Harry Potter 1. Running Into Trouble

Running Into Trouble

Eryan sprinted across the woods making sure the two muggle-born runaways stayed ahead of her. Annie and Jack were two truants Eryan had found in the woods almost a week ago while on a mission to distract Snatchers from finding Harry Potter. Being a cross breed herself meant the snatchers had something worth chasing. Her kind was even worse than muggle-borns and half-bloods. She remembered Umbridge on a brief visit back to Hogwarts, a sadist dressed in pink, who harboured a hatred for half breeds. This fact followed Umbridge around the Ministery like a bad smell. They hardly crossed paths being in different departments, which Eryan remained thankful for.

She remembered the disdain in Umbridge's eyes when they were introduced by Dumbledore. Now Umbridge sat in the Ministery dolling out punishment to those she hated, Eryan being on top of the list. That's when Eryan decided that working for the Ministery wasn't her style anymore. The snatchers were right behind them, three or maybe four running at top speed anxious to catch their prey.

It had been a stupid idea to visit their parent's house in the first place but the two siblings insisted that they would be safe. All they wanted to do was check if they were safely gone; appealing to Eryan's guarded emotions. They found the house in a complete mess with signs of struggle. It seemed highly doubtful that their parents were safe, upsetting both the siblings. Then Jack decided to be an idiot and voice out loud his hatred for the Dark Lord. The taboo took action straight away, leading to them running for their lives in a woodland area near Essex.

Eryan occasionally turned to cast a spell, searching for a place to hide for a few moments. Tree bark burst forward as spells hit them, dirt spraying the trio as they dodged more curses. She spotted a hill just a few yards away with a dyke at the bottom. Not the most perfect solution but it was she had. Wind roared in her ears as Eryan lunged forward grabbing both the muggle-born's hands and pulling them down the steep hill. They tumbled down the hill, leaves and dirt sticking to their already ruined clothes. Eryan felt slightly sick as she rolled down the hill. As they slowed down, Eryan stumbled to her feet ignoring the churning sensation in her stomach. Grabbing the dazed siblings by the collar she practically threw them in the dyke, before jumping down herself.

Water sloshed around their knees as Eryan rummaged through her pockets looking for her portkey she kept in case of emergencies. A battered old tennis ball sat in her hand.

"You two, take this, you'll be taken to a safe place, explain to whoever is there I sent you, hopefully they keep you safe," panted Eryan, thrusting a battered tennis ball into Jack's hand. The fourteen year old boy looked over in concern and fear.

"What about you?" he asked, flinching at the sound of the approaching snatchers. Eryan gave a weak smile trying to convince them she'd be ok.

"Its fine, I'll apparate when you go, now Annie, take the ball and go." Eryan demanded, concentrating on her own safe place.

The two siblings took the ball leaving with worried expressions. Eryan heard the first snatcher land in the dyke and quickly began to apprate. Something tugged on the bottom of her coat; the snatcher had just narrowly grabbed her before she'd completely apparated. They landed in the sand of a remote beach Eryan sometimes liked to visit when she had time for herself. It didn't happen very much in the present climate. She quickly scrambled to her feet aiming her ten inch, alder wand containing a dragon heartstring at the snatcher.

"Stupefy!" yelled the snatcher.

"Protego!" said Eryan, deflecting the spell back at him.

They both paused seeing each other for the first time in a clear manner without running away or straightening out their minds from the apparition. The man before her looked like he could do with a good wash. His hair was tied back in a loose braid with a red streak in it. A sudden and disturbing thought hit Eryan has she stared at the man. Dressed in a grungy assemble with the odd plaid trousers, Eryan was staring at her former best friend from Hogwarts, Scabior.

"Eryan?" he questioned, not quite believing the person who stood before him. But there she was looking exactly the same as the day they graduated Hogwarts together. Maybe a little dirtier and she'd grown her pale blonde hair out but still the same stubborn Eryan. They didn't speak for a few moments just staring as if someone had stunned them both. Seventeen years had passed, five of them with Scabior locked away in Azkaban. The effects of which showed on his face, his grey eyes so much more jittery than before.

"Are you goin' to say anythin' love?" he asked, cockney accent as strong as ever. Eryan fought back tears she thought would never fall again.

"What do want me to say?" she asked, a mixture of feelings swimming in her stomach. Anger, hate, disgust, love, happiness, relief, they all crashed together in a haunting song inside her body.

"'Ello would be nice," said Scabior lowering his wand a little.

"Hello? Hello! Is that all!? After what you've been doing, you expect me just to say hello!?" shouted Eryan, striding over towards him and whacking him across the head.

"Ow, alrigh' I get the message, your still as violent as ever I see," he replied, rubbing the spot Eryan had hit him. Rage built inside her, this man, the man who she sat with in classes, did homework with, practised spells with, got in trouble with and played Quidditch with was a snatcher. Seven years of school life where they would run around in the corridors pulling pranks on people felt like a dream. It didn't seem real anymore now that she saw him with this job.

"How could you Scabior?" she whispered, plopping down onto the sand listening to the waves as they rolled in.

"For freedom, for the money, so they wouldn' blast me to kingdom come," said Scabior placing his wand back inside his coat.

"I never thought things would be this changed," she said, thinking back to when they in their first Quidditch tournament. They were both chasers on the opposing teams, he a Slytherin and she a Gryffindor. The odd best friends who were in rivalling houses but remaining close despite it all.

"We were young then, naïve to the true cruelty of the world," he said, sitting down beside her. Scabior still jutted out his jaw in the cocky way she remembered; whenever someone called him out on something he'd get that same look.

"You going to call your snatcher mates then?" asked Eryan, watching approaching storm clouds roll in.

"We're more like a team than mates, can' say I really like any of 'em," answered Scabior still not looking her in the eye.

"And I suppose having a half breed former best friend is better?"

"I never saw you as a half breed, you were just… you."

"Well, in your employer's eyes I have tainted blood, not fit for the brand new world the Dark Lord has envisioned."

Eryan was a half woodland elf, the kind muggles thought elves should really look like. Those elves hailed from Scandinavian countries, very rare anywhere else and tended to stay from wizarding affairs keeping to their own tribes. They were smaller than wizards and muggles, maybe only reaching a little beyond five foot. They bore no characteristic resembles to house-elves, coming from an entirely different branch of the magical tree. Elves of that tree lived very long lives, aging slower than any magical creature, there are rumours some elves are over three thousand years old. Nothing has ever been proven though. When they first met on the train to Hogwarts, some boys were trying to make fun of Eryan's slightly pointed eyes. They got the message to stay away when she broke one of their noses. Scabior had been there just in time to see her little fist connect with the towering boys nose.

"Wow, tha' was great," said Scabior, the elven year old struck by the pure nerve of the small girl. She sniffed at him before returning to her fallen book. Nobody else sat down in her carriage probably put off up her strange blue eyes and sharp features. She looked more adult than any of them, her eyes far too wide for her small face. Scabior didn't care, she seemed alright even with her cold manner.

"You mind if I sit 'ere, its just the rest are packed," he said, before he could answer, he plopped himself down on the seat and grinned at her. His hair stuck out in awkward clumps, a bit of red glistening in the light.

"I'm Scabior, wha's your name?" he asked, still smiling strangely at the girl.

"Eryan Michaels," she answered bluntly not taking her eyes off the book. They sat in silence for another five minutes before the compartment door opened again. The boy who had teased her earlier was standing there with an older boy probably his older brother.

"There she is," he sniffled holding his bleeding nose. Eryan gazed up from her book for a moment, raised an eyebrow before going back to it. The older came in, Scabior jumped in front of him frowning up. The boy was a good three feet taller than him, however, Scabior stood his ground.

"Wha' cho gonna do? Hurt a lil girl who was tryin to defend herself against tha' tosser," snapped Scabior trying to level up to the older boy.

"She hurt my little brother, the freak, you think I'll let that slide," snarled the older boy. Scabior jutted his jaw.

"Well, you are a Hufflepuff," he said as if it were obvious. The older boy growled grabbing a ball of boy's clothes, lifting him off the ground.

"How do you think it would look if I screamed," said Eryan putting down her book raising an eyebrow at the students.

"Why would it matter?" asked the Hufflepuff.

"Because three compartments down, the prefects are there and I don't think they'd look kindly on you beating up first years."

For a moment the boy thought, before he growled again and dumped Scabior on the floor. They left without another word, apart from the older boys brother whining. Eryan helped Scabior up brushing off some fluff from his robes.

"Thank you," she said, for the first time since he met her, Eryan smiled at him. They sat down talking a little about Hogwarts and when the trolley came round, Eryan brought them quite a few sweets since Scabior didn't have money.

"You know wha'" said Scabior, biting into a pumpkin pastry. Eryan delicately nibbled on a chocolate frog before answering him.

"What?"

"No matter wha' house we're sorted in, I reckon we should stay friends," he said, holding out a hand to her. Eryan smiled taking his hand and shaking it.

"No matter what."

Soon they were being escorted over the great lake and then they all stood in line waiting to be sorted. Eryan ended up in Gryffindor while Scabior went to Slytherin. The next day when classes started, they sat together like it wasn't an issue ignoring everyone whispers and worked together on spells. Now here they sat seventeen years later staring at an oncoming storm threatening to shower them. Both caught on opposing sides once gain but this time it wasn't just a friendly game of Quidditch. This was life or death. Her loyal to the Order and him trying to save his skin anyway possibly. Everything has changed for the worst.

"Come on, there's a nearby cave we can sit in till the storms passed," said Eryan, getting off the sand and walking towards the rocky cliff face. Scabior gazed at the dark cloud, sighed and followed suit.


	2. Conversations

Conversations

_I realised that misspelled Quidditch, I am silly. Here's the next chapter with it spelt right. Enjoy._

The rain pounded outside as if it were attacking the ground. The sea crashed and roared daring anyone to near it while the wind howled. Inside a small cave sat a snatcher and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, former best friends. Their hair was plastered to faces being caught in the storm as it just started. Eryan had used Incendio, making a small fire to keep them warm as they waited it out. Moving in a storm like this would be foolish even with magic. Eryan shivered through her damp clothes trying not to make her teeth chatter to loudly. Scabior stood in the front of the cave his back to her. He watched the storm outside not wanting to face the one that could happen in this cave. However, the Eryan was obliviously cold after putting up charms outside the cave, remaining longer in the storm than he.

Scabior signed moving over towards her, stripping for his own coat placing on her shoulders. Eryan flinched at his touch. It upset him a little but he could understand why she did it.

"You still smell of strawberries," he commented sitting down beside her. Eryan frowned glaring over at him.

"You're still a pervert," she answered back.

"It's called charm luv,"

"I'm pretty sure sniffing a girl is a creepy thing,"

"Women luv it,"

"If you're a dog maybe,"

Scabior gave a small smile, gazing at the caves cranky face. They were avoiding all the questions they wanted to ask. Both feared what the answers would be, since they hadn't spoken since Scabior went to Azkaban. He seemed more detached now, not as warm and friendly as she remembered him. Maybe that's what Azkaban done to him or being a snatcher, having to catch loved ones and sent them off to their deaths. Eryan could always see the cruelty in him, growing up in a rough area with parents that didn't love him. He fought for everything the moment he could walk and that's what bred the darkness in him that Eryan tried to make go away.

Hanging out with a bad crowd met she could never truly destroy the hurt and anger within him. She tried though and he did. Guess it won out in the end.

"Why did you never visit me?" he asked, daring to ask a small thing first. Eryan turned her face, pulling the coat closer around her body. The stale smell of tobacco, woods and dirt filled her nostrils.

"I had become an Auror, on my first day I heard you'd been arrested for cursing a muggle. I wanted to see you so badly but what would have that looked like? The Minstery's brightest new recruit visiting a convict," she explained "you hadn't talked to me in a year, going around with those cronies of yours doing merlin's know what, I didn't know what to do so I just stayed away."

The pair once more remained silent towards each other listening to the storm and fire crackle.

"Scabior I know it's a shit excuse but I really was clueless on what to do," said Eryan, turning to look at him for the first time. The darkness in him had grown so much like a shadow trying to overrun his body. Eryan had been in Azkaban once before only for training before Scabior got himself thrown in there. She never wanted to go in it ever again. Five years must've driven him to the edge.

"When they offered me the snatcher job, I thought abou' all the thin's that had been done to me, my parent's abuse, the bullin', the bad crowd and then Azkaban. I jus' wanted pay back," he said, "an' I know tha's also I shit excuse."

"Yeah, seems we're both full of shit."

After a few moments without saying a word, Scabior leaned forward opening the coat, shifting through his inside pocket. He pulled it out a battered photo and handed over to Eryan. She gingerly took it gazing at the black and white figures within.

It was the picture of aftermath of their first Quidditch match in second year. Both mud splattered and bleeding a little. They were in the centre, Scabior holding her up a little as a bludger had broken her ankle. Gryffindor had won but Scabior was cheeky enough to get into the shot. She smiled all the same, accepting her friends crazy little moments. They did look young and innocent, not quite grown into themselves. Scabior had just started growing his hair out, the lines of hardship not yet on his face and his fashion sense not so bad. She still resembled something of an eye-eye with big wide eyes, her hair shoulder length at this point.

"You kept this?" she said, handing it back to him. Scabior gazed down at the photo smiling.

"Yeah, only' thin' they would let me 'ave in Azkaban. Gave me 'ope tha' you migh' visit one day or jus' 'ave happy memory to hold onto. One they couldn' take," he said, putting the photo into his trouser pocket. When they got together in the past, both would talk themselves hoarse, telling all the little tales of their adventures. Now, they struggled to make a conversation or even look each other in the eye.

"We're meant to be enemies you know," she said, brushing away a lose strand of hair.

"I know. Everythin' we've been through did together. I can' see you in tha' way. Not you. Never can you be my enemy," he said.

"What about all those people you coldly threw at the Death Eaters?" she demanded to know. Now it was picking up, to get to the heart of the reasoning.

"They weren' my enemies either, jus' a source of quick cash. Give into those dark feelin's Azkaban gave me, the torture I suffered I wanted others to feel it to," he said.

"And why did you curse that muggle that got you put away in the first place?"

"I was hammered, I was so drunk I though' he was jus' another wizard, only when I was I arrested did I realise the dire mistake I'd made,"

"Dire mistake? You were thrown into Azkaban for a seven year sentence!" yelled Eryan.

"An' wha' abou' you? Bein' the Minstery's lil pet, not once visitin' me, pretendin' I was nothin'" he yelled right back.

Fire spluttered for a few moments making them stop shouting and watch. The fire hissed once but remained the same. Eryan turned away again not looking at him. Scabior growled in frustration returning to the front of the cave to once again look into the storm.

"I 'ave done so many thin's Eryan. I buried 'em inside me, becomin' an uncarin' bastard cos I though' I didn' even 'ave you anymore. I 'ave done so many thin's tha' you would hate me for," he confessed.

"So, what will you do after the storm lets up?" asked Eryan.

"I don't know. Go back. Can' exactly stop doin' this. I'm too far in now to go back," he said, thinking about a girl he snatched for the Malfoy's. He remembered her screams bouncing off the walls as she was tortured. Bellatrix Lestrange's mad cackling echoing through. Bellatrix torturing her for being a muggle-born seemed like a pretty shitty excuse now. He remembered being in one of the drawing rooms with the rest of the gang, remembering that he didn't care. All he wanted was the reward for capturing her. With Eryan present a small worm of guilt wriggled in his stomach.

"You could come with me?" she offered, it sounded silly even in her head.

"Sounds fun, you migh' as well come wit' me. Your Order lot would sooner throw me back in a prison than listen to wha' you 'ave to say".

Eryan rolled her eyes remembering how Scabior would do that. Think of the world's worst scenario and to slither out of it before it came to pass. He tried to save his own skin a lot of the time, letting Eryan take the brunt of most things. Mainly with all the girls he broke the heart of. She ended having to deal with them, telling them that he was a lone wolf and he wasn't good for a relationship. Then she got tired of it in fourth year, told them he used them to get in their knickers and if they hadn't folded like a wet flannel they wouldn't be crying to her about it. Then things got awkward and they left yelling some sort of profanity at her. Oh, the joys of being the best friend of a womanizer.

Then fourth happened, suddenly Eryan shot up (Ok, hit the five foot three area), developed breasts and all the boys were following her around like lost sheep. Scabior used like singing a muggle nursery rhyme about some incompetent shepherdess losing all her sheep. What was it? Little Bo Meep? Or Creep? Oh, it was stupid anyway, Scabior would practically skip behind singing it verse after verse until she got annoyed and attacked him with a book. The he'd run from giggling knowing she'd forgive him as all the other boys were scared to go near her with Scabior around. They would argue trivial things that didn't really matter. Scabior would comment on her lack of emotional tact likening it that of a troll. She'd call him an unwashed, rocker wannabe that smelt like a troll. They would then laugh, go to lessons and continue breaking the hearts of the school population.

"Honestly, come back inside, you look a pirate watching the storm dressed like that," she said. Scabior raised an eyebrow and then swaggered over to the fire.

"I'd make a good pira'e," he said, dumping himself beside her.

"You'd have to be Captain then, you could never follow orders,"

He snorted, giving her a mock salute then dipping his head in an attempt at a polite manner.

"At least I don't look lik' I've been dragged through a hedge backwards," said Scabior.

"At least I didn't fall into someone's washing line,"

"I thought I looked nice,"

"Sure, if you auditioning for the circus."

They chuckled lightly as thunder clapped overhead vibrating through the cave. Flashes of lightening danced outside connecting violently with the sea.

"I missed this. Talking to you. Everyone in the Ministery is so stuck up, can hardly get a joke out of them," said Eryan.

"Well, tha's me, your comedienne, ready for a laugh," he said almost bitterly. Eryan looked at him, the red streak in his hair shining brightly in the firelight. She took his hand, the first time she'd done in five years. It felt a lot rougher than it did, plus it was a lot dirtier. The stag ring shone, reminding Eryan of the times it used to imprint Scabior when he came back from home. His Dad always did have a violent temper.

"It must have been horrible, being there all that time with those foul creatures," she said, moving in closer. Eryan knew the things Scabior must have done. Torturing muggle-borns, handing them over to death, making them scream for mercy. She wanted to scream at him, hit him, curse him and demand he never do it again. Yet she hated herself more than him. Eryan was meant to bring back the enemy not welcome them with open arms.

"It felt lik' I was bein' made undone. Tha' they were takin' thin's from me and puttin' 'em back wrong," he said, squeezing her hand a little.

Eryan leaned against his shoulder like they did when sneaking outside the castle to watch the stars. Being half elfish made the outside pull at her, which led to Eryan's high marks in care of magical creatures. Elves were quite like centaurs, reading things in the stars and seeing signs from the planets. Eryan used to do it all the time on her own but Scabior started joining her asking what the stars were telling her. Apparently half the things she said were too confusing or just gibberish. Still, each time they went, he'd always ask.

"I don't want the storm to end," she said, eyes drooping a little.

"Why's tha' then?"

"Because then it starts all over again and you become the enemy. I just want my friend back," she mumbled, head drooping. Soon a light snore came from her. Scabior shifted her so she leaned fully on his side. The rain continued beating outside but the thunder and lightning ceased. Tomorrow it would probably stopped, making everything start up again.

"I 'ope it don' stop to," he said, kissing the top of her head before sleeping too.


	3. The Passing Storm

The Passing Storm

Eryan woke up to the sound of light snoring, nestled into Scabior's chest. She listened to his heartbeat for a few moments. She enjoyed the movement of him breathing in and out. It felt so natural lying there with him like they were just friends camping out. The storm had passed, only the light sound of waves splashing forward. Seagulls screeched outside drawing anything they could to their attention. It's a shame something so idyllic could be spoilt by the prospect of what now has to happen. For them to once again go their separate ways, probably never to cross paths.

Scabior shifted and grunted slowly opening his eyes to the misty morning light. Lying against a cave wall can do havoc on one's back. Even sleeping in the woods felt better than this. Unless Greyback slept next to him, that wolf guy snored like a giant. Eryan was delicate; she breathed lightly, sniffled occasionally and talked about a few things. One scratch of incoherent babble he managed to get from Eryan's sleep talk apart 'who set the griffin free? It's going to ruin the tea party' was 'don't leave again'. He was pretty sure she meant him. The first time round, they didn't really part on good terms. The most stupid argument as well where he refused to admit Eryan was right. That really did come back and bite him in the arse.

"You awake luv?" he asked, feeling her move about a little. Eryan lifted herself off Scabior's chest, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"You always manage to look pre'e in the mornin's," he said, stroking away a strand hair of hers.

"You always manage to creep me out," she said, stretching. Scabior could see she was thinner than she used to be. The innocence in her mismatched eyes had gone replaced by hard reality. Looking no older than nineteen didn't change the fact that the way she spoke or walked reflected that of an older person who'd seen too much.

Scabior got up, back clicking in awkward places, slightly regretting the way he chose to sleep. Eryan handed back his leather jacket and they headed outside onto the beach. Scatters of grey clouds drifted aim through the dim sky, broken apart by the storm.

"Suppose this is it then," she said, looking out to the grey waves wondering if any sea dwelling mermaids lived there. Anything to take her mind off leaving him once more.

"Yeah, sup'ose it is," he replied. They stared at each other for a few moments, Scabior with his jaw jutted out and Eryan with her arms crossed. Both equally stubborn in keeping their emotions to themselves.

"Ok, one of us has to leave before we grow old," said Eryan, glaring over at Scabior.

"Well, why don' you go first?"

"Why do I have to go first!?"

"I was bein' a gentleman,"

"You wouldn't know how to be a gentleman even if the idea of it danced in front of you naked!"

"You 'ave too much anger, tha's always bin your problem!"

They both huffed, Eryan kicking up some sand. Neither of them wanted to leave, to be thrown back into a war where they couldn't renew a friendship. It just seemed like life was playing a cruel trick on them.

"Scabior," said Eryan.

"Eryan," mimicked Scabior. Trying not to let his childish behaviour get on her nerves, Eryan thought of an idea that could work for them both.

"We could… you know… meet up here occasionally, here," said Eryan, wondering why her mouth wouldn't shut up. Scabior toyed with the grey scarf around his neck, not looking at Eryan.

"Wha' for?" asked Scabior.

"Dunno, to see each other. Talk. Not to be enemies,"

"It's a war Eryan, not a social gatherin'"

"I know. It's just… I've missed you and I don't want to let you go again."

Her emotions had improved over the past five years. Instead of shutting them down, Scabior could see Eryan was really trying. In Hogwarts he had a pretty hard time explaining tact to her and maybe being less brutally honest with people. Like the time Jodie Hunter asked Eryan if a dress she was wearing made her look big. Scabior then spent half the day explaining that people lie to not hurt others feelings after Eryan implied Jodie should not blame the dress for her weight.

"I've missed you to luv," he said, putting an arm around her, giving a small hug "crikey, I don' remember you bein' this small."

Eryan glared up at him and then punched him in the shoulder. Scabior gave a half smile dancing backwards. While Scabior stood about six foot one, Eryan had only managed to reach five foot four. Her mother's elfish tribe only stood five foot at the most. Throughout Hogwarts, Scabior teased her about the height issue until Eryan started hitting with books again.

"When do you wanna to meet next?" he asked. Eryan smiled, a little bit of hope flourishing in her stomach.

"How about next Tuesday?"

"Sure but wha' if I get into trouble or somethin' an' can' make it?"

Eryan bit her bottom lip thinking it over. She remembered a small trick a member of the order had taught her. Eryan pulled out her wand waving it the sand. The sand churned together, forming into two small glass balls. She gently picked them up and tossed one to Scabior who raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you givin' me a remembrall?" he asked, doubting his friend's sanity.

"Shut up doofus, it's not a remembrall. A friend from the Order taught it to me. You give one to someone who means a lot to you, so even if you're far away, you can communicate with them," she explained holding it up for him to see "if the mist inside turns gold it means it's safe to meet. If it turns black it means it's too dangerous."

Scabior smiled at the ball as it turned into a golden mist inside. He never liked to stroke Eryan's ego but this time she'd quite out done herself.

"Wha' would I do wit' out your smarts?" he said, putting the ball in his jacket pocket.

"Crash and burn," she answered. She quickly threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"Be safe," she whispered, before letting go and appariting away.

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Eryan stood outside the Tonks's house, swiftly greeted by Nymphadora Tonks herself. Since marrying Remus, Tonks surname did become Lupin, Eryan couldn't help still see her as just Tonks. They spend too much time together as Alastor Moody's protégé's, making fun of him and trying to clean things Tonks broke.

"What's my middle name?" demanded Tonks.

"Vulpeclua" answered Eryan "what's my mother's name?"

"Amaya,"

Lowering their wands they gave each other a quick hug. Eryan felt Tonks's growing bump on her side. She hoped that Lupin would come to his senses and come back to Tonks. The idiot didn't know a good thing even when it slapped him in the face.

"I thought you were dead," Tonks said, taking her hand. Her hair was a bright red today but kept dipping in shades.

"No, it was a close one though. Almost got caught by a snatcher, I dealt with him though" she said, trying to smile reassuringly.

"Where were you? I was worried," said Tonks, her red hair fading into brown.

"Oh, there was a really rough storm. I took shelter till it passed," she explained, obviously leaving out the reunion story. Tonks probably wouldn't react well to her talking with Scabior.

Tonks treated Eryan like a little sister, worrying and advising her on things. Even though Tonks looked older, Eryan was three years older than her. They didn't have much to do with one another during Hogwarts, being in different years and houses. It wasn't until Tonks took on Auror training did Eryan interact with her. Alastor really was mad when made both Tonks and Eryan his protégés. Eryan gifted in Elvin magic and Tonks with her Metamorphagic abilities. She was pretty sure Moody started drinking more out of his flask during their training. Tonks opened the front door, waving off the charm for Eryan to enter. Last time she tried to get in the house without a member of the Tonks family she was blow backwards into a chicken coop. It smelt horrible.

"Mum, Eryan's here" called Tonks. Andromeda stepped through the kitchen door smiling at Eryan. It unnerved people when they first saw Andromeda, out of her two sisters; she looked like Bellatrix the most. And that branch of the family had done too much damage.

"Hello dear, would you like some dinner, I'm making lasagne," said Andromeda, giving her a light hug.

"No thank you, I don't eat meat anyway. I was just wondering if you had any news from the Order," said Eryan, sitting down at the table. Mother and daughter looked at each other in a worried manner.

"Please tell me you've heard something," groaned Eryan, rubbing her forehead.

"Well, apart from the borough somewhere London, apparently some snatchers have been harassing muggles and muggle-borns, someone was meant to go there but their still trying track he-who-must-not-be-named," said Tonks.

Eryan nodded getting up from the table. Tonks stood up looking worried while Andromeda gently took her hand.

"I'll go sort it out. It's ok, I might have been followed, I don't want to risk. I just thought you might know something," said Eryan.

"It's a borough just outside Richmond, a wealthy Death Eater lives around there trying to catch all the muggle-borns," said Tonks.

"I'll just see if there is anyone at risk, get them out. Then I'll check some more Order friendly places, see you later," said Eryan before leaving the house to apparate. Andromeda smiled, the worry flickering in her eyes. She took her daughters hands squeezing them slightly.

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Scabior stalked through the woods where his gang of snatchers were last time. They probably wouldn't move on without him since he ran the show. Greyback would pace and down, growling about how wizards were troublesome, untrustworthy. The werewolf really was starting to test his nerves. Maybe place an itching curse on him or something, that could be funny especially with all the hair. Sadly, the other three men he travelled with were utter bone heads. He could hardly get a good conversation out of any of them. Scabior could hear the lads talking nearby; the sounds of clattering plates to, Rowley the unofficial cook must have prepared breakfast. Scabior trekked up the hill towards the camp, feeling annoyed about missing breakfast and having to go back to idiots. He stalked towards the campfire, glaring at Johnny, the fastest runner but the thickest out the lot of them.

"Wotcha all doin' 'ere, mudbloods and blood traitors aren' gonna fall into our laps," yelled Scabior, hitting one of his subordinates around the head.

"We were waiting for you, boss," said Cattlecrop, a man of thirty who still couldn't grow a decent beard but insisted on having one anyway.

"You shouldn' be waitin' for me, get your arses in gear you lazy fuckers," snapped Scabior "an' make me sum bacon."

"Someone's in a foul mood," chuckled Greyback, emerging out his tent "I take it your hunt for the cross breed didn't go well."

"No, the lil bitch got away," said Scabior, kicking himself for calling Eryan a bitch and trying not to point out that Greyback himself was consisted a cross breed by pure bloods.

"Wasn't she Mad Eye's own protégé? She would be a difficult one to get hold of," said Rowley, handing Scabior some bacon.

"She would have fetched a nice price, well done Scabior, you always did a have a way with the women," laughed Greyback, clapping him on the back, almost making him choke on his bacon.

"At least women find me good lookin' unlik' you, hairball," growled Scabior, viciously chewing on the bacon, grease slathering his mouth. Greyback roared stepping into Scabior's personal space.

"Wotcha you gonna do fuzz face, bitch slap me? Is it your time of the month again," taunted Scabior, Greyback roared grabbing Scabior by the lapels and pushing him onto the ground. The werewolf sat on top roaring his head off while Scabior just laughed.

"I will kill you!" yelled Greyback. Scabior kept laughing even when Greyback smacked him against the floor for emphasis. Yeah, Azkaban had left him a little unhinged, being threatened a PMSing werewolf really didn't scare him anymore.

"Will you let go of me now, we 'ave work to do," said Scabior. Greyback growled letting him go stalking off towards his tent.

"an' 'ave a breath mint nex' time you do that," Scabior called after him, giggling to himself. Greyback roared one last time before going into his tent and breaking something. Scabior wiped away blood trickling down his nose. Even though the conversation with Eryan had really got him thinking, Scabior couldn't just drop everything.

This thing he had… she couldn't just walk back into his life and make it go away. It had built itself inside him for the almost three decades, only going away when he meant her. Then Azkaban happened, grew again and she wasn't there to save him this time.

"We go soon, pack up, put your workin' face on and try not to do somethin' stupid," instructed Scabior, stalking over towards his own tent. Dumping himself onto the squeaking bed, he took out the glass ball from his jacket pocket. He smiled, staring at the golden mist within.


	4. Kicking Doors and Taking Names

Kicking Doors and Taking Names

"Why can't Death Eaters be in a sunny area by a pool or something?" Eryan grumbled to herself. It had taken her a day to work out which borough to got to but the reports flying out of this place made Eryan think this was her best bet. The borough she'd tracked all the disturbances to was a classic scummy area, filled with disgruntled wizard and muggles alike. Usually drunken muggles would be staggering around while the younger ones would harass some poor bystander. It was a place people tended to avoid unless they had a big urge to get beaten up or worse.

The whole place was an estate with large buildings reaching up towards the skies. Ugly for sure but Eryan couldn't help give muggles some credit. They really knew to how shove a lot of people in one small area. Eryan didn't like concrete places like this, the dull grey pavements stretching out before her and black tarmac absorbing any colour from the world. She couldn't hear the plants or animals, shut out by constant traffic. She wasn't really fond of London; the orange glow of lights blocked out most the stars. It always failed to impress her, woods were home. The rich smell of earth, the birds chirping and the light breeze carrying the scent of plants. Now even that had been taken from her. Eryan had dyed her pale blonde hair to a vibrant red, making sure her eye colour matched and put a fake scar on her cheek for good measure. Disguises were always fun to do.

The current climate of the borough was an eerie silence, few muggles walked outside and those who were remained deathly quiet. Something was defiantly wrong here. Eryan walked up the street; half the shops were closed with a load of leaflets stuck to the shutters. They flapped against the wind like birds trying to escape. Eryan smoothed one out reading its contents. It was missing poster of a young girl. Eryan checked another poster. It was another missing poster, this time a man. Eryan scanned the entire shutter. They were all missing posters. Death Eaters were here for sure. They weren't even trying to be subtle anymore, taking some poor muggle right off the street.

Eryan's ears started to tingle. It happened sometimes when magic is performed in the nearby area. Walking further up the road the tingle started getting worse until she found the cause. What appeared to be a disused gym on the outside to the muggle eye was in fact a library for wizard kind. To muggle all they would see were running machines and an 'opening soon' sign, wizards however could see the library sign. And right inside it was a snatcher trying to drag a screaming woman out.

Eryan sprinted forwards taking out her wand and kicking in the door. Everyone inside was already retreating away from the crying woman as if she had a disease.

"Oppugno," shouted Eryan, the nearest load of books flying at the snatcher hitting him the head about five times before he let the woman go. She crawled over towards Eryan holding what seemed like a broken arm. Eryan knelt beside her while the books continued to assault the snatcher.

"You have to get out here, find a safe place and stay there," she ordered, the witch nodded as Eryan helped her up. She nodded thanks before running out of the library.

"Expelliarmus," shouted the snatcher. Blinded by the books, he clipped Eryan on side making her drop the wand and smash the side of her head on a book stall. The stalls started falling out, scattering books like rain drops. The candles above lighting the library started going out one by one. Feeling dazed for a few moments she had enough time to dodge another attack. The other book lovers were quickly retreated outside away from the fight. She frantically looked around for her wand seeing it under a table. Blood trickled down from her forehead as the snatcher laughed throwing out another spell. Eryan dived behind a book stack beside the table waiting for the right moment to strike. The snatcher stopped about to cast a spell at the book stack she stood behind. Breathing raggedly, Eryan took a chance.

Eryan jumped up top of the table kicking the snatcher in the face. He stumbled backwards clutching his nose giving Eryan the opportunity to get her wand back. Diving back under the table, she grabbed her wand and aiming a jinx at the snatcher. He flew backwards, flying through the double doors. Eryan got up wiping the cut on her head and stormed outside glaring at the snatcher. A witch about to enter the library raised an eyebrow.

"Wouldn't pay his late fees," said Eryan, grabbing the snatcher by the shirt collar. The witch shrugged her shoulders before walking into the library.

"Right we're off to the nearest Order place for a little chat and a little torture. You have the right to remain unconscious," said Eryan, appariting away from the borough.

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This time, Eryan found most of the Weasley clan in a headquarter hideout. It was just outside of Kent, a small house with a burnt out shed. It took muggles maybe hour to get there from the nearest town. So if anyone was screaming there nobody would hear them. The Twins were trying to cheer Ginny up by playing jokes on some poor Order member by slipping their joke sweets in his tea or food. She didn't seem to find it funny, instead looking worriedly outside. Ever since Harry went on his mission, Ginny constantly worried about things. Eryan reassured her that Harry was fine as long as he stayed with Ron and Hermione. Ginny still remained in a worried state even with the thought Harry might be safe. The things happening at Hogwarts weren't improving her mood either, seeing the Death Eaters take over Hogwarts was a depressing thing to see.

Molly fussed over Eryan healing her cut right up before Kingsley took away the snatcher she had grabbed. Since Eryan's own Mother was off in some forest in Norway, Molly took it upon herself to treat her as an extra daughter. She knitted her a jumper each Christmas and made sure she was eating right. Eryan felt a little bad, Molly didn't need anyone else to worry about. Kingsley came in to say the snatcher was securely in the shed before going back to the Ministery. Eryan thought of Scabior, she should have captured him to when they found each other. Only her feelings for him stopped that. The glass ball instead her blazer jacket glowed bright gold.

"You shouldn't be getting into fights like this Eryan, you should always have backup. You were lucky there was only one of them," lectured Molly, cleaning dried blood off Eryan's forehead.

"What?" said Eryan, pulling herself back into the current situation. Molly put her hands on her hips.

"Sorry I was miles away. Loads of things on my mind," said Eryan, rubbing off the fake scar and putting her eyes back to normal.

"Well, as long as you don't daydream in the field," said Molly, cleaning up the blood covered rag. The twins had stopped trying to cheer Ginny up and came over to Eryan.

"I reckon Eryan's found someone Fred," said George, sitting beside her while Molly walked muttering something about being irresponsible.

"Why do you say that George?" asked Fred, sitting on her other side grinning cheekily. That reminded her of Scabior so much she almost blushed.

"She's got that forlorn look Ginny gets when Harry gets mentioned," said George.

"Oh, shut up you two," said Ginny, flouncing out of the room in a huff. The twins smiled at each other before turning back to Eryan.

"Should we be worried?"

"Is he a wizard?"

"Is he a Gryffindor?"

"Does he like apple pie?"

"Is he dangerous?"

"The dark and mysterious type?"

"Is he on our side?"

Eryan got up from the table frowning the two grinning loons. They acted like her unofficial big brothers sometimes. Even though she knew Fred has a small crush on her ever since he was in fourth year. She even treated him to a dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding.

"First off, it is none of your business if I was seeing anyone. Secondly stop jumping to conclusions and thirdly I'm too old for you," said Eryan.

"She's got all twitchy George," said Fred.

"And we're mature enough for you," said George.

"We run our business, very mature," finished Fred.

"It's a joke shop," stated Eryan.

"And?" they said in unison.

"You're right that is a growing sign of maturity," Eryan said, rolling her eyes and getting up from the table. She walked down the narrow halls of the house, going to the room she sometimes slept whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"Come on Eryan. You can trust us," said George. Eryan threw herself on the bed, burying her head in the pillow.

"No I can't. Go away the both of you," she said, voice muffled by the pillow. She could feel the bed dip as the twins sat down.

"There's no use lying to us," said Fred.

"We know a liar when we see one," said George.

Eryan looked up from the pillow glaring at them both.

"I'm not lying, I am withholding personal information," she snapped.

"Oh, so there is someone," they cried, leaning in closer to Eryan. She sighed, picking up the pillow and hugging it.

"So, who is he?" asked George, nudging her shoulder. Eryan remembered them asked Ginny all this once, now Eryan understood why she got annoyed at it. Still, they weren't as bad as Ron.

"I really can't say. Too many people… you wouldn't understand," she said.

"Try us," said the twins.

Eryan sighed leaning against the ugly pink pastel wall. The thought of what she'd done was starting to bother her. The twins weren't exactly blabber mouths but she worry they wouldn't take it well.

"He and I are just friends. Best friends to be exact. We went to Hogwarts together been friends since first year. Five years ago, he got himself arrested and sent to Azkaban. I cut off all contact after that, regretting very day of it. Recently we found each other again. But he's on the opposite side from us. I can't bring myself to hurt him again. I want to save him. I want to show him that he isn't a lost cause. That someone cares for him before it's too late" she explained, watching the twin's faces slide away from smiling to thoughtful.

The twins didn't speak for a few moments, only wagging their eyebrows at each other before saying anything.

"Do you think you can save him?" asked George. Eryan bit her bottom lip thinking of all her memories with Scabior. Moody would have a fit if he knew of her relationship with a snatcher; she was surprised she managed to keep it a secret when Scabior was in Azkaban. Moody probably wouldn't have trusted her at all if he knew who used to be her best friend. Still, he was gone now and she didn't have worry about him discovering it.

"I have to try," she said. The twins gave each other another look before patting Eryan on the back.

"It's up to you Eryan but when it comes down to it, it's you who has to choose," said Fred.

"Yeah, him or the Order," George completed before they left the room. Eryan fell onto the pillow, hugging it tight as she thought about the mistakes she had made in her life. This really blew the others out of the water. No one would ever talk to the enemy as a friend, if someone joined the Death Eaters, they were dead to people of the Order. Eryan just wanted her friend back but she could lose everything by doing so. She slowly fell asleep her dreams polluted by betrayals and heartache.

_Hi guys. Thank you for the kind reviews, I blush when I read them. I know sometimes there are errors in spelling and grammar. The spellchecker and I have an odd relationship where it tries to correct me and I ignore it most of the time as it is rubbish. I'm working on fixing that but it makes happy to know people read the story. Thanks. _


	5. Heart On Your Sleeve

Heart On Your Sleeve

Scabior panted holding his chest, slightly regretting that he smoked three cigarettes before the day had started. After five days of catching about six people, Tuesday finally happened. He'd been so nervous about meeting Eryan again he chain smoked before realising what he was doing. He even lightly washed his face in a nearby stream which now seemed redundant after all the running. Bloody truants were fast runners, Greyback still caught them speed being on his side. The older wizards on the run were so much easier to catch; they didn't have the springy legs as the younger runaways. It had been really strange when walking through the forest, Johnny and Greyback where carrying the two muggle-borns as Scabior kept his hands free in case he needed them.

They were walking when he caught a strange smell not right for the forest. A smell of vanilla, Scabior couldn't quite work it out wanting to press forward with it until Johnny dropped his muggle-born. They left the area with Scabior very confused. They carted two muggle-born students off to the Ministery before handing back to camp for dinner. Rowley promised he would make the best rabbit stew they'd ever have. Doubtful since he was only really good at making bacon. He insisted on making it, so Scabior was stuck chewing on what felt like boots.

"Never make rabbit stew again Rowley," growled Greyback, throwing his plate on the ground. Rowley sagged taking another small bite of his own stew.

"Makes a change from bacon though," said Johnny, happily shoving his food down. Despite his love for it, Scabior had grown weary of eating bacon too. The thought of that horrified him a little.

"Keep at it Rowley, you weren' really good wit' the bacon to star' wit'" said Scabior, placing his own plate on the floor. Rowley smiled a little as he cleaned up the campfire, acting as if he were a housewife and not a snatcher. Scabior got up and stretched out. He quickly gazed inside of his pocket seeing the ball still glow gold. He started walking off when Greyback caught him by the shoulder.

"Where are you going?" he asked, bits of rabbit stew sticking in his teeth. Scabior wrinkled his nose really wishing Greyback wouldn't invade his personal space. The two them always butted heads mainly because Greyback was pissed Scabior had been put in charge.

"Lik' I'm gonna fuckin' tell you, mongrel," snapped Scabior. Greyback growled pushing Scabior off his feet. Greyback pinned Scabior up against the nearest tree, winding him. Scabior quicklty took out his wand, jinxing Greyback backwards before he could do anything. The six foot eight inch werewolf tumbled on the ground like a ragdoll as Scabior slid down the tree. The werewolf's eyes glared but couldn't do anything, not move one muscle of his impressive bulk. Scabior pushed himself off the tree and straightened out his clothes. He swaggered over staring at the stunned werewolf. The rest of the camp had gone silent, watching. In a spike of rage, Scabior stamped on Greyback's chest breaking a few ribs.

"You thin' your hard, you fuckin' fur ball? Cross me again an' I'll rip your fuckin' fangs out," shouted Scabior. The other camper's stared at Scabior. They never interfered with his mood swings. One minute he'd be joking and smiling. The next, he would swear his head off and jinx someone. It was a legacy left by Azkaban, something in Scabior's mind had broken making him a little unpredictable. Scabior gave Greyback another good kick before turning to the rest of the camp.

"Let 'im 'eal himself if 'e wants to. But I'll 'ave anyone who tries to 'elp 'im. Do I make myself clear?" demanded Scabior. The campers all nodded staying far away from the werewolf. Scabior scowled at them all for emphasis, stalking off into the woods. The thing inside his head gave a small twinge and the starting tearing the walls inside his mind. Scabior clutched his head wishing it would stop, that it would leave him alone. The same thing happened to his father, that utter bastard… Scabior had hoped it wouldn't surface in him but it seems history is doomed to repeat itself. He sighed appariting to the beach.

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Eryan paced up and down the beach, worried eating away at her stomach. The ball colour was still gold but she couldn't help to worry all the same. After the whole thing with the snatcher in the library and the twins, Eryan started worrying more. She knew Scabior was a bad guy, she knew he tortured people and handed them over for death. The whole thing about saving him… could it be possible?

"'Ello darlin'," Scabior said, appearing behind her. Eryan smiled, relief fluttering around her body. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Being apart for five years was agonising, five days felt just as long. Scabior hugged her back making the sure thing in his head stayed dormant. Eryan could feel him shaking a little.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, detaching herself from him. Scabior stared into her oddly matched eyes. He didn't want to comment how beautiful she looked today, even with mud streaked in her hair and blood on her cheek. He didn't even feel like it and anyway, Eryan would call him a pervert again.

"Nah, it's fine," he replied, smiling weakly and scooping some pebbles off the sand, skipping the across the flat ocean. Eryan wasn't convinced.

"Scabior, we might have been apart for five years but I still know what you're like when you're upset," said Eryan, joining him in skipping pebbles. Scabior didn't say anything for a while, remaining stony faced as they skipped the pebbles.

"I felt like him today," Scabior finally said. Eryan stopped mid swing to look at him. Scabior stood there looking at the last pebble in his hand like it was the most fascinating thing.

"You felt like who?" asked Eryan.

"My Dad," said Scabior, letting the pebble tumble from his hand and land on the sand. They stood silent, the wind tussling their hair. Eryan placed a hand on his shoulder. The source of all Scabior's darkness had started with that man. Before third year had started, Eryan thought to travel to London to see Scabior and go to Diagon Alley together for their school supplies. That year, Eryan learnt about the cruelness of Kairon Scabior. She always thought it odd that Scabior never went home for any holiday not did he talk about his family. Eryan liked to things to herself but Scabior always remained deathly quiet when family was mentioned. She only knew that Scabior's mother had died when he was four. Apparently she was a very beautiful woman who had a kind soul. Eryan followed the address Scabior had given her into a rough looking council estate.

She climbed the squashed staircase, plugging her nose against the foul smell of rubbish and urine. Gazing at the scrap of paper, Eryan found the flat Scabior lived. It was the third row up so it wasn't too high; it faced the parking lot where muggles kept their funny little inventions of cars. Eryan knocked on the door, hearing swearing and crashing behind it. The door opened enough for Eryan to see one of Scabior's grey eyes.

"Eryan?" he said sounding a little perplexed.

"It's the twenty-fifth of August we said to meet up today and go get our school supplies," said Eryan, noticing that Scabior kept glancing backwards in a nervous way. She could hear shuffling and more swearing.

"Look, Eryan, you 'ave go, it ain't safe at the moment. I'll meet you tomorrow," he said, trying to close the door on her. Eryan placed her hand on the flaking red door, stopping him from opening it.

"What's wrong?" she asked, then she saw the shining black bruise on his left eye "how did you get that?" Scabior bit his bottom lip, eyes flickering back into the flat.

"Please, leave. 'E'll 'urt you if 'e see's you," said Scabior.

"Who will?"

"Laertes Scabior, get your fuckin' arse back in 'ere," yelled a voice, then heavy footsteps staggered towards the door. Scabior shook his head in a panicked way as he was thrown backwards down the hallway.

Eryan crinkled her nose, the stairway had smelt bad but this guy really took that a step further. Eryan knew she was looking at Scabior's father. He stood a foot and half over Eryan, long hair hanging in greasy clumps with a one red streak through his brown hair. The same as Scabior's only the man's rested on the left side rather than right with Scabior. The man had a long nose that appeared to have been broken once and never fixed. He had dark brown eyes instead of Scabior's grey ones. They shared the same mouth and cheekbones. He squinted at Eryan for a few moments swaying on the spot before letting out a gruff laugh.

"You're tha' lil 'alf-breed tha' my boy like's so much," he said, breathe making Eryan gag with disgust. His breathe smelt of fire-whiskey and week old meat.

"Wha' is it? Emily? Emma? Eryan? Yeah, Eryan Michaels. Your old man arrested me a few times but he's dead now ain't 'e? Died last year when a former follower of you-know-oo blasted him out the sky," blabbered Kairon. Eryan clenched her fist, knowing she couldn't jinx this man.

"Did 'e ever mention me? Worried tha' you were friends wit' a convicts son?" he asked, laughing as if they were all having one big joke.

"Dad please," said Scabior trying to lead him away from Eryan. Kairon growled, shoving Scabior back onto the ground.

"I am talkin' to the young lady!" he shouted, giving Scabior a kick.

Eryan had enough; she pushed him away from Scabior with all her might. He stumbled backwards face turning into an angry mask. He lunged forward grabbing Eryan by the front of her shirt and lifting her off the ground.

"Young ladies should be polite, I'll teach you a few manners," snarled Kairon, raising his hand. Eryan screwed up her eyes waiting for the blow, only to hear the sound of a heavy thud. Kairon's hand slackened around her shirt and he fell to the ground. Scabior stood behind holding a bottle of fire-whiskey. He stood trembling over his father's unconscious body holding the bottle tightly. Eryan stepped over Kairon, gently taking the bottle and placing it back on the table nearby.

"Go get your things, you're staying with me and my grandmother until term starts again," said Eryan, Scabior looked at his father for a few moments before nodding and gathering up his things. They left for the Leaky Cauldron where Eryan was staying. Ethel Michaels didn't take well to her only granddaughter being friends with a Slytherin. However, Scabior managed to charm her over prompting her to invite him to stay with them on Christmas and even paid for half his books. Scabior had stated he wasn't a charity case but Ethel gave him a few scathing words about that thought. Scabior had always had problems with authority having only his Dad's influence to up to. Ethel managed to win his trust enough that he actually listened to her. After third year Scabior always was invited to Christmas at Mrs Michaels.

Kairon Scabior died in their sixth year of Hogwarts. Eryan offered to go with Scabior to the funeral as he had done when her father died. They stood at the side of the grave, watching the wizard talk conducting the ceremony on how great of a man Kairon had been. They held hands throughout the entire ceremony, Scabior looking at his feet for most of it. He didn't shred one tear, not even when he got the heirloom of the stag ring or the little money his father hadn't managed to gamble away. Not when they lowered the coffin into the ground. Not when all the mourners said sorry for his loss.

When the mounts of earth were layered over the grave, Scabior decided to react. Everyone had left except the both of them. Finally, Scabior spat on the grave and kicked at the ground, venting out all his fury. Eryan finally hugged him when he collapsed beside the grave breathing heavily and eyes starting to well up. She held him as he cried, not for the man who lay beneath them but how he finally escaped him. It would seem now that Scabior was getting a bitter reminder that Kairon was not truly gone.

"Hey," said Eryan, taking his face in her hands. Scabior didn't look at her. She went on her tiptoes kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"You are not him. He may have been your father but you are so much better than him. We inherit the good and the bad from parents. You just have to remember that your mother is in here too," she said, placing a hand over his heart. Lydia Fillip, a former Hufflepuff student. She had the kindest smile and the same grey eyes as her son. Could he really be anything like her?

"Wha's the bad thin's 'bout your parents?" he asked. Eryan snorted thinking about how far from perfect her family was.

"Well as you know, I got my bad temper from my Dad. My Mum ran off with another elf when I was eight to be a tribe in Norway. I'd hardly say they were the best roles models," she said, finally getting a smile out of Scabior. They walked along the beach holding hands, laughing about the good memories and messing about by poking each other. This place was a like a bubble. It was away from the war, a place they could pretend that nothing bad was happening and it was just them. They lay on the hill nearby watching the clouds float overhead telling each other what they saw.

"That one is kind of like a pixie wearing a hat," said Eryan, pointing at the cloud. Scabior looked up laughing lightly.

"Tha' one is a dragon eatin' a firework," said Scabior. Eryan laughed a little jingle of a thing. She checked her watch, sighing heavily.

"I better go. I have to check in with Kingsley," she said, getting up from the grass. Scabior nodded knowing he should be getting back too.

"Same time next week?" she asked, staring up at him. Scabior smiled, feeling the furious thing in him be docile and quiet.

"Wouln' miss for the world," he said. Eryan squeezed his hand one last time before leaving him. Scabior signed watching the sun setting. He had only just realised that over the past seventeen years, he was utterly in love with Eryan.

_Hello my fine readers, hoped you enjoyed that little slice and we'll see how Scabior deals with his new feelings. _


	6. The Good, The Bad and The Downright Evil

The Good, The Bad and The Downright Evil

Was he really evil? Eryan kept thinking this over while she ate the egg sandwich Molly had prepared. The horror stories for what snatchers do… some just catch their targets and deliver them to the Ministery. While others… Eryan shook her head not wanting to think about it. A lot of snatchers were just in it for the money and others really were elitists. She wasn't entirely sure what Scabior was doing it for. That thought scared her the most. Like he said, for the money and payback. What classified as payback though? Carting innocent people off to Azkaban? The Ministery had been very harsh with his sentence, even if he wasn't her friend; Eryan thought seven years was too much for a drunken mistake.

She thought of her father, the eccentric Byron Michaels, who enjoyed reading muggle novelists and acting out plays. When he used to take her out on midnight walks, lift her up so she could get a little bit closer to the stars. She remembered the day her mother left. She remembered her father sitting in his study, staring at Amaya's photo on the wall. The next the photo was gone and Byron acting like nothing was different. When she first brought Scabior round in the Easter holidays, Byron had watched the boy like a hawk. He'd encountered Scabior's father and didn't want his daughter hanging around the wrong sort. Now he was gone, never to see what sort of witch his daughter became.

"Are you alright dear?" asked Molly, noticing Eryan's half eaten sandwich. Eryan tried giving her most convincing smile, masking the worry that had been dogging her for two weeks.

"Yup, just thinking about where to go next," she said, getting up from the table. She grabbed her coat, heading outside with Molly following.

"You don't have to keep moving Eryan, you look exhausted," said Molly, patting her shoulder.

"I know but the war is raging on and I'm trying my best not fail," said Eryan. Molly gave her a quick hug, patting her back.

"We are lucky to have you on our side. You could never fail," said Molly, smiling at her. Eryan nodded, leaving Molly to worry once more.

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The first thing that happened when Eryan apparated was finding a muggle-born girl on the run. Well, more like the girl ploughed straight into her. Hard. Eryan took a moment to recover. The girl got to her feet looking around in a panicked state.

"Please stop, please don't hurt me," she pleaded. Eryan stood up taking leaves out of her hair.

"I won't hurt you, are you ok?" she asked, taking out her wand. The girl nodded, her curls bouncing.

"Snatchers are after me," she whispered. Eryan cast a protective spell to cover the both of them.

"What's your name?" asked Eryan in a low voice. The girl gulped looking around in a nervous state.

"Hayley Finch-Fletchley," she mumbled.

"Are you sister to that guy who got petrified?" asked Eryan, remembering the name from when Ron told her the story of the Chamber of Secrets.

"Cousin."

Eryan nodded thinking it odd the cousin would inherit the magic too. Usually, it's only siblings that happened to. And sometimes only one sibling got the magic.

"I'm Eryan by the way. I kind of work with the good guys," said Eryan. Hayley smiled weakly leaning against a tree and breathing heavily like she had been holding her breathe the entire time.

"Were the snatchers close when you last saw them?" she asked. Hayley nodded trying not to shake so much. The adrenaline had really coursed through her body.

"They saw me maybe about five minutes ago, I don't know if they caught up or anything," she said. Eryan patted the girls shoulder.

"You're safe with me now. Was there anyone else with you?" asked Eryan. Hayley shook her head. She couldn't have been older than fourteen, couldn't even use magic outside to protect herself.

"No, I left my Mum's maybe a week ago to protect her. I've been camping out in the woods but they found me," said Hayley, her blue eyes brimming with tears "I didn't even tell her I was going or that I loved her I just left." Eryan squeezed the girl's shoulder, half trying to comfort her and half trying to think of an easy way to get out.

"Well, hello there pretties," said a voice from behind them. Eryan could see a dirty man stand there holding up his wand out dispelling the protection bubble she put up. Before she could react, her wand was disarmed and they were surrounded.

"You gave us quite the run around," said the snatcher, stroking Hayley's face. The young girl trembled, shutting her eyes tightly. The snatcher turned to Eryan smiling. Eryan wrinkled her nose at his disgusting teeth.

"And who is your little friend? Does she have a name?" asked the snatcher. Eryan scanned the snatchers before answering. There were five of them. Two were in their mid-forties who appeared weaker than the others. Two easy targets.

"What's your name girl?" asked the snatcher, grabbing her by the throat. Eryan hated his cold, mucky fingers on her. Made her feel violated.

"Tina Loss," she choked out. The snatcher looked through the list. The other one let go of her throat.

"What's your status?"

"Pisces,"

The snatcher smiled then slapped her hard across the face. Eryan blinked dots appearing in front of her eyes. Her cheek burnt with hot pain.

"What's your status?" he growled.

"Half-breed," she said, answering honestly. No use covering that up. One look at her ears and they would know what she was.

"Oo, a half-breed, I wonder if Umbridge will pay double for those," cackled the man. Hayley struggled against her captors. She accidently trod on the man's foot making him swear and push her to the ground. Eryan spotted her wand just above Hayley's hand. The girl started shaking on the floor as the snatcher turned from Eryan to Hayley.

"You hurt of my men," he said, pointing his wand at the pleading girl.

"It was just an accident, please" said Hayley, bottom lip quivering. The snatcher gave another filthy smile.

"Well then, this was an accident to. Crucio!" he yelled, laughing as the young girl screamed on the ground.

"Beg me to stop little girl, beg me to stop hurting you" he laughed, the other snatchers started to do the same, egging him on. Hayley sobbed on the ground trying to form words through the pain.

"Stop it you bastard!" yelled Eryan, struggling against her captors arm lock.

The snatcher turned from Hayley back to Eryan who stood her ground staring him right in the eye.

"Do you want to take her place?" he asked, stroking the wand under Eryan's face. She smiled and then kicked upwards driving the snatcher holding into the tree behind. The other fell to the ground with a yelp holding his crotch. The other three went to yell out spells but Hayley kicked one in the shins, diverting attention away from Eryan who picked up her wand.

"Stupefy," she said, hitting one about to strike her. Hayley screamed as the one she kicked drove spiked knuckle dusters into the poor girl's ribs and then into her throat. Eryan sprinted forward, stunning and grabbing Hayley. Hayley fell to her knees clutching an already completely bloodied side and neck. Eryan picked her up while the snatchers tried recovering from the sudden attack. She half carried half dragged Hayley away, heading down into the steep hill. Blood dribbled down her coat as Hayley tried walking. They didn't get very far when Hayley's eyes started drooping.

Eryan dragged the injured girl over towards the nearest tree. She collapsed against it, holding Hayley's head in her lap. The girl gasped for air, dry, ragged breathes that scraped down her throat. Eryan lifted up the torn bit of shirt and tried not to throw up. The wound was horrific, flesh mangled and bones exposed. The snatcher had really hit the girl hard. The one on her throat was a graze but had still done a bit of damage. Eryan sat around helplessly trying to think of what to do. She had never dealt with wounds this bad.

"Is it bad?" panted Hayley, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the blood. Eryan gave a shaky smile.

"No, it's fine. I've seen a lot worse," she said, she really hadn't.

The blood from Hayley's chest wound oozed out as Eryan ripped off her scarf and placed pressure on it. She couldn't go anywhere; they were both trapped waiting for the snatchers to finally catch them.

"Eryan… it's getting really dark," said Hayley, eyes darting all over the place. Eryan looked up at the morning sky, the sun beating down on them.

"It's ok we'll be fine," Eryan said, looking behind the tree for any snatcher's. She could only hear their shouts. Hayley took her hand looking up at the half-elf trying her best to smile through the pain.

"Thank you… for trying," she gasped, weakly squeezing Eryan's hand. Eryan didn't know when the tears started rolling down her face but she could feel them. One by one falling, making her feel utterly helpless.

"Eryan, if you find my mother tell her…" the girl started to trail off, her hand slackening from Eryan's a little.

"No, Hayley, stay with me, tell your mother what? What do I have to tell her?" Eryan said, desperately trying to keep Hayley awake. There was so much blood; it had soaked through the scarf to Eryan's hand.

"Tell… her I'm sorry… and that… I lo…" Hayley trailed off, her hand going limp and eyes dimming.

A lump built in Eryan's throat that she couldn't swallow away. Salty tears rolled down in hot waves. Eryan let out an angry cry, punching the ground. Bending forward, she covered Hayley's limp form letting an out few anguished sobs. She held Hayley for a few moments before gently placing her on the ground. Eryan placed Hayley's hands on her chest and closed the girl's glassy, blue eyes. Eryan stood up wiping the snot and tears from her face. The snatchers were closing in on her. The rage built inside her. Taking out her wand she surprised them all by running full force at them. Everything seemed like a blur as completely gave into her emotions.

She threw out a few jinxes completely giving into all the hate and anger. One snatcher tried to grab her from behind but she kicked him in the jaw. She saw the one that had injured Hayley and uttered a spell she never thought she would.

"Crucio," she yelled, hitting him full in the chest. The man fell on the ground screaming, Eryan wanted him to hurt, wanted him to beg like they had made Hayley do.

"Crucio," she shouted again, watching the man writhe and scream on the ground. It was like a new person who was torturing the man. Eryan was just watching this person do all the work.

The other snatchers started getting up from Eryan's surprise attack. She wanted to continue hurting the man, make share the pain Hayley did and watch him die. She didn't have time for it though. If the other snatchers got her then it would be all over. No more fighting the good fight. Throwing out one last curse, Eryan ran as fast as she could through the forest. Thinking it safe to apparate, she landed on the beach. She stumbled up towards cave, falling onto the hard surface. Curling up in a ball, she cried until she fell asleep, hands stained with a dead girl's blood.

_Well, I made Eryan go a bit dark-side there. I was thinking about taking a step further with the killing curse but I think I better stay with Luke Skywalker dark-side rather than full on Darth Vader. Thanks for reading. _


	7. Lies We Tell Each Other

Lies We Tell Each Other

_Ok, quick description of Eryan for anyone who curious on what she fully looks like and a few facts throw in too. _

_Age: Twenty-seven but appears around nineteen due to her mother's elfish DNA meaning her aging process has been slowed._

_Blood status: Half-breed. Mother is a Scandinavian wood-elf who fell in love with Byron Michaels, a pureblood, when visiting the Ministery for better elf-wizard relations. _

_Patronus: Wolf_

_Skin colour: Pale and burns easily in sunlight._

_Hair: Long and white blonde, straight. Falls passed her shoulder blades ending mid-back. Used to have short hair until third year._

_Eyes/eyebrows: Has __Heterochromia, one eye is blue while the other is green. Due to elves always having blue eyes, Eryan received both parents eye colour. Rather large for her face. Fairly thin eyebrows with a small scar on the left one from owl that accidently clawed her in fourth year._

_Ears: Round apart from the pointed tips. _

_Height: Five foot four, considered tall by elves. _

_Body type: describes herself as a beanpole due to being just straight. _

_Face type: Quite sharp featured as many elves are. However she is considered too pretty for wizards and to ugly for elves. _

Scabior landed on the beach looking around for Eryan. The glass ball had gone a strange red colour that he couldn't understand. He'd noticed it when the ball stopped having the nice golden warmth and went cold. Checking it, he discovered a crimson red floating inside. Usually red meant danger as well but Scabior was hoping that everything would be alright. Hope seemed a little lost in the current climate. So many people had been lost or died. Using the excellent tracking skills he had, he found Eryan curled up in the cave. She was staring at a bit of the wall, dark circles under her eyes.

"Eryan?" said Scabior, wondering if it was an elf mediation thing. Then he saw the blood. It streaked through her hair in messy clumps. It trailed down her clothes with an extreme amount on her hands.

"Oh fuck," he said, running over and hoisted her up into a sitting position. Scabior checked her head for any injury and then her hands. The blood was all dried and gritty against her pale skins. Scabior wondered how long it had been there.

"It's not mine," she whispered, still staring at the empty space.

"'Oo's is it then?" he asked, stroking her face. She was in shock. He'd seen similar expressions on prisoners in Azkaban. The ones who just gave in and retreated into their own minds. Completely catatonic.

"Eryan, 'oo does it belong to?" repeated Scabior, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her; trying to snap her out of it before she went any further inwards.

"A girls… I couldn't save her… she died in my arms," she said, frowning as if the memory was trying to run from her. Tears welled up in her eyes but she kept staring at the wall. Scabior took out his wand, trying not to slap Eryan in response to bringing her back.

"Aguamenti," said Scabior, a clear jet of water sprouted from his wand. Scabior placed it over Eryan's hands and gently cleaned them. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and became cleaning a few small smudges of blood on her face.

"Eryan, this isn' your fault. You can' save everyone. Tha's jus' 'ow war is," he said. Eryan blinked, eyes darting over towards him as if seeing him there for the first time. Those mismatched eyes that always brimmed with confidence now stared on in horror. Eryan couldn't stand it anymore. It had been eating at her for two days, thinking over the moment she uttered those words. How could someone like herself do such a spell?

"I used an Unforgivable curse," she whispered. Scabior stopped cleaning her up for a moment. It was like the words weren't real, she couldn't have said them.

"You did wha'?" he asked, trying to process what she just said. Not Eryan, she couldn't use such a spell. She was one of the good guys, not like him… Eryan stood up ringing her hands and paced the area.

"They tortured her before they killed her. One hurt her quite badly, so… I just thought, fuck it, they hurt her without a conscious then I'll do the same," explained Eryan, new tears falling down her face.

Scabior went over to her, grabbing her by the forearms. Eryan wouldn't look at him staring at the ground.

"Bu' you're a good guy. You 'elp people," he said. Eryan shook her head furiously trying to get out of Scabior's grip. Her face was all screwed up as if attempting not to cry. It all gushed out anyway, a flood gate of incoherent babble.

"I couldn't stop and I wanted to hurt him and I just kept cursing him and it was like I wasn't there anymore and I couldn't stop," sobbed Eryan, collapsing on the ground with Scabior still holding her. She cried until she was gasping for air and stopped being massively hysterical.

"And now I'm all snotty," she said thickly. Scabior shifted through his pockets taking out a packet of battered tissues. He took a few out handing them over to Eryan.

"Seriously," she said, wiping away tears and blew her nose "slap me or something next time, snot and tears are not attractive."

"I dunno, they can be attractive,"

"To who exactly?"

"… ghouls?"

Eryan smiled, giggling a little. Scabior was happy to see her smile again. The whole inner turmoil thing seemed like it was hurting her.

"Tell me what happened luv," he said, taking her in his arms and laying her on his chest. So, Eryan recounted all the horrible details of the capture, the escape, the death and the torture. Scabior held her close listening to every word, trying not to think about all the times he had pinned down a muggle-born trying to escape. Eryan stated that she used the curse out of hatred and helplessness. Hatred for the snatchers for taking an innocent life and helplessness because she couldn't stop it from happening. He was happy to find out she didn't use it just because she could or for a laugh. Scabior knew a lot of people reacted differently using the torture curse.

Yaxley would relish using it; you could see the little glint in eyes that his dead pan face didn't show. The man really got off on using the torture curse. He would stand there watching them scream and cry on the floor. While Umbridge would giggle like it was one big joke. Scabior hated that woman, with her obsession with ugly shades of pink and using her own office as a little torture chamber. The cats really put him off too. It seemed a little surreal to have cute kittens mixed with torture. Then again Umbridge wasn't the sanest person. He knew other snatcher teams used them against muggle-borns but he forbid anyone on his to use it. They were only in for the money anyway. Apart from Greyback, he was in it for the biting.

"I feel really bad, now I'm just like one of them, those Death Eaters," she said, looking up at the cave rooftop. Scabior lightly played with strands of Eryan's hair, holding her close to him. The smell of dried blood and strawberries filled his nostrils.

"You're nothin' like 'em. You jus' 'ad enough, everyone has a moment like that. It's not like you killed 'im, you are still bet'er than them, sometimes even the good lose their way," he said. She took her eyes off the roof and looked at Scabior, biting her bottom lip.

"Do you think I'll find it again?" she asked. Scabior smiled down at her. Her big eyes glistened up at him, the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

"I fink you can do wha'ever you wan'" said Scabior, Eryan took his hand smiling weakly.

"Do you think… you could ever join my side?" she asked. Scabior sighed, trying his best not to say no. At the beach, he was just him and Eryan. There was no war, no one was being taken from their homes and people weren't being killed. Here they were happy and themselves. As soon as they left this place, the world started again and everything would be chaotically messy.

"I fink I could, one day bu' for now… I don' fink I'm quite ready yet," said Scabior. Not really the truth but not quite a lie. With Eryan involved, Scabior walked on a very thin lie. For one, he loved someone who was on the opposite and didn't even know his real feelings. All the while, he worked for the bad guys, taking innocent people and turning his back on them once he handed them over. They sat there for a few moments, staring at the cave ceiling.

"Say something," she said, annoyed by the silence. She'd been sitting in the cave for the past two days in a shocked state. Silence really wasn't what she wanted.

"Wha' do you want me to say?" asked Scabior, holding her close to him. Eryan settled into his chest feeling his warmth and heartbeat. Each breathe comforted her.

"Tell me lies," she whispered, closing her eyes. Scabior sighed stroking her hair.

"The world is a perfectly simple place. The good guys are really good. They never do anythin' to 'urt anyone. The bad guys are evil an' always lose. Everyone finds the person they are meant to love. Nobody dies a grisly death an' everyone is 'appy," explained Scabior.

Eryan smiled drifting off into a sleep she couldn't grasp for the past two days. The whole guilt thing had been eating away at her. Sleep kind of surrendered and retreated away from the guilt.

"Liar," she mumbled before falling asleep. Scabior held her close, once again regretting the way he was sitting. The back ache would be murderous in the morning.

_You kinda have to go morally grey with a character. I kind of like putting them through that because everyone is capable when pushed. I am really mean to Eryan. _


	8. Run, Rabbit, Run

Run, Rabbit, Run

Eryan woke up feeling refreshed and her shoulders a little lighter. The burden of the Unforgivable spell was now gone. Hayley was still imprinted in her mind but at least the nightmares were gone. Scabior woke up with a rock sticking in his back and feeling conflicted. He didn't really want to go back to the snatchers. However, he didn't have anywhere else to go if he did leave them. Even with Eryan sticking up for him, he'd probably still carted off into a prison somewhere by the Order. Optimism had never really been his strong suit.

They got up without saying a word to each other, just walking closely together back onto the beach. A sparrow flew towards them, landing just in front of Eryan and chirped a lot. Eryan smiled, bending down to it. She held out her hand, letting the sparrow jump on it.

"What news do have for me little one?" she asked, holding the sparrow to her ear. The sparrow chirped away remaining perfectly calm in her hand. Scabior sometimes forgot Eryan wasn't entirely human. It wasn't a bad thing; he just knew others saw it more than him.

The way Eryan used to stop out on Hogwarts grounds and lay on the field ear pressed onto the grass. When someone asked her what she was doing, she would just reply with 'listening'. She really excelled at Care For Magical Creatures and Herbology. The whole being half elf really gave her more of an edge over the rest of the class. But still, she left him in the dust academically. Apart from Ancient Ruins and Muggle Studies, she failed at them rather dramatically. Then again, so did he. The teacher took up the entire hour trying to explain to him the function of a remote control.

"Thank you friend," she said, finishing up with the sparrow, giving one last tweet before flying off.

"Anythin' interestin'?" he asked. Eryan shrugged, watching the little bird fly away.

"Not really, she just said something bad was to come and that maybe we should lay low," explained Eryan. Scabior raised an eyebrow.

"I fink your pullin' my leg on tha' one," he said. Eryan gave a small mischievous smile, not letting on whether or not she really had a chat with a bird.

"It's fine, you should have seen Moody when I pulled that one. Wizards can be such a closed minded bunch," said Eryan, dramatically sighing in a mocking away. Scabior pulled a face in with mock shock. He poked Eryan, receiving a quick one back until they were in an escalated flurry of poking.

Eryan grabbed Scabior's arm laughing, until they both lost balance and fell onto the sand. Scabior groaned at Eryan's elbow connected with stomach as she landed on top of him.

"Oh merlin, sorry," she said, staring down at a pained Scabior.

"It's fine, I can reclaim man poin's back la'er," he choked, staring up at her. The sun was directly positioned over her head, sunlight pouring over her entire body. It made her seem that little bit more unearthly. Eryan stared at Scabior for a few moments before gently brushing away a strand of loose hair from his face.

All was quiet like the sound from the world had gone. He'd changed so much since over the past five years. Then, he still looked like a young awkward man, now… something was different. Apart from the whole darkness living in him thing and him possibly being mentally unstable. It was like she noticing something she'd never seen before. Eryan and Scabior both leaned towards each other, lips slightly parted. They brushed lightly before Scabior jumped as if he'd been shocked. Eryan quickly fell out of the trance like state she'd been in while Scabior sighed.

Eryan hurriedly scrambled off of Scabior, brushing away sand. The taboo had been enacted meaning that Scabior received a nasty shock whenever he was too far away from the rest of the group.

"Well, I'd better go. You know got to do stuff and do Order things," she said, two pink spots appearing on her cheeks. Scabior went to grab her arm but she had already gone. Scabior fell back on the sand cursing little. That moment started looping around in his head until another shock happened prompting him to leave too.

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Eryan traced her fingers over her lips, thinking back to the moment on the beach. They tingled a little and her stomach became all fluttery when thinking back to it. It just felt so natural being with him and able to act like herself. The urge to kiss him grew in that one moment. She had no idea why she wanted to do it. Scabior was her best friend. Learning about emotions had been difficult over the past few years. Her father always commented on how she was a 'funny little thing' that sometimes became about confused emotions.

Attending Hogwarts loosened those constraints that her mother's people emplaced. Elves tended to be practical creatures that were honest and blunt. They rarely expressed anything, having masks of blankness. Eryan remembered visiting her mother once in Norway; the tribe treated her as an oddity and showed little of anything. They were like living dolls. When Eryan came back to England, she started acting like those Elves, thinking that was the way to behave. Byron let her continue not wanting to smother the elfish side in his daughter. In a way Byron almost made her like those doll like creatures that could not suffer an emotion.

Eryan found it difficult in first year where she was the only half breed and elf. She decided to learn about embracing sadness, guilt, happiness and love by watching the other students. Most of all, Scabior helped her each step of the way, guiding her where her father could not. Everything was different now. Scabior wasn't a lanky, spotty teenager anymore with really bad beard hair. He was more muscled, carried himself differently, could actually grow manly stubble and looked rather good with a bit of eye liner. Not many men could carry that look off.

Eryan blushed thinking about all this. The thing about meeting up with him was so that she could slowly bring Scabior to her side. So she wouldn't lose him again. Five years without him had been long enough. Maybe her love for him had gone beyond best friend love. That all this time together was just growing feelings for something more.

"Maybe I should tell him," whispered Eryan.

"Maybe you should tell who what?" asked Tonks, placing a cup of tea in front of Eryan. Eryan jumped blushing again. Tonks leaned in waggling her eyebrows.

"Have you found yourself a man?" Tonks said, winking at Eryan.

After the incident at the beach, Eryan thought it best to talk to the closest girlfriend she had. Maybe not talk about Scabior but have a general chat. Eryan found she was surprised by the sudden appearance of Remus. He swiftly left, deciding to read in the living room. Tonks had been in such a happier mood now that Remus was back. Eryan didn't know what had made him change his mind but he came back asking Tonks for her to forgive him. He still avoided Eryan, fearing what she would say or do to him. Luckily, Eryan was more into Tonks happiness rather than blasting Remus through a door.

"Oh nothing," Eryan said, quickly swallowing some tea. Tonks smiled all knowingly before drinking her own tea.

"Come on Eryan, give me some juicy news. I've stuck here with my feet up," said Tonks, pulling a bored face. True, she had been staying inside more with the growing bump which Eryan wondered if Tonks was having twins. It was odd to see Tonks sit still.

"Well, at least you don't break anything sitting down," replied Eryan, Tonks playfully hit her on the arm.

"Cheeky mare," she laughed.

Eryan smiled hoping Tonks would let it drop. The twins had already coaxed it out of her but they weren't the judge-mental types. Tonks on the other hand… she did have a werewolf for a husband. However, her mother's half of the family were psychos.

"Will you least tell me something about him?" asked Tonks, "I told you about Remus when that all started."

"Oh thanks, blackmail me," said Eryan. Apart from Molly, Tonks told Eryan about her feelings for Remus when they first started. Eryan shook her head.

"Fine, he has long hair, dresses like a circus performer, sometimes annoys me, has a devil may care attitude and wears eyeliner," said Eryan, the words coming out in a quick flurry. Tonks smiled, sipping her tea.

"So he's a bit of a bad boy then?" asked Tonks "never thought you would go for that type."

"So did I," mumbled Eryan, nervously biting a fingernail. There was a light knock on the dining room door. Remus popped his head around the corner sheepishly looking at both women.

"I just got a report of a disturbance at Roger Bones home, you know the Uncle of Amelia Bones, someone wondering if a member could go check," said Remus. Eryan smiled, playing nice with Remus. She had liked him a lot before getting with Tonks. They both on the same page with being half-breeds, being the outsiders from everyone else. Tonks might have forgiven him but Eryan needed a little more convincing.

"I'll go, he survived the first war, and hopefully he's alright now, "said Eryan "thanks for the tea and chat." Tonks smiled, taking Remus's hand and squeezing it as Eryan left.

"You worry about her too much," said Remus, kissing the top of Tonks's head.

"I know I do but I feel like the only family she has left," said Tonks.

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Eryan shivered in the winter air, blowing hot air onto her hands. She'd forgotten her gloves again. Roger Bones lived in a small cottage in a little village in Essex, a remote sea side town that only had one road and out. Always a confronting thought. Eryan trudged across the five inch shoe, feeling a little bit better for wearing her hiking boots. The bare tree's hung down in a depressing way, very few muggles walked through here. Only a few cottages stood on the lane. Daylight was beginning to fade away, the darkness seeping in.

Eryan slowly opened the gate, stepping onto the front garden. Little plastic gnomes stood outside with horrible fishing rods. She wondered why Roger would have such things; he knew what real gnomes looked like. Maybe he actually liked them. Eryan jiggled the door handle a little. Knocking on the door would be a stupid move, if someone other than Roger was in there she'd better take the burglar root to be on the safe side.

"Alohomora," whispered Eryan, the front door clicking open. She quietly entered hoping Roger was in, alive and wondered jinx her. Eryan flicked the lights but nothing happened.

"Lumos," she said quietly. The tip of her wand lit up, illuminating the area. The hallway seemed pretty normal. Photos were lined against the ugly wallpaper, showing a time line of the Bones family. A lot of them were dead.

The cottage seemed very cold. Eryan quietly stalked through the house, opening the first door. She back peddled seeing the living room in utter devastation. Spell marks were scorched into the walls, paintings were ripped, a bookcase had fallen down, sofa ripped to shreds, and lamps were smashed. There was one hell of a fight in this room. Eryan looked around, tripping over something.

She gasped, feeling her stomach churn. Roger Bones lay on the floor, eyes wide open and mouth slightly open. He must have only been a few hour's dead.

"Better go then," she said, "sorry." She closed Roger's eyes, standing up and started to leave the cottage.

"Look who we have here boys," said a voice, Eryan turned only to see a blue light head towards her. She was knocked backwards into the nearest wall. Before she could do anything, a boot connected with her face and she lost consciousness.

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Scabior chased after the muggle-born girl who desperately tried to escape him. She was small and could easily slip through the denser part of the woods. The others were chasing two other muggle-borns. They had been camping out in the woods, the girl giving them away by straying too far from the group. She had been cleaning herself in the river when Greyback had spotted her.

The girl tripped up overhead, trying to scramble upwards when Scabior grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her off the ground. He pressed the tip of his wand against her chin. He paused, noticing that she had the same mismatched eyes as Eryan. They weren't as bright but he couldn't help thinking about her at this moment. The others were on the other side of the woods chasing the other two. The girl struggled in his grip starting to cry and beg.

"Alrigh' calm down," he said, looking around the woods. The girl didn't calm herself instead kicking him in the shin.

Scabior still held on to her arm, feeling the pain shot up.

"Will you bloody calm down? I'm tryin' to 'elp you," he snapped, the girl looked up a little confused.

"Are you… are you a good guy?" she asked, looking around the area thinking this might be a trick.

"I'm tryin' to be," he answered, letting her go and picking up the nearest tree branch. He tossed it to the girl who caught it. She stared perplexed at him, the branch weighing heavy in her hands.

"'it me wit' it," he said, preparing to run into the branch. The girl frowned again utterly confused on what was happening. Scabior sighed.

"I can' go back empty 'anded, you gotta 'it me so it looks like you got away. Understand?" he said, the girl nodded still looking very terrified.

"Righ', I'm gonna run at you an' you're gonna hit me as hard as you can," he said, the girl nodded again. Scabior groaned thinking this was a bad idea but he didn't want to hand anymore people over to the Ministery. He backed off further into the forest so he could gain some memento.

"Aim for 'ere," he yelled, pointing at a spot on the left side of his jaw. The girl gave him a shaky thumbs up before grasping the branch again. Scabior quickly began running towards her again at full speed. When he reached her, the girl quickly swung the branch up and cracked it on the side of his face. He tumbled the ground, spots appearing in front of his eyes and a numb feeling on the side of his jaw. He could hear the girl drop the branch and quickly run off again. There was a pause before he heard a faint 'thank you' and light footsteps running off again. He lay there about half hour thinking about how much redemption actually hurts. Blood dribbled from a small cut just above his eye. The good guys really liked putting themselves through hell. He sighed, then groaned as he picked himself off the ground and headed back towards camp.

The others were joyfully gathered around the campsite, drinking fire whiskey and ignoring the two muggle-borns tied to a tree.

"Scabior lost a girl again," laughed Johnny, trying to stand up fell on the ground. Scabior glowered at him, making Johnny shrink away.

"What happened Scab's?" asked Rowley.

"Mudbloods are getting' to resourceful tha's wha' happened," growled Scabior, funnelling all the pain he head was experiencing into annoyance.

"The lil fucker 'it with a branch, by the time I came to she 'ad fucked off," finished Scabior, snatching a whiskey bottle and chugging it.

Johnny plonked himself down beside Scabior. He stared at the head snatcher before pointing an accusing finger at him.

"I think you've gone soft, that you let that girl go," said Johnny giggling to himself. Scabior wasted no time in punching Johnny around the face. The lank man fell onto the floor clutching his face. Scabior kicked him under the jaw; Johnny was sprawled out on the floor eyes rolling all over the place. Greyback could be heard gruffly laughing in the background. Scabior grabbed Johnny by the shirt pulling up by to his face.

"Don' you dare doubt me, you lil cunt. I've caugh' mudbloods than you've caugh' colds," snarled Scabior, pushing Johnny to the ground who lay there and groaned. Scabior got up from the ground, brushing off leaves and dirt. He gave Johnny an extra kick before stalking off towards his tent. He threw aside the flap and stood there a few moments, looking at the wanted posters laid out on his table. Anger grew in his whole body, hands shaking. He grabbed a big pile and started ripping them apart. They fell to the floor like little paper droplets, spreading across the entire tent. Scabior breathed heavily letting go of the papers. A cold spot formed on his leg. Scabior frowned, shifting through it to find the source. It was the glass ball. And the mist had turned completely black.

_Well, danger is a foot now. What are Eryan and Scabior going to do? Gonna have to wait and find out. Muhahaha. Yeah, I'd make a rubbish villain. _


	9. Living On The Edge

Living On The Edge

Eryan groaned her head banging in pain like someone was continually hitting her with a hammer. She could hear birds chirpy and the smell of earth filled her nostrils. Eryan opened her eyes or at least one of them, the other was coated in dry blood. It felt sticky and awkward to move. The eyelashes were being pulled funny, resulting in some more pain on the eye lid. Eryan stopped trying to open the eye, keeping it shut for now. Eryan looked down seeing her hands tied, the rope looping around the tree. She gave it a small tug. Nope, firmly secured to the tree.

"Look who is awake boys," said a snatcher appearing from around the other side. Eryan did her best to frown at the man.

"Eryan Michaels, half-breed and Auror. We have hit a little gold mine," he said, stroking under Eryan the chin. She didn't say anything just glaring at him. He was shorter than Scabior by about seven inches, a fat belly and a buzz cut. The scuzzy kind of snatcher, the ones who got off on chasing innocent people down.

"We'll taking to you Bellatrix Lestrange, you know for information and all. Find out what your little Order is up to," said the man, closing in on her face "I'm sure you'll have fun". He smiled revealing a disgusting set of teeth. Eryan smiled back then head butting him in the face. There was an unpleasant crunching sound and the way cried out in the pain.

"And I'm sure you'll fun with a broken nose," she said, smiling. The man let go of his nose, blood streaming down. He roared, filthy hands wrapping around her neck. He squeezed, choking Eryan. Her windpipe began to feel strained, the air struggling to come out or in. Eryan gagged feeling like her throat was about to explode. Everything started going dark as she became light headed.

"Let her go Morris," snapped a new voice, the hands around her neck torn away. She gasped breathing in a lung full of air.

"And we were becoming such good friends," choked Eryan. The other man slapped her while Morris walked off swearing.

"Where you're going, clever miss, you'll wish we had killed you," said the man. He stalked off, yelling at the other snatchers to ready for the journey ahead. Soon, Eryan was unbound from the tree and pushed in front her in front of the group. They talked about heading off to some place called Malfoy Manor. Great, the place which crawled with pureblood zealots. This would be fun.

Eryan was escorted roughly to the Malfoy Manor; the snatchers enjoyed pushing her onto the ground or into trees. They laughed and joked, giving her the occasional kick or slap. This really wasn't going to be any fun. Maybe if she hadn't been such a smart mouth, they wouldn't be doing this. Actually, they probably wouldn't be doing it as often if she hadn't back chattered. She blamed Scabior for explaining sarcasm to her in second year. They came to a dark Manor that seemed like the classic horror setting. The snatchers knocked the door waiting for the owners.

A butler came to the door and raised a thin eyebrow at the rowdy bunch. The man who had pushed Morris off of her stepped forward.

"I am here to see Madam Lestrange, we have a little gift for her," said the man, tugging Eryan into view. The butler nodded, closing the door and heading back into the manor. After a few moments an excited cackle could be heard from within the house. Clipped footsteps could be heard moving towards the front door. Eryan's heart beat fast, nerves on edge. The door flung open, Bellatrix Lestrange smiling madly out at them. She cackled again when her eyes rested on Eryan.

"Don't just stand there you idiots, bring her in," snapped the death eater, running a hand through Eryan's hair. The snatchers grabbed Eryan's upper arms, escorting her into a nearby dining room. All the Malfoy's gathered in the room, huddled in one corner, staring worriedly at Bellatrix who skipped into the centre of the room. She laughed, grabbing Eryan by the front of her shirt.

"Now, let me look at you," said Bellatrix. Eryan wrinkled her nose in disgust as Bellatrix first looked at eyes, then roughly grabbing her face and pulling aside hair revealing her pointed ears.

"We have the little half-breed elf. Alastor Moody's own protégé," laughed Bellatrix, pulling at Eryan's hair. It was annoying to have her hair pulled about. However, this really was only the beginning. Things were going to get a lot worse than hair-pulling.

"How does it feel to be on the losing side?" asked Bellatrix in a childish mocking voice. Eryan remained impassive, looking Bellatrix in the eye.  
"How does it feel to be the Dark Lords whore?" Eryan answered back. Like a snake striking, Bellatrix quickly slapped Eryan around the face. It was widely known Bellatrix held a more than Death Eater love for Voldemort. It seemed quite sad actually. The man only had enough room to love himself.

"Don't you dare speak his name half-breed," yelled Bellatrix, taking out her wand. Eryan raised her eyebrow a fraction smiling lightly.

"If I was going to say his name, I'd be calling him Tom, however, I don't think I'm on his friends list for that," replied Eryan, receiving a punch to the stomach. She doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach in pain. Bellatrix paced around the room in an agitated state, yelling at the snatchers to leave. She grabbed Eryan by the hair, bringing her hate filled face to the laughing woman's.

"What's so funny half-breed?" snarled Bellatrix, brushing her wand against Eryan's face.

"It's funny because you're going to lose," Eryan said. Bellatrix let go of Eryan's hair, pacing through the room. She spun on her heel pointing her wand over to Eryan.

"I think a bit of persuasion torture is in order to loosen your lips," said Bellatrix.

"What no dinner or a date first? That's a bit rude," said Eryan, earning another slap around her face. Both cheeks burnt with the angry imprints of hands.

"You're a filthy half-breed," said Bellatrix.

"And you're a raving psychopath," said Eryan, thinking might as well, in for a penny in for a pound. Bellatrix's lip curled unattractively towards her. Then she sent a spell Eryan's way. The spell hit her full on in the chest causing her to be lifted off her feet. She flew into the nearest table, rolling off it and back onto the ground. Eryan clutched her chest with bound hands, feeling completely winded.

"You know, I think I might like you as my new toy," said Bellatrix, walking up towards Eryan.

"That's a bit dirty, we've only just met," said Eryan, receiving another spell full on the body making her fly into a suit of armour. It landed on top of her when she connected to the floor. The energy within her started to wane. A hand grabbed her back the shirt scruff dragging her out from under the armour. Eryan couldn't focus, everything started to become very blurry.

"Now, now, don't start falling unconscious now, we've only just started," cackled Bellatrix, throwing Eryan into the centre of the room.

Eryan breathed heavily, pain shooting all up and down. Lucius stood by not looking at Eryan or his sister-in-law. Draco just sat there, a disturbed expression on his face. Bellatrix came over and kicked her in the ribs. Eryan gritted her teeth together, refusing to give in, to let them hear her scream. Bellatrix placed a foot on Eryan's back, pressing the heel into her spine. Eryan grunted in pain, pressing her lips firmly together. Bellatrix bent down, lips brushing against Eryan's ear.

"It's no fun if you don't scream," she whispered, licking her earlobe. Eryan choked with disgust feeling highly violated. Was it requirement for all Death Eaters to be slightly rapey?

"Now let's see if this loosens your lips," said Bellatrix "Crucio!" Eryan couldn't help but let an agonised scream escape her lips.

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Scabior trudged towards the Malfoy manor with the rest of his crew. It was the monthly report, hand over all the muggle-borns they've caught and see if there were any other orders to be had. Of course, nobody in the group liked these visits and were glad they only happened once a month. Bellatrix unnerved them all and the Malfoy's might as well be mantelpiece ornaments since they just sat and watched anyway. Scabior feared that if he turned up, Bellatrix would see right through him. That he'd been letting muggle-borns go. Saving them from the wrath of the Ministery, the Dementors and fellow snatchers. He had remained undetected so far but the others were stupid. Bellatrix was just crazy.

The group was led to the dining hall, usually they met in the west drawing room but apparently Bellatrix had a new torture victim. Poor bugger, probably be dead in a few days. Bellatrix never really went by halves. The butler stepped into the room, letting all the snatchers in.

"Madam, Scabior and the other snatchers," declared the butler before leaving. Apparently nobody wanted to be in the room with her longer than a few minutes. Bellatrix held up a hand for a few moments. She was bent over her victim, obscuring them from the snatchers eye line. The sound of a knife craving into flesh could be heard. Greyback growled in joy, sniffing the air for blood. Scabior ignored his churning stomach.

Bellatrix stood up, holding a bloody knife, smiling at them all in a weird pleasant manner. Scabior took out the capture forms for this month. Bellatrix walked over jerking them out his hands.

"Twelve mudbloods caugh', two half-bloods an'-" Scabior cut himself off seeing who was on the floor for the first time. Eryan laid there, eyes shut, flesh weeping with open wounds on her arms and spell scorch marks all over her clothes. Bellatrix looked up following Scabior's eye line to Eryan.

"What do you know her?" asked Bellatrix, suspicion painted over her face. Scabior tore his eyes away.

"Yeah, we wen' to 'ogwarts together, same year. Bit of a stuck up bitch," he said, Bellatrix cackled.

"Well she's been taken down a peg or two," cackled Bellatrix, driving her heel into Eryan's hand. Scabior tried not to flinch at the crunching sound. Eryan didn't move or make a sound, continuing to lie on the floor.

"'Ow long 'as she been 'ear?" he asked trying to sound as casual about as possible. Bellatrix shrugged looking over the snatchers list.

"About four days now, its no fun now she's lost consciousness," complained Bellatrix.

"Bet you 'ad fun though," joked Scabior, trying to cover his concern for Eryan. Bellatrix giggled psychotically as an answer. Blood seeped from Eryan's cuts onto the floor, making a sticky pool around her arms. Scabior could barely breathe at this point. Bellatrix placed the papers on a nearby table.

"This all seems in order. Before you go, Scabior, I give you the honour of putting our little guest in the dungeon, since you used to know her," instructed Bellatrix, sitting at the table.

"You don' wanna continue?" he asked.

"No, she's quite damaged now. That's no fun at all, I'll wait till she wakes up again and see if she can give me anything, if not, I'll kill,"

Scabior nodded, striding over towards Eryan. Her blonde hair was sprawled out on the dark flooring making it appear as if she was sleeping. Scabior grabbed her by the underarms and started to drag her away from the dining room. He tried ignoring the trail of blood that followed them.

Scabior dragged Eryan over towards the cellar, trying to make it look rough and be gentle at the same time. The guard at the front nodded at him, stepped aside and opened the door. Scabior took Eryan's limp form in a bridal style, carrying her down the stairs and held her close. The cellar was dark and damp, smelling of old socks. Somewhere a pipe was leaking as a dripping sound echoed through the cellar. The goblin and old wandmaker were in the corner seemingly sleeping. It might just be an act so someone like him wouldn't bother them. Or maybe just trying to grasp a few hopeful hours in blissful oblivion. Bellatrix had probably gotten bored of them by now. She sadly had a new toy.

Scabior gently lowered himself down trying not to jostle Eryan too much in fear of injuring her further. He held her, checking for any nasty serve external injuries. Bellatrix had only made shallow cuts across her skin. All the other damage was internally, it had taken its toll on Eryan. Everything about her was completely slack and very, very unconscious.

"Oh merlin," whispered Scabior, hugging Eryan tightly "I can' save you."

"Are you her friend?" asked a soft voice. Scabior looked up seeing an airy looking girl with pale blonde hair. She smiled lightly at them both as if they were at a party rather than on dark and smelly cellar.

"Somethin' like tha'," he said, not even bothering to cover up for himself. He looked down at Eryan, a helpless expression plastered all over his face.

"You should go, they might start getting suspicious," said the girl, crouching down beside them. Scabior didn't want to let Eryan go. She was vulnerable. She couldn't defend herself, not if she recovered from the injuries tomorrow, she would still be dragged off and it would start again. But he couldn't get help her if he was throw in here too. Scabior gently laid her on the floor, trying to make her comfortable as possible. Even if it was on cold, hard slabs. Scabior kissed her on the forehead and stood up.

"Look after 'er. I'll try… somethin'," he said, turning his back before he decided it was too late to leave.

"I'll try my best," the girl called after him. Scabior did his best sneer when coming up from the cellar. The guard smiled at him, lightly punching him on the shoulder. Scabior laughed to but as soon as he turned the corner, his face dropped. Walking between two sides was really starting to tax him. Now to come with a plan that didn't mean losing the only thing he truly loved.

_Well, that might not pan out to well. Thank you all for the lovely reviews and feedback, it makes me smile like a goon when I read it. _


	10. The Great Escape

The Great Escape

Eryan knew it was a dream. For one thing, both her father and grandmother were alive. Ethel passed not two years ago in her sleep while Eryan sat beside the bed watching. Ethel had reached the grand old age of a hundred and three before all the years caught up to her. Eryan remembered hearing her last breathe before slipping away. It seemed she was destined to watch people die. But here they both were having a picnic with her on the beach. Everything was perfect; high tide had come in so the water glistened in the sunlight like a sea of diamonds. The sand seemed to stay away from the trio, moving away as if not to spoil their moment. There were no gulls circling them for scraps of food. Everything seemed so vivid and real. Not like most dreams where you blurrily stagger through.

Byron sat on a deckchair reading out his favourite parts from the latest muggle novelist he liked. Eryan laughed while Ethel handed out sandwiches. It all so natural as if they had never died and Eryan never became an Auror. She often wondered what her life might have been like if Byron had not died so early. It seemed her brain was spewing out the ideals to her. That her family were together, happy, untainted by sadness. Something like this was just too good to be true. Byron checked his pocket watch and then stared up at Eryan.

"Haven't you got to go now?" he asked green eyes boring into her. Eryan frowned while Ethel took away her empty plate.

"Yes dear, he's waiting," said Ethel, smiling at her granddaughter. Eryan stood up as if she remembered something, a faint sense of knowing making her move away from the happy scene. The two relatives smiled at her as she walked away from the beach up towards the cave.

Eryan went through the mouth of the cave, only to end up in a cathedral rather than a cranky old hole smelling of seaweed. The pews were decorated with beautiful white roses, the wood so clean it shone gold. Light filtered in from the stain glass window, images of her past painted onto them. Standing up on the altar was Scabior. His hair had been combed back into a black ribbon, skin clear from any grim and he wore a beautiful black suit looking as if it had been cut from the night sky itself. Eryan looked down at her body.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," she said, her conscious mind kicking in a little. She was clad in a silver dress that pooled around her feet, silk sleeves brushing against her arms, the neckline plunging a little below her cleavage and wearing flat silver sandals. She looked to the left seeing a mirror there. Her hair was loose, in the traditional elfish style, a silver hairband decorated like vines and leaves sat upon her head.

"Ok brain, you did quite well with this," she mumbled to herself, looking back at the altar. Now all her friends and family sat in the pews watching her. Scabior smiled at her, holding out his hand.

"Come on luv," he said, Eryan nervously walked towards him, feeling all her dream buddies eyes on her. She took his hand, joining him on the altar. Scabior smiled again.

"Now tha' wasn' so bad was it," he said, stroking her cheek. Eryan smiled weakly staring up at him. His smile slipped away, his hands gripping hers tighter. Eryan started to struggle feeling her hands ache. She looked down seeing black veins spread all over Scabior's hands all over his face.

"Do you really fink you can save me?" Scabior said, his voice sounding hollow and empty, his blue eyes turning into black.

"You left me rottin' in Azkaban, 'ow can you save a man 'oo's been there?" demanded the thing wearing Scabior's face. The darkness pulsed under his skin; Eryan squirmed pleading with her friends to help her. But they all stood up and filed out of the church one by one. Dark Scabior licked her cheek.

"Now, we're gonna play a few games," it said. And Eryan screamed.

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Scabior waited outside in the woods near the loony editor of the Quibbler's house. He tipped them off about someone being in the house that the Ministery might want. He toyed with the pink scarf he found in some woods about two weeks ago. It had been tied to a tree. Maybe was some sort of signal for someone on the run. However, it smelt of the same perfume he smelt when carrying those muggle-borns through the woods. He figured the person who owned this would turn up sooner or later. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps and three people arguing. The snatchers were primed and ready, no use to trying to wriggle out of this one. He'd have to snatch this lot to make seem he hadn't lost his touch.

The arguing had stopped, the trio stalking off into the woods. A pretty girl walked into view, curly hair swept back over her shoulders. The same vanilla scent on the scarf drifted from the girl.

"'Ello beautiful," said Scabior before actually thinking. The girl turned around stunned a horrified expression on her face. The snatchers stood for a moment while the trio ran off. Scabior rolled his eyes.

"Well don' jus stand there, snatch 'em," barked Scabior, wondering if the snatchers had two brain cells to rub together. The snatchers quickly gave chase, Scabior almost taking the lead. That's why he'd been good at this job, excellent tracking skills, fast runner and a keen eye.

But now Eryan plagued his thoughts making him once again regret his life choices. The ginger one of the group had been caught first, dragged along by Johnny. The other two were being held by Greyback and Rowley. Scabior stalked down the small hill towards the two struggling teenagers. One appeared to have run into a tree multiple times by the way his face looked. Scabior looked at the girl who thrust her chin out at him trying to be brave; he toyed with a strand of her hair thinking about how Eryan's would be if it were this curly.

The ginger one struggled against Johnny's grip glaring hatefully at Scabior.

"Don't touch her!" shouted the boy, earning a kick from Johnny right into the stomach. He groaned still glaring at Scabior. He turned to the girl face inches away from hers. _Its all just a show_ thought Scabior, knowing the girl didn't know where his loyalties truly lay.

"I'd advice your boyfriend to calm down," he said, striding over towards the lumpy faced one of the group being held by Greyback.

"Wha' happened to you ugly?" asked Scabior. Both Greyback and the boy looked at him. Scabior shook his head trying not to laugh at Greyback thinking he was referring to him. Although he did call Greyback 'ugly' about twenty times a day.

"Wha's your name?" Scabior asked, scanning over the boys features. Something seemed familiar behind all the malformed flesh.

"Vernon Dudley," he answered, Scabior nodded at the other snatcher to check it before turning back to the girl.

He swooped in close staring at her terrified eyes. The act was really starting to get to him. Not only was the whole thing making him uncomfortable but he still kept going back to Eryan and how she stuck being tortured by Bellatrix. Scabior was utterly helpless without her.

"An' wha' 'bout you?" he asked the girl who averted her eyes.

"Penelope Clearwater, half-blood," she answered.

"Oi boss, says he ain't on here," said the snatcher checking the list. Scabior went up close to the boy checking everything about him before something caught his eye. He used the tip of his wand to move a few strands of the boy's hair seeing a misshapen mark. Could it be…?

An idea went off in Scabior's head.

"Change of plans lads, we ain't goin' to the Ministery," he said.

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Scabior held his chest where Bellatrix had hit him with a jinx. It ached, a slow painful throb that came from his ribs. Scabior ignored it, walking towards the basement where Eryan and the others were being kept. He could hear the muggle-born girl's screams echo through the house. It was a regrettable out come and it made Scabior's inside twist about. But it was the only plan he had. He told the other snatchers he was going for a slash and to meet him back at camp. Rowley joked that Scabior should steal something before leaving, the rest remained silent bitter about not being paid.

The manor housed many 'guests' the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. Luckily he was elsewhere doing business. Scabior felt the two wands he snatched poke him in the ribs. One belonged to the red head, Ron and other he recognised as Eryan's. Bellatrix always threw them on a table in the room, claiming them as prizes. When Bellatrix blasted him backwards, Scabior managed to grab them before anyone could notice. This slyness got him by in the world when everything else fell apart. The guard would be the main obstacle when trying to get into the basement. Scabior peered around the corner seeing a bulky man chewing on some sweets grabbing a fistful at a time. How the hell was he going to get rid of this guy?

Scabior watched the guard outside pop sweets into his mouth, sighing with boredom. Scabior felt a little spark animate, an idea swimming around. Shifting through his pockets, he found the Weasley products he had. The sweets that caused violent illnesses would do the trick. Scabior brought them to use on Greyback whenever he fancied a laugh. Now they were to help save Eryan. Scabior took out his wand placing the sweets on a nearby table.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered, watching the sweets float up in the air. Scabior carefully guided them over towards the sweet bowl, dropping them among the other colourful contents.

He waited as the guard took a few moments before picking up the sweet bowl and cramming more sweets into his massive mouth. In a matter of moments, the guard was covered in spots, had a bleeding nose, was shaking and vomiting all over the place. The guard stumbled away, weakly calling out for help. Scabior wasted no time, opening the door, he ran down the steps into the damp basement. Eryan lay on the floor with Ron's jumper under her head. She hadn't changed in the two days Scabior last saw her. Harry Potter glared over at him until Scabior pulled out the two wands and held them out to him. Harry hesitated not trusted this oddity.

"One of 'em belongs to 'er. Make sure she gets it when she wakes," he said, then threw the other to the confused red head "the guard is gone bu' I don' know how long for." Scabior bent down and checked Eryan's pulse. It was very faint. It took a moment for Scabior to realise that the other three prisoners were gone. The girl who warned him two days ago seemed to have vanished into thin air.

"Why should I trust you?" asked Harry, hand toying with the wand in his hand.

"You can'," replied Scabior, gently stroking Eryan's hair "bu' get 'er out please. She's been 'ere for five days. Tortured the entire time for your cause." Harry bit fiddled with the wand still looking at Eryan sprawled out on the floor and how a man he thought was a murderer treated her like a fragile doll. Harry had talked a little with Eryan, remembering how she saved him from a curse that Bellatrix sent his way when they went to the Ministery two years ago. They talked sometimes at Grimmauld Place when Sirius had been alive; when she reassured him visions weren't always evil things.

"Why should I help you?" demanded Harry, hesitant on what relationship a snatcher and member of The Order of the Phoenix could have.

"I'm not askin' you to do it for me, I'm askin' you on 'er behalf," said Scabior, a pleading look in his eyes.

"I know you own 'er," said Scabior "please". This was true and Harry didn't really want to leave her behind. He had told Dobby to take Eryan next. A loud cracking sound filled the room, Dobby appearing once again after taking the goblin Griphook away. Dobby's large tennis balls eyes looked up at Harry then the snatcher.

"Look, I'll go up an' cause distraction upstairs, you grab your friend an' leave," said Scabior. The house-elf stepped forward, puffing out his tiny chest towards Scabior.

"Dobby will help Harry Potter and friends," declared the house-elf in a proud voice. Scabior couldn't help but smile down at him.

"Alrigh' mate you do tha'" said Scabior, moving towards the stairs. Dobby looked up at Harry who nodded pointing at Eryan. The house-elf gently touched her hand before leaving once again. Scabior peered upstairs seeing the guard was still gone. He signalled for Ron and Harry to follow. The trio quietly walked upstairs deathly silent in case the guard appeared again.

Scabior pointed down the hallway.

"Turn left there an' you'll see an ugly paintin' of a woman dressed in pink. There's a small bookcase beside it. Pull ou' the leather bound book on the third shelf. A tunnel will open to the room wit' your friend in. You'll have the surprise attack," explained Scabior, before retreating in the opposite directions.

"You're not coming with us?" asked Ron, raising an eyebrow at Scabior. Scabior shrugged.

"Eryan's safe now. All you gotta do is ge' your friend. I'm gonna see if I can still save muggle-borns," he said, Harry turned around for a few moments.

"Thank you," he said, before walking down the corridor. Scabior smiled quickly leaving the house and taking a small silver ash tray for good measure. He walked out the door, heading back into the nearby woods. He gazed back up at the Manor for the last time.

"Keep her safe," he whispered, before appariting away.

_**Well, isn't that nice. Not the best plan but again Scabior is a Slytherin and does think of selfish plans. Eryan is having wacky, rapey dreams reflecting her inner most fears. Maybe her boggart would be an evil Scabior. Yeah, I put my character through some shit. Also, for those who don't know about British slang going for 'a slash' means going to the toilet for a pee. Us Brits are weird. Till next time dear readers.**_


	11. Ok, Seriously Brain?

Ok, Seriously Brain?

Eryan was now starting to get really bored of the obscure, freaky dreams. Sure, they scared the shit out of her but it can only go on for so long before you wonder where the exit is. Most of the dreams were populated with Scabior being very rapey or a dark, shadowy thing that kept torturing everyone. The fun never really ended after Bellatrix. Doors kept popping up all over the place but each led to a nightmare that slowly got worse as she went on.

Now, Eryan found herself stuck in some weird dream place. It looked like the forest in Norway her mother lived in with the elf tribe. Except all the trees were a pure white colour and the ground was glowing a strange silver colour. Eryan scratched her head wondering what to do. Being stuck in a weird shining forest was better than the torture dreams. A figure sat on a bench underneath a nearby tree, twiddling their thumbs. Eryan looked at them in utter surprise.

"Professor Dumbledore?" said Eryan, unsure if it was the once great wizard. But he smiled, eyes glistening behind his half-moon spectacles. Yup, the every same man. It was hard not to call him Professor Dumbledore since Eryan had spent seven years doing it.

"Hello Eryan, it's rather nice to see someone like you here," he said in a rather cheerful tone. He took out a white bag from under his cloak and held it out to Eryan. Her former headmaster seemed the same as ever, a kindly old man that cared dearly for his students.

"Sherbet lemon?" asked Dumbledore, Eryan hesitated. After the past… well, merlin's know how long she'd been stuck here, Eryan had grown weary of things in the dreaming.

"You're not going to turn into an evil, black veiny thing are you? Or the sweets turn into beetles or something gross like that?" she enquired. Dumbledore raised a white bushy eyebrow and stared down at the sweets.

"I don't believe so," he said. Eryan stepped forward plucking out a sweet from the bag.

"Good, I'd be very upset if you did," she said, popping the sweet into her mouth. Dumbledore smiled kindly over towards her.

"I don't doubt that dear girl," he chuckled, taking a sweet himself.

They sat in the white forest chewing a few sweets while Eryan tried to work out how to get out. Wizards and witches had speculated for years there might be a place which the subconscious retreats to when in dire need. Rather than retreating into their own mind, somehow they go to a place which is referred to as 'the dreaming'. Eryan guessed she had ended up here just after the fifth day of torture.

"So, how have you been?" she asked, taking another sweet, staring up at the dream sky. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Dead, I believe," he answered. Eryan shook her head smiling a little.

"No, I mean- well – why aren't you – you know – in an afterlife or whatever?" she stuttered out, unsure now how to handle talking to a dead man. Dumbledore's eyes still had the same twinkle they always did when he had a plan.

"Oh, I am merely waiting for someone," he said.

"You must been pretty bored then,"

"Oh no, you're not the only one to have passed through here,"

Eryan sighed remembering all the riddles he used to talk in when she was at Hogwarts. Twice she and Scabior ended up in Dumbledore's office with Snape complaining about their behaviour. Scabior managed to be the only Slytherin Snape couldn't stand or even pretended to like. Dumbledore never yelled at them or did anything Snape kept suggesting. He just looked on disappointed at them, making them feel guilty anyway. Far more effective than yelling.

Eryan turned to him, remembering the terrible day she attended his funeral. So many people were there to honour him. She really wished Scabior had been there.

"Do you know how to get out of here?" she asked. Dumbledore twirled the end of his beard, thoughtfully looking around the forest.

"Hmm, I think when your business is done here, you can leave," he answered. Eryan frowned at him. Business? She just wanted to leave, not hang about for something.

"But I just want to wake up," said Eryan.

"I believe you have one more door to open though," said Dumbledore, placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her over to a white door that had suddenly popped up. Ignoring the nagging logic in her head, Eryan accepted the door in the middle of a forest. It was the dreaming after all. It glistened a little, a warm aura pooling out of it making things feel comfortable. Eryan hesitated looking up at Dumbledore who continued to smile in a kindly manner.

"I'm not going to regret this I am?" she asked, "I've had quite enough of dreams." Dumbledore chuckled patting her shoulder.

"I think you'll like this one," he said.

Eryan stepped towards the door, slowly reaching for the door handle. For a moment she wanted to turn around and run for the hills. But no true feeling of malice came from the door. It stood shining a brilliant white colour, something so pure and innocent looking shouldn't be too bad. Eryan quickly turned back flinging her arms around Dumbledore and hugged him before barging through the door. Dumbledore smiled straightening out his askew glasses as the door shut behind Eryan.

8888888

Everything seemed so warm and cosy. Eryan could tell she was a double bed wrapped up a huge duvet. It smelt pleasant and provided warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. Eryan snuggled down hoping she had woken up for real this time. A door nearby creaked open behind her and small feet rushed into the room. Something jumped on the bed. Eryan groaned feeling this would be another nightmare. But the figures just bounced up and down.

"Come one, wake up," called a child's voice. A boy by the sound of it. A separate child jumped nearer to her on the opposite side.

"Yeah, it's time for breakfast, Daddy made pancakes," lisped the other child, a girl. Eryan opened her eyes slowly and uncurled herself from the duvet. The two children smiled up at her. The little girl had long, messy brown hair with a red streak in it and green eyes with flecks of blue. The little boy had pale blonde hair sticking up in awkward clumps. His eyes were a bright blue. They appeared the same age, around nine or ten. They both started pulling the duvet off Eryan. She stared around the room for a moment seeing a nice big bedroom. A woman's dressing table on one side of the room with hairbands and brushes littered all over it. The walls were painted a nice yellow colour. Women and men's clothes littered the area.

"Alright, I'm up," she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet brushed two blue slippers. Eryan slipped into them, the two children taking her hands and led her down a hallway into a kitchen.

A radio played overhead blaring out tunes by the Weird Sisters song. Children's paintings, lists and notes were tacked to the cupboards and fridge. It looked like the classic little country house kitchen with the black stove and tiled flooring. Herbs hung over the cooker, a dog basket sitting in the corner just beside the stove. Eryan noticed a large window over the kitchen side. Staring outside, she saw a large field that was littered with children's toys and various other things. It took a moment for her to realise they were in her old house. The one she grew up in with Byron before she went to live with her grandmother. The two children giggled sitting up on the large oak table next to a young teenager about fourteen who had Byron's long, dark hair. The boy looked annoyed over at the two children and continued reading about _Defence Against The Dark Arts. _

"Hayley, Kai, wha' did I say? Don' wake Mum up until the pancakes are ready," said Scabior entering the kitchen holding twins, another boy and girl, in his arms while a girl, who was about twelve, followed him room. Eryan tried to stop her jaw from hitting the floor. Scabior still wore his horrible plaid pants but he looked a little older with crow's feet around his eyes. Grey wisps streaked through his brown hair that was tied loosely back. He'd even grow a small beard.

"Sorry luv, they were getting' impatient as always," said Scabior kissing her cheek. Eryan stood dumbfounded as Scabior placed the two six year old twins into chairs around the table.

"Byron, stop readin' at the table," instructed Scabior, aimed at the sulking teenager. Byron put the book down as Scabior went about pouring batter mix into a frying pan. He waved his wand, nine plates flying around the table and settled in front of them all.

"Ethel, leave Lydia an' Sirus alone, they are fine," said Scabior, looking at the twelve year old fussing over the six year old twins. Scabior looked around, flour painting his hair and keeping an eye on the pancakes. He frowned.

"Where's Jared?" asked Scabior, looking at an empty seat. An eight year old boy with red hair ran into the kitchen pulling a jumper over his head. He looked a little flustered as he sat down at the table. Scabior rolled his eyes as he began placing pancakes onto the dishes. Eryan tried not to stand up and run. Where these… where these children all hers and Scabior's? That thought terrified her the most. She only planned to have two kids. But seven of them sat around the table shovelling down pancakes. Scabior sat down beside her smiling over at her.

"Imagine if you hadn' saved me," said Scabior, pouring golden syrup on his pancakes. Eryan stared over a little confused.

"I mean, we wouldn' have all this. The kids wouln' be 'ere, I'd probably be in Azkaban, you'd probably be dead an' I'm jus happy it worked out," he explained, taking her hand and squeezing it. Eryan smiled lightly unsure of what to do. Was this a dream or something that was going to happen? It all felt very real. Maybe this was a possible future. It did seem very nice even if they did go passed the amount of children she actually wanted. Eryan kissed Scabior on the cheek earning a few 'ews' from the younger children.

"It's perfect," she said.

Slowly the happy family faded into darkness and felt the true reality filter in. Everything ached, she felt terrible and Hermione Granger was bent over looking worried.

"Oh you're awake," gasped Hermione a smile stretching over her face.

"Harry, Ron, Eryan's fine, she's woken up," shouted Hermione. Eryan felt like death and only wished she could go back to the happy family scene.

_**List of potential children by Scabior and Eryan. Ages in the dream sequence and reasons for their naming. **_

_**Byron Laertes Scabior – Fourteen – named after Eryan's father and has Scabior's first name as a middle name. **_

_**Ethel Amaya Scabior – Twelve – Named after Eryan's grandmother and mother even though Eryan only sees her once every five years. **_

_**Kai Alastor Scabior – Ten – Upon the request of Scabior, Kai is named after his grandfather and Alastor after Eryan's old mentor.**_

_**Hayley Nymphadora Scabior – Ten – Named after the girl Eryan couldn't save and Eryan's girl best friend. **_

_**Jared Fred Scabior – Eight – Jared was a friend of Scabior's in Azkaban and used to help keep them both sane by talking about strange subjects. Jared was killed when refused to become a snatcher. Eryan wanted to honour her dead friend so he received the middle of the lost Weasley. **_

_**Lydia Eryan Scabior – Six – named after Scabior's mother and Eryan's name. **_

_**Sirius Remus Scabior – Six – Received the names of the two good friends of Eryan. She kept Sirius company when he had none in Grimmauld place and honoured Remus after she found out her died with Tonks. **_

_**So, yeah, those two get pretty busy in a potential future unless Eryan gets her arse in gear. **_


	12. Family Matters

Family Matters

Scabior stood on the muggle council estate staring up at the big tower blocks. They loomed over him, boxing him in the little concrete jungle. Today the sun shone for the first time in months. Such an odd thing considering the mood he was in. Muggle children ran passed him, kicking a ball against the walls while a mother hurried after them yelling. She gave Scabior an odd look before hurrying her children away. Yup, take them away from the big, bad man. It had been a week since the break out from the Manor, Scabior kept checking the ball seeing it was a nice gold colour. But when he went to the beach she was never there. Maybe she hadn't recovered. Or maybe she just couldn't forgive him anymore. Scabior didn't know. He just needed to go somewhere he'd been avoiding for some time.

Running a hand through the loose tresses of his hair, Scabior sucked in a breath before climbing up the cramped stairwell. Muggle places like these were never pleasant, they always smelt funny and everything was falling apart. Scabior got to the third level of the tower block, even though he hadn't been here in years, he knew where to go. He stopped looking at a red peeling door. Lifting up a hand to knock, he hesitated for a moment. Would this really resolve anything? Or would it just make things worse? Scabior quickly knocked before he could change his mind. A few shuffling sounds came behind the door and a little cursing. The door swung open revealing a sour old man. He had long grey hair, streaked with white locks and one blond eye. The other widened in shock at the sight of Scabior. The two men stared at each other for a moment, the younger shuffled around with discomfort. The older man stood to his full height glaring at the younger man.

"An' wha' does someone like you wan' wit' an old squib like me?" said the old man, folding his arms at Scabior. Toying with the golden ball in his coat pocket, Scabior nervously tried to tell the old man.

"I wan' to talk, Uncle Magnus," replied Scabior, head bowed. Magus Scabior rolled his eyes, before stepping out of the doorway signalling for Scabior to come in. Scabior entered seeing the flat hadn't changed in past seven years since he'd ran away. The ugly pink wallpaper still remained in the living room, unmoving photos of a young boy hung from them. A few of a smiling woman with blonde hair sat on the mantelpiece. Scabior scanned the photos noticing that his childhood photos were still up.

"You kept 'em?" asked Scabior, in slight disbelief. Magus grunted as he put the kettle on.

"You were the closet thing I 'ad to a son, since Mary couldn'…" Magnus trailed off looking at the blonde woman's photo. Scabior fidgeted uneasily eyes falling on a moving photo hidden at the back. He plucked it out from the framed ones. A pretty woman held a squirming little boy no older than three who was holding a toy broomstick, a man stared down at them both smiling as if he couldn't be happier. It was photo of Scabior and his parents. Kairon looked a lot different, not drunk and actually clean. Lydia hugged the little boy close as if she never wanted to let him go.

"Do you know why she loved him?" asked Scabior, holding out the photo to Magus. His uncle studied the photo before placing it back.

"Lydia was a kind woman," started Magnus, signalling for Scabior to sit down "Kairon was no' a very nice man as you very well know. Bu' when she was around it was like she could banish the darkness in 'im." Scabior sighed trying to remember her. Only the faint smell of honey and being picked up into warm arms sprang to mind.

"Is our family all like Dad?" asked Scabior, fearing the answer. Magnus stood in the kitchen door staring at his nephew.

"Our father, your grandfather was a cruel man. 'E sen' me off to a muggle orphanage as soon as 'e found I didn' 'ave a drop of magic in me. Used to kick me an' your father room to room for fun when we were nippers, my brother's anger came from hatred for our Dad" said Magnus, taking down two mugs from his cupboard.

"So, my Mum, she 'elped Dad wit' his problems?"

"As I said Lydia was a very kind woman, even go' Kairon to talk to me even when 'e was to meant to act as if I was dead, 'e did love 'er, tha's why it broke 'im when she died." Scabior couldn't remember much about his mother or the day she died. He could only recall the bitter anger in his father. The rage that utterly overwhelmed Kairon making him a slave to grief. For the first time ever, a pang of sympathy went through Scabior when thinking about his father. Because Scabior knew what it was like, the feeling of losing someone you loved with every inch of your body. For once, Scabior understood his father.

"I gather you're 'ere for more than just finding your parents after all these years," said Magnus, placing a teapot onto his stained coffee table "I 'aven't 'eard from my wayward nephew in sometime. So wha' 'appened?" Scabior fidgeted a little.

"Do you remember Eryan?" he asked.

"Yes, tha' lovely 'alf-elf girl you were friends wit. Wha' abou' 'er?" said Magnus, placing sugar on the table.

"Well, I think you can guess which side of the war she is on an' wha' side I was on," said Scabior.

"You didn' did you?" asked Magus, a horrified expression passing over his face. Scabior shook his head. The older man relaxed, continuing to pour the tea into old, chipped mugs.

"Tha' girl was the best thin' to happen to you," said Magnus, settling into an old moth eaten armchair that possibly used to be a green colour but now faded into grey. Scabior toyed with his own mug unable to swallow any of its contents.

"I know she was bu' I still manage to 'urt 'er in some way," he said. Magus raised a bushy eyebrow.

"She got caugh' by some other snatchers, almost died an all. I got 'er out bu' I don't know how's she's doin', she hasn' been to the usual spot we mee' up at. I guess she's still 'urt," explained Scabior, placing the mug onto the coffee table.

"You've been seein' 'er then?" asked Magnus.

"Every Tuesday for the pas' month in secret," said Scabior.

"Proper Romeo an' Juliet you two are," said Magnus, sniffing dismissively. Scabior arched an eyebrow at the reference. Magnus rolled his eyes.

"Don' worry, it's a muggle play about two lovers who can' be together," said Magnus. Scabior looked at his hands, making Magnus lean forward with interest.

"You love 'er," stated Magnus. Scabior kept his eyes averted not looking the older man in the eye.

"Tha's why you're askin' abou' your old man, you're afraid of becomin' 'im," said Magnus. Scabior stared at the man who always sheltered him as a child when he ran away from home. The squib uncle who treated him like a son whenever he turned up on the down step after escaping Kairon's mood swings. The one who took him in when his father died. The very man who waited for his return even after the seven years of silence. Despite Magnus's rough exterior, he truly cared for his nephew's wellbeing.

"I'm sorry Uncle, tha' I ran away an' stopped talkin' to you. It was a selfish thin' to do bu' I was in wit a bad crowd an' got to deep an' couldn' get myself out of it," said Scabior.

The older man stroked his beard thoughtfully regarding the young man's apology. It was very sincere even if it was belated.

"It broke my 'eart the day I found out you were thrown into tha' prison. I wasn' allowed to see you, squibs are shunned an' ignored. So I waited for the day you would come back," explained Magnus, patting Scabior on the shoulder.

"Why were you so sure I would come back?" he asked. Magnus smiled, pouring another cup of tea.

"You migh' be a Scabior bu' she's in there to. You migh' 'ave a bad temper an' a dark side bu' I think Lydia's love an' compassion is there to, you've only jus' found it," explained his uncle "took your bloody time though." Scabior let out a small laugh, the burden feeling a little lighter.

They sat around drinking tea for a moment while Scabior thought about how he wanted his life to go now. No more snatching, no more working for that noseless git and no one following orders from that psychotic bitch. Today, he would do everything in his power to save the wizarding world from darkness.

"Are we cursed? I mean wit' you an' Mary, Dad an' Mum, I'm startin' to wonder if our family 'as a curse," said Scabior earning a gruff laugh Magnus.

"I've actually wondered that to after Mary died bu' then again I think we carve out our own destiny," replied Magnus, staring fondly at Mary's photos. She had been a muggle, died when Scabior was twelve. A nice lady who insisted on cooking even though she was really bad at it. When Scabior used to run away to his uncles, he always felt like a family with them. A few times wished he'd been born their child.

Scabior put down his mug and stood up smiling at his uncle.

"Thank you, for listenin'. I've kinda been the worst nephew for a while, when the war is over, I'll set thin's righ'" promised Scabior heading towards the door. Magnus knew about the wizarding war, not completely blind to what was happening in the world. At first he was ashamed of his nephew, now that had been changed. Scabior became the man Magnus hoped he would be.

"Wha' will you do now?" asked Magnus before Scabior dived out the door. Scabior turned around smiling.

"I'm goin' to carve out my destiny," he answered, before disappearing out the door. Magnus shook his head lightly laughing. He opened a drawer that held a few moving photos he'd been sent over the years. The photo was of two children about thirteen years old standing outside the Hogwarts grounds. It had been snowing and they were throwing snowballs at each other. It was of Scabior and Eryan enjoying their odd friendship. Two innocents completely unaware of things to come, enjoying their time together. Magnus smiled.

"I 'ope you an' that girl are 'appy," he whispered, tucking the photo back into the drawer.

_**Well, Uncle Magnus seems like a nice man. Scabior is finally getting over to the good side. I think the dark side offered cookies, very tempting to join. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, favourites and such, you're very kind people. Till next time. **_


	13. Whose Side Is It Anyway?

Whose Side Is It Anyway?

"How is she?" asked Hermione, helping Fleur tidy up the house. Eryan had woken up a day ago, still in a lot of pain but she was able to shuffle short distances. She hadn't said much to any of them, just sitting in the upstairs bedroom. Fleur smiled, quickly wiping down the kitchen table.

"She 'as gone quiet. She stares out zat window for hours, she does not eat or sleep much," said Fleur, "I theek she was tortured for some time." Hermione nodded placing a hand over her own faint memory of torture. She'd only experienced a few hours; Eryan had been there for almost a week. Harry had said she was barely alive when they got her out.

Fleur waved her wand, starting to make sandwiches for everyone as Hermione took out plates for her. That stood in silence for a few moments while the food was prepared.

"Would you take it to 'er?" asked Fleur, handing Hermione a jam sandwich. Taking it, Hermione cautiously walked up to where Eryan was staying. She remembered being by her bedside, helping Eryan take her medicine. Her mumbling that snatchers name like they were… friends. Asking him not to leave. What connection did a member of the Order have with a snatcher?

"Eryan," said Hermione, lightly tapping on the door. She entered seeing Eryan sitting in a wicker chair beside the window, there was a stale sandwich on the bedside with only a few bites in it. She looked a lot better now, only a few faded marks on her arms. Her hair had been combed and placed into a braid. The sleeves of the clothes she wore had been rolled up since Fleur was quite a bit taller than her. Eryan didn't even turn around when she entered.

"I've got another sandwich," said Hermione, placing the plate down next to the stale sandwich. Eryan kept staring out the window. Was she in shock? Had the torture done too much? Damaged her in some way?

"Eryan…" said Hermione, hearing the door open. Harry and Ron entered both looking over at Eryan who remained still.

"Is she talking?" asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head. Harry had been pacing the house while Eryan recovered, wanted to know if she's said anything. He didn't know how much she knew about what was going on but he wanted a chance to check if she hadn't let anything slip. Plus, the whole thing with the snatcher seemed a little strange.

"I didn't tell them anything," Eryan said still staring out of the window. Hermione jumped, surprised by Eryan talking again.

"I was mostly to busy screaming anyway," she continued, scratching absently at her torture cuts. Ron nervously kicked at the floor unsure how to react. He was highly angry at the snatcher for putting Hermione at risk but Eryan almost died. It seemed a lot of people were dying. Their allies were wearing thin. The trio had only spoken a little with Eryan. They first met when Barty Crouch Jr was disguised as Moody. The young Auror spent most the Triwizard cup trying to talk with her mentor for him to avoid her. It wasn't until Dumbledore talked to Eryan about the old Auror's avoidance of his protégé did suspicion start to rise.

Harry gazed at the half elf remembering her punching the imposter and helping Moody out the trunk. The face of anger never seemed so terrifying. He remembered the time in Grimmauld place when she talked to him about the loss of one's parents. Eryan had been standing in the family tree room lightly touching a scorch mark on the wall. She was good friends with Sirius, helping him escape once or twice into secure locations before settling in Grimmauld place.

"Someone you know?" asked Harry, making Eryan jump back. She frowned a little, not liking it when someone caught her off guard.

"My father," she answered. Eryan never really said much to people she didn't know. The only person Harry had seen her have a long conversation with was Tonks. They acted like sisters more than friends. Harry even saw Eryan smile at Tonks. The half elf remained mostly silent during the meeting he attended. If he hadn't seen the way Eryan acted around Tonks, Harry would've been a tad scared of Eryan.

"So, you're related to Sirius then?" asked Harry.

"Very loosely, I'm the great-great granddaughter of the first Sirus Black who was Phineas Black's brother and your Sirius's great-great grandfather. My father was burnt off when he married my mother a woodland elf," explained Eryan, staring forlornly at the burn mark with 'Byron Michaels' underneath it.

"Where is your father now?"

"Dead,"

"Oh, sorry,"

"Don't be. I'm proud of the way he died. Even though it hurts sometimes, I'm glad he was brave to the end, he was a very noble man."

Harry stared at the blackened patch wondering if he should be proud the Eryan was. Proud of the way his parents stood against the darkest wizard, dying to protect him. Only it ate away at him. Guilt and sadness.

"Everyone reacts differently to the loss of a parent, Harry. I knew who my father was; I knew what he wanted for me. I can never truly get over it but I am happy in the knowledge I can continue his work," said Eryan, her mismatched eyes staring into Harry's green ones.

"And what was that?"

"Punching evil hard in the face,"

Eryan smiled at him, ruffling his already messy hair. Harry blushed, leaving the room while Eryan stared at her father's burnt part of the tree. After that they exchanged a couple of words at dinner and Eryan even turned up to the Christmas at Grimmauld place since all her close family were dead. Or running around somewhere in Norway. People didn't really bring that up. Now Harry looked Eryan unsure about how their relationship as friends would progress. He couldn't get over the fact a snatcher had been so desperate to save her. It just didn't seem right or make sense. She wasn't the same woman whom he formed a small crush on as a fifteen year old.

"So, what's been happening with you three?" asked Eryan, snuggling close into her red jumper. She seemed small and fragile. The trio looked at each other all painted with a worried expression. Eryan raised an eyebrow not happy with this reaction. They all sat in an awkward silence as Eryan glared at them.

"Ok, is anyone going to speak or are we just waiting until the dark lord finds and kills us all?" she asked.

"It's just…" began Ron, then he fell silent again. Eryan looked on in annoyance. Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's top secret Eryan; no one knows what we've been doing. It's just us three," said Harry. Eryan's frown grew deeper.

"Oh, I'm sorry for asking, I must be crazy from all the torture," snapped Eryan, glaring over at Harry and clutching her side "I have the right to know what you are doing and where you are going." Harry shook his head while Hermione gave him a small pleading look before turning back to Eryan.

"It's not that we don't want to tell you, it's just…" Hermione trailed off, staring desperately at both boys. The all stood opening and closing their mouths for a few moments when Luna walked in holding some medicine.

"Are you telling her about the snatcher saving us and then her mumbling his name a lot?" she asked, smiling absently. Eryan stopped glaring at them all, looking over at Luna and then back to the trio.

"That's why you won't tell me?" she asked. Ron shrugged awkwardly. Hermione tried smiling but failed. Harry just kept looking out at the window.

"Harry, say something?" said Eryan.

"What do you want me to say? I pulled you out of a house where the snatcher who caught us pleaded us to save you and then I had to bury my friend!" he said the first parts quite quiet, yelling the last part. Eryan went stony faced; she slowly rose from her chair. Walking sluggishly over towards Harry, she went right up into his face.

"I have buried friends too, I have had people die in my arms, I have done things I never thought I would, and I have been tortured for information for the past week. For one second can you stop pretending you're the only one who has lost something," she said in the deathly quiet voice.

"Eryan, it's not that we don't want to tell but it is something just between us three," said Hermione, becoming a bit scared of Eryan. The half elf fell back into the chair glaring at them all before falling silent again.

"Plus, the whole thing with the snatcher is a bit weird," filled in Ron earning a glare from everyone in the room apart from Luna who was happily making a new cork necklace. Eryan stared out the window at the sea.

"He was my best friend at Hogwarts," stated Eryan.

"The snatcher?" asked Harry, still confused.

"Yes, he wasn't always like this. Not everyone starts out truly evil. Well, apart from the Dark Lord, that guy has serious issues," said Eryan; the trio smiled nervously prompting Eryan to back on topic.

"Even though we were in different houses, we did everything together. But when we finished school, Scabior fell in with a bad crowd and broke off contact. After a brief stint in Azkaban, we accidently found each other again. We – we agreed to meet in a secret place where we'd talk about things other than the war. I wanted to try and bring him over to our side," explained Eryan.

"Do you think him that trustworthy?" asked Harry. Eryan nodded, keeping her doubts inside.

He had saved her. Stopped the torture, even released the trio and others. A man working for the other side couldn't do that. Scabior risked everything to get them out. If that wasn't an act of love, what was? Eryan believed in him. If only the others would.

"Are you still on our side?" asked Harry, hating himself for bringing up the question but he had to know. Eryan bit her bottom lip a little.

"I will always fight for what is right," she answered. Hermione glanced over not saying anything. The half elf's statement was a bit ambiguous but it seemed to satisfy Harry. It depends what her idea of right was now. The snatcher guy was creepy but he also saved them with a very stupid method. Maybe this should run its course. Hermione liked Eryan well enough, only thinking she was risking far too much.

The trio and Luna left her sitting in the chair pondering over the crazy twists her life had taken. She never wanted to lose him again and actually even wanted that dream/possibly future to come true. Even if the idea of having seven children freaked her out. Do people do this when they're in love? Forsake all others and just go with it? Eryan ignored everything Moody had ever taught her, ignored those two years where Scabior abandoned her for the wrong crowd and ignored those seven years apart. Because all she really wanted was to be with him again, no matter what.

Eryan sighed, picking up the sandwich Fleur had made. Her stomach was growling now. Maybe shunning food had been a bad idea. Needed the strength to continue on with this bloody war anyway. Working off the damage Bellatrix inflicted wasn't going to be easy either. Her muscles felt stiff and all jelly like at the same time. It was a highly strange combination. Eryan sighed putting down the half eaten sandwich, hoisting herself up. The muscles stretched and ached, causing Eryan to sit back down again. Breathing heavily, Eryan stood back up, slowly walking over to her robes. Fishing through them, Eryan smiled finding the ball still in her pocket. Her legs began to quiver. Eryan lost balance falling onto the floor. When Bill and Fleur came to see what the loud noise was, all they found was a smiling Eryan holding a golden ball.

_**Sorry about the lateness :/ my workload picked up in uni, plus I'm involved in the short film company there so I've been writing scripts, acting and directing. Apparently I like the busy life. Hope you enjoyed it though :). **_


	14. Stay With Me

Stay With Me

Eryan spend the next week getting her limbs to work the proper way again. Bellatrix really went to town on her, the psychotic bitch particularly favoured destroying Eryan's legs. The hatred for the half breed burnt in those twisted dark eyes. Thankfully that part was over but the war still raged on. Too hell with sitting around and doing nothing while the world outside fought for all it was worth. Byron would be proud of Eryan merely doing what she had been since all hell broke loose. Only now she could lose everything, the man she loved, their future… Eryan grunted, pushing herself to walk four more steps. Scabior must be worried sick. He's risked everything to get her out. Now time to get better and meet at the usual spot hopefully he'd be there. The glass ball still glowed golden signalling he was safe.

Listening to the wizard radio for updates on the trio's development kept her in the loop. Not many people could figure out their game plan but Eryan had faith. With Hermione in the mix, the other two would be just fine. Bill wanted Eryan to slow down, take it easy and let the other more abled Order members to take care of things. With the risk of losing the only precious thing she had, Eryan declined. The eldest Weasley decided to help her each day, building two supports so she could walk further. They joked and talked while she fumbled around with awkward limbs. At first, Fleur didn't like it, keeping an eye on her husband but soon saw Eryan's lack of interest, becoming friendlier to the half elf. After a two weeks, Eryan could walk without aid again, legs still a little bit stiff. The following Tuesday being only a day away, Eryan thanked Bill and Fleur for helping her.

"Are you sure about this Eryan?" asked Bill, watching the young Auror put her coat on. Eryan smiled patting the red headed man on the shoulder smiling kindly.

"I'm fine Bill, muscles are still a little stiff but hopefully I won't get into too many dangerous situations," said Eryan, flicking a bag over her shoulder.

"So, as soon as you soon step out the door?"

"Oh come on I'd at least till the snatcher forest,"

"You just go looking for trouble don't you?"

"No, trouble just kinda sits around and waits for me to get there,"

The two friends laughed and shared a brief hug, Eryan kissing Fleur on the cheek, thanking the former Triwizard champion for helping her during the most vulnerable moment of her life. Fleur smiled uneasily worry sparking in her eyes.

"Stay safe pleeze," said Fleur giving Eryan one more brief hug.

"I'll try," she answered back knowing she couldn't promise anything. The whole thing about being an Auror is that safety usually ran away from you. Meeting up with a snatcher each week was like asking danger to come and rearrange her face. However, the half elf couldn't stay away any longer. She wanted to see him, wanted to thank him and hold him again. This time things hopefully would work out. Eryan waved one last time before appariting away. The two married Weasley's looked at each other in a worried manner before stepping back into the cottage hoping their friend would make it through this terrible war.

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Scabior growled in frustration and kicked furiously at the ground. She probably was too scared to come back now. He was a snatcher, a man working for the other side. Working for the very people who put her in a critical state. The glass ball showed a golden mist meaning she was safe and sound. A lot better off without him constantly endangering her anyway. Even if Scabior never saw Eryan again at least he knew she would always safe. Scabior sighed staring up at the sky, loose strands of hair being played with by the wind. Grey again like very week, the sun hiding away its face as if it too were ashamed of him. If he was at peace with this idea, why did his heart feel like it was about to break?

He shook his head thinking it stupid that someone as noble as Eryan could ever love a coward like himself. It had been an impossible notion from the start anyway. Going after something doomed from the start felt so redundant. Better just continue snatching until someone killed him. Scabior turned his back on the sea facing towards the cave. He froze up completely. Standing at the mouth of the cave was Eryan. Her pale hair blew in the wind as she stared at him. He blinked thinking it was all an illusion. Nope, still there. Eryan started slowly walking towards him until she picked the pace into a light jog and then a full on run.

Wet sand threw itself up onto her jeans but Eryan didn't stop, wiping any that landed on her face. She threw her arms around him, kissing his still surprised mouth. Scabior's brain kicked in out of its shocked state, He wrapped his arms around her tightly as if to never let her go again. He kissed back thinking her lips were the sweetest things he'd ever tasted.

"I missed you," she said, breaking away from the frenzied kissing and leaning her forehead against his.

"I missed you to luv," he answered back, holding her tightly to him afraid she would slip away again.

"I was so lost, I kept looking for you and I kept going the wrong way," said Eryan, hugging him tightly. Scabior kissed her once again savouring the taste, wishing that there wasn't a war, that he wasn't a bad guy and they could live happily together.

"I will always find you," he answered back, hoping it all didn't sound a little clichéd.

Eryan smiled toying with a strand of Scabior's loose hair, wondering if this was the right time to ask him to come with her, be on her side. For now she was very happy to just lay on the beach in his arms listening to the waves crash around them.

"We could just leave you know," said Eryan, placing her head on his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart.

"Leave?" questioned Scabior.

"Yeah, run off and let the war just pan out, go somewhere no one would find us,"

"Like where?"

"I don't know, China, Australia, Norway, somewhere we could live in peace,"

Scabior stared up at the blue sky, highly tempted to say yes to the whole thing. Only Eryan was saying it just to protect him from dark magic. Dark magic made him a slave to its seductive nature, playing on his weaknesses, the thing he feared. Being around other snatchers just made it worse. It grew and raged inside him, making him lash out in horrible ways. It was the whole damn reason he ended up in that damn prison. Giving into those terrible ways by listening to a bad crowd rather than just going to his best friend for help. Maybe this could have all been avoided. They might have been happier for it, not on opposite sides desperately clinging onto one another.

"I don' think we can run luv," said Scabior, stroking her blonde hair. Eryan stared at Scabior in a confused manner; usually he was the first to bolt. Whenever old McGonagall said the lesson was over, Scabior would already be half way out the door.

"Why not?" asked Eryan.

"Cos you would never betray your friend's tha' way. I'm the one tha' runs bu' you stand your ground, you're the noble one out the two of us," answered Scabior, kissing her on the nose.

Eryan sighed leaning back into his chest, little plans formulating in her head but falling apart soon after. Running felt like the easy option out.

"You're right, though I have no idea what we should do," said Eryan, snuggling deep into his coat. Scabior smiled lightly, holding her close happy that they reunited. He really doubted this would have worked out but apparently luck was on his side in this one.

"I wanna sit wit' you, watch the sunset an' then go back to savin' people," answered Scabior, looping a strand of blonde hair around his finger.

"Are you coming with me then?"

"No luv, I can' save anyone if your lot locks me up, better I stay wit' the snatchers, work as a double agent,"

"You would do that,"

"I'd do anythin' for you,"

Eryan smiled, throwing her arms around Scabior again and kissing him passionately again. The two sat in the sand kissing for a while before pulling away blushing a little.

"I don't want to lose you again," admitted Eryan, staring out to sea.

"You won't. I'll keep tryin' to 'elp muggle borns an' half 'uns an' when this war finally reaches an actual battle, I'll be there by your side," promised Scabior. Eryan leaned against him watching as dark clouds rolled away taking it as a good sign. Hopefully they could see that future Eryan dreamt about together.

_**Scabior is starting to show a nicer side. He's not magically cured just because Eryan is there but he's getting better, trying to become the man he hopes she can proud of. Thanks for reading. **_


End file.

Harry Potter, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort