Fallen in Love with a Snatcher (Harry Potter Fanfic)

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You're not doing enough!... You're not doing enough!... You're not doing enough!... Hermione's mind kept repeating Harry's words in her head as she stormed away from the campsite. She knew Harry didn't mean it, but it still hurt to hear Harry saying that she hadn't done a thing when she did loads of things for them. Hermione wiped the tears from her face, trying to keep focus on where she was going until there was a snap of twigs caused her head to shoot up. 

She felt her heart stiffen  as she soon listened to the sounds of footsteps heading in her direction. Quickly she hurried behind a large tree and held tightly to her wand in case she might need it to fight her way out of there. She watched as from the distance there came a group of men heading towards her. Her eyes widened when she noticed who they were. 

They were Snatchers. 

Hermione bent down as they past her, watching as they dragged a couple of poor, unfortunate souls, who had been caught by them. She winced as she saw who was in front of the group. Fenrir Greyback. She gulped at the fear of what those poor people were about to go through. They were just leaving the area when suddenly someone paused just a few feet away from her. 

"What's that?" he asked, tilted his head to the side, "What's that smell?" 

Hermione felt herself panic as she remembered she had sprayed herself with her perfume to not be able to smell the awful smells that sometimes plagued the tent when they couldn't bathe for a while. She sunk low as he started to round the tree. He was a medium-built man with long brown hair with a lock of it a scarlet red color. His piercing teal-colored eyes darted around, a gleam of excitement beamed from them like he was hoping to catch something. 

Her eyes stared in horror as he kept getting closer... and closer... 

Then a light thud came from the group, causing him to turn his head to peer over his shoulder, his back turned directly at her. It allowed her to back a bit around the tree so she was better hidden again. 

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked. 

"It's heavy!" a voice whined. 

"Oh! Do you need me to carry it for you?" he said, with a mocking baby tone to his voice. 

"That would be gre---" 

"PICK IT UP!" the man interrupted the other person as he walked towards whoever it was he was talking to. Hermione listened as they argument drifted off in the distance along with their footsteps. She was soon able to breathe as she stood up from where she hid. She began to return towards the campsite when...

"Hello, Beautiful," Hermione shot her head up to see the guy standing right in front of her. She felt her lungs lost their function to breathe. Hermione backed away from him a few steps as he kept his eyes glued right on her. His eyes darted up and down her form  before locking right back onto her own eyes. 

"You know, love...  I always let my prey have a five second head start before chasing after them," he told her; his lips twisted up in a smirk, "So I suggest you might want to start running." 

"Please," Hermione pleaded to him, "you don't have to do this." 

"Five... four... three..." Scabior mumbled as he leaned against the tree. Hermione knew it was no use in trying to make him see reason. She turned on her heel in the other direction away from her campsite and ran as fast as she could. Even though she had covered a good distance, she could still his voice like he was still right next to her saying...

"...two... one,"