to make it four metres further than earlier before being tackled and shoved face first into the dirt.

"Goin' somewhere, are ya?" Scabior growled, grinding his groin into the back of her legs and forcing her wriggling arms to a stationary position.

"Fuck. Off." Mia retorted with such venom that Scabior realised she was not the sweet little girl he was planning on killing. Maybe he'd keep her around for a while. Teach her a lesson or two.

"Ya know I don't really appreciate that kinda language," Scabior hauled her up and wrenched her head closer to his mouth, "But seein' as you're not gonna give it up for me...I guess I'll have to give you a reason to."

Mia grimaced as he yelled, "Voldemort!"

There was a series of cracks and one roll of thunder. Mia froze.

"OI OI boys!" He boomed, gripping Mia so tightly she felt the feeling fading in her extremities, "You lads remember a little game called Finders Keepers?"

They all erupted into grins and cheers, clapping each other on the back and rubbing their hands together. Mia looked on in a horrified confusion. She scanned the crowd of around 7 men and one werewolf but found no girl. That meant that maybe Alice had escaped for real. Mia hoped with everything that she was still breathing.

"Right," Scabior placed on hand on Mia's neck, "Since we've lost out little Alice down the Rabbit 'ole, this is the only female we got to work with. Now, cause I'm so fond of 'er, the prize for the winner will be ten galleons, instead of the actual prize. Who's goin' first?" Scabior looked around for anyone stepping forward eagerly as he bound Mia's wrists with an invisible bond.

"Me." A youngish lean man stepped forward. He had a birds nest of golden hair, dark eyes and a cocky walk.

"What the fuck is this?" Mia spat, her eyes wide and arms trembling.

"Alrigh', for your benefit, I'll explain the rules." Scabior spun her around casually and tilted his chin up enough to look sufficiently arrogant.

Mia waited silently.

"Q, come 'ere." Scabior beckoned the guy over. He reminded Mia of the year 14s at college. He couldn't have been older than 19.

"Yes, boss?" He answered obediently, the smirk sitting comfortably on the lower half of his face.

"Right, my dear," Scabior untied Q's red armband and stepped behind him, tying it over his eyes, "Q cannot see ya. But 'e can 'ear ya, and feel ya..." Scabior stepped back over to her, "And smell ya." He brushed his nose past her hair. He snaked a hand through her arms and around her waist, "'E could probably even taste ya, if he got close enough...that is." Mia jerked her face away from his wandering teeth.

"What then?" Mia asked mutely, aware of all the eyes on her.

"He has to find something...about your person. And if 'e finds that he wins 10 galleons, and I...get you."

"I don't fuckin' think so." Mia leaned forward before whipping her head back and falling over. Where Scabior's chin should have been, there was nothing, and nothing to stop her flying backwards. She didn't expect him to actually have cat like reflexes. Lots of people fancied that him and Greyback had fought once and Scabior had left with only a very strategically placed scar, which of course meant that he was fast as lightening and had a keen sense of smell. Mia reckoned it was bollocks, but she wasn't sure what to reckon anymore.

"Hahahh, ah, nice try love, but I've seen better." Scabior giggled to himself.

Mia groaned, listening to her fingers click under her back.

"Up we get." Scabior grunted as he yanked her up by an elbow. He took a matchstick from his back pocket and jammed it into her underwear. "Right boys, step back." Scabior let go of her, adjusted Q's blindfold and leaned on a tree, rolling a cigarette and smiled.

Mia's head snapped from those dark circles of blue under his raised brows towards the now very awkward seeming man with knees slightly bent and arms outstretched. His cocky grin was smaller, although still present.

"Olly Olly Oxen Free." He called out, stepping forward without so much as the snap of a twig. He must have been a snatcher for a while before this shitty situation.

Mia once remembered practising wrestling moves with her older brother. Doing it on the trampoline hadn't made it any safer, but the amount of black eyes and broken ribs on both parts must have been better than what could have been. She lowered herself slightly and stepped back, trying not to shake in the cold. Ignoring the others as they watched in silent anticipation, she kicked a stray rock and sent it towards her right. Faster than expected, Q lunged towards the sound, his groin flying right towards the tip of her boot which she had stretched precariously out sideways. He doubled over and swiped round at her ankle, clutching on for dear life. The explosion of jeers and laughter was so loud to her it must have caused a heart palpitation.

"Get off!" She shrieked, allowing herself to lose balance so she could kick his hand away with the other foot.

"Ah, I've got ya now." He murmured on his knees, his other hand swinging around wildly for the only danger left. Mia tucked her leg up towards her chest and aimed for his face. But it only caught him on the brow and after a few grunts and wriggles, he pinned her under himself. "You little bitch." He muttered to thin air, hands by her immobile arms.

With a last exertion of strength, Mia snapped her head forward and caught him on the chin. Luckily for her, he was halfway through licking his lips when she had jammed his teeth together. He cried out in a strangled tone and fell back, ripping his blind fold off and touching his mouth. Blood poured out.

Mia struggled to her feet, scraping every available inch of her skin on the ground before standing upright. She glared at Q who was miserably hunched over a puddle of blood and wondered why no one was intervening. They were probably enjoying it, the sick fucks.

Heart racing and mouth dry, she marched over and stamped on his back. The last thing he saw before being dragged away was a glob of spit flying towards his face, courtesy of his planned victim.

A/N: This chapter could have been longer, yes, but please enjoy this small update! :)