Don't Drink and Snatch
A/N: I know I swore I'd never write about this, but I guess every Scabior fan has to write this scene at least once. So this is my version of it, without the rape or general creepiness that comes with other Scabior and Hermione stories.
Scabior came stumbling down the hill behind the rest of his men, his vision blurred and his stomach churning uncomfortably. How he'd managed to run through the woods after these three he had no idea. But it didn't matter now, for they had caught their targets, and from the looks of things one of them was female.
"Well, 'ello my precious pet," he said, his words slurred as he leaned over in the red-head's face, the strong smell of alcohol wafting from his lips as he spoke. "Aren't you a lovely little thing. An wha exactly is your name?"
"What?" Ron looked at him in confusion as the drunken Snatcher reached out and gently stroked his hair.
"Shh, don't speak, love," Scabior whispered, holding a finger to Ron's lips to silence him. "There are Snatchers in these woods. Wouldn't want one of them to 'ear you, now would we, pet?"
Greyback sighed and rolled his eyes. "If you're looking for the girl, Scabior, she's over here."
"Oh, is she now?" said Scabior, his eyebrows raised as he looked at Hermione with interest. He walked over to her and started playing with her hair. "An you," he said. "You're my lovely. Wha do they call you?" He then leaned in a little too close, and accidentally drooled all down the front of her shirt while he was admiring her hair.
Hermione gasped, gazing down at the warm saliva that soaked the front of her shirt. Five seconds later Scabior took a step back and vomited on the ground at her feet.
"You're a pretty girl," said Scabior, wiping his mouth with his scarf. He then pointed at Ron and said, "But I think she is much nicer."