Author's Note: In a rare instance where I post on AO3 first, here's a slice of PURE, UNADULTERATED TRASH, written solely out of love for my best friend who is shameless "crack ship trash" (in her words lol). This is also the unintended start of my "Harry Potter Ship Challenge," in which I write ships of my choosing that is NOT my usual OTP (Harmony).

No flames tolerated here. Ship and let ship (especially since yours truly does NOT ship this lol)

Originally Posted on AO3: Oct. 13, 2023

Lust in the Woods

She should not have come out here.

Standing at the edge of her protective barrier, a literal breath away from certain death, her eyes followed the Snatchers trek past, oblivious to her presence.

Except for one. A man who looked to be in his late twenties, turned slowly, sniffing the air, and Hermione locked eyes with him, although he didn't know it.

He was filthy, matted, and, appallingly, handsome.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She should not find the enemy attractive.

Perhaps it was because the only men she had been around for months were Harry and Ron. Perhaps it was the night air. Perhaps it was the thrill of being inches away from being caught.

Perhaps she was going around the bend.

Nothing else could explain the enormous wave of desire flooding her senses as the filthy yet handsome Snatcher drew closer to her, his callous fingers reaching out and brushing against the resistance of her protective charms.

His lips parted, as if in surprise, and it took every ounce of self-control for Hermione to stop herself from stepping out of the boundary and letting him take her. What was going on? This wasn't normal, she should be terrified, not contemplating capture and being bound by this man and his motley crew—

"Scabior? You comin'?"

Hermione flinched, forgetting they still had company, although they did not look rushed, just mildly curious as to what was holding him up.

"In a mo'," Scabior answered, staring intently at the spot where Hermione stood, invisible to his eyes. "You lot go on without me. I'll sniff you out later."

It must not be a particularly unusual request from their companion, or the other Snatchers simply did not care, for they continued on without protest. Hermione's heartbeat quickened; the two of them were now totally alone.

Scabior continued to brush his fingers against the barrier, murmuring, "Come on, lovely. Show yourself."

Hermione took a shuddering breath, her body flushing with heat and yearning. With trembling fingers, she raised her hand and "met" his fingers on the other side of the barrier.

He inhaled sharply, and Hermione knew he could sense her touch.

They continued this dance with their hands: Scabior shimmied his fingers one direction, Hermione's ghosted over his touch. Their faces drew closer - dangerously - closer, until their lips were only separated by an invisible veil of magic.

Scabior's eyes darkened and Hermione knew that her face was as flushed as her body felt, and she desperately wanted this man to do things to her. She wanted him to bury his nose in her neck and leave marks that would last for days, she wanted him to push her up against a tree and let his primal instincts send her to blissful oblivion….

Scabior sighed deeply, and Hermione gasped at the proximity of his mouth so close yet so far. "You smell amazing, sweet'eart," his voice whispered hoarsely, muffled by Hermione's protective charms, but sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. "Come on out, and lemme see your face."

For a wild moment, Hermione considered letting down the barrier and letting him inside, if only for extra privacy. But then, she thought of the boys back in the tent, and knew that if she must have a release, it would not be at the cost of their lives.

Even if it meant risking her own. Because goddamn it, Hermione Granger certainly needed a release!

Steeling herself, Hermione stepped past the boundary.

Scabior didn't react nearly as shocked as she'd imagined, though his eyes did widen as she suddenly materialized in front of him, nearly chest to chest.

Then, he smiled, a slow, hungry smile that nearly knocked Hermione's knees together. His was a smile that said "oh the things I will do to this bitch," and "I could eat you up and I fully intend to, like it or not," and "you know you want me."

But the only words he spoke aloud was, "Hello, beautiful."

Their lips crushed together before he finished speaking. Scabior's rough hands groped through Hermione's clothes, while her fingers fumbled with his belt.

"Quick work, eh, love?" Scabior gasped between kisses and removal of clothing. "Will ya at least tell me your name first?"

"You may call me Rose," Hermione blurted out. Even now, lost in this madness, she knew better than to reveal her true identity.

"Rose….. Like the smell of your ….enticing perfume…." Scabior murmured as he planted kisses on her neck and nipped at her skin with his sharpened canines. He must be part-werewolf, Hermione reasoned, shivering at the thrill of his teeth brushing over her vulnerable veins.

"You made a mistake comin' out here, love…. Because now I'll make you mine, and you can't stop it." He pulled away from her lips, burying his hand in her hair and pulling on it till she was forced to tilt her head upwards. "Try it if you want; I'll just keep goin'. You teased me long enough behind that bloody barrier of yours."

"Like I would even bother trying to stop you," Hermione whispered harshly back. "I came out here for precisely one reason and you better give it to me, or else I'll disappear back behind the barrier."

"Beautiful Rose, I 'ave no intention of letting you go."

Hermione whimpered against the crushing of their lips, clutching Scabior's coat to keep herself upright. When his arms encircled her waist, she instantly wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her up and carried her over to a nearby tree, not bothering to slow down as the back of her head made a rough impact. .

The bark pressed up against her back; it was rough, uncomfortable, painful, but Scabior's lips were on hers again and his erection was pressing insistently between her legs and Hermione found herself not caring.

"Please…" she begged, grinding her hips, drawing out a series of grunts from her lover.

"Love, I'm gonna have to take off–"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Hermione said with a huff, and fumbled in her back pocket for her wand and made a sweeping movement.

Their clothes dropped to the ground, without a tear on them or needing to move out of the way at all.

"Bloody brilliant witch you are," Scabior said admirably, lining up his member to her entrance.

"Talk less," Hermione gasped, as he sheathed himself inside. "Just fuck me."

Needless to say, despite the frigid air, despite the tree's bark digging into her spine and ass cheeks, despite literally fucking a fucking Snatcher, Hermione Granger found it to the best shag she had in a long time, and for many years afterwards.