Mudblood on the Run

Chapter Seven: Self Respect

I woke up to Scabior getting off of the mattress. I followed suit.

"So, why did you say what you did last night? It was something like 'protector' or what-not." I said, just getting what was bothering me off of my chest. He turned to look at me.

"It's something I used to tell Annabella every night. She said it made her feel safe." Scabior said softly.

"She's afraid of the dark." I said to him. He gave me a look of confusion. "When she was eight she got lost in the woods, and she spent a whole night in there. From that night on she was afraid of the dark."

"I never knew that." He said. He threw a pair of pants at me and I changed. After he changed, I spoke again.

"So, what's our plan for today?" I asked, almost too brightly. He turned to look at me, like he was shocked.

"My plan is to go looking for more muggle borns. You and the other women are going to stay here." Scabior said, shaking his head at me. I scoffed.

"Fine, then. I hope you find what you're looking for." I said, using the same tone of voice that he did.

"C'mon then. I need to leave." Scabior said, grabbing my hand. As soon as we walked out into the ring of tents, and he saw that there were other snatchers out, he put an iron hand around my arm. I winced, and he whispered an apology.

"You two! Stay here, don't do anything stupid!" Freya's snatcher said, pushing her twards me. I steadied her, as Scabior and his snatcher's walked away, turning around only to set up protective enchantments; probably so that nobody could get in or out while they were away.

I turned to Freya, who was rubbing her stomach absentmindedly. She looked over to me when she felt my gaze upon her.

"I took a potion." Was all she said. I furrowed my brow.

"What?" I asked, clearly confused.

"I took a potion that told me how far along I am, and what gender the baby is." Freya said, looking away.

"And?" I pressed, I watched as a tear ran down her cheek.

"I'm eight months. It's a girl." Freya whispered.

"Why are you crying, then?" I asked her, wrapping an arm around her, and pulling her to the ground.

"Don't you see? He's only keeping me alive to have this damned baby, so he can kill two instead of one! They enjoy killing! They don't care what happens to us! They don't care about this baby! They don't want another mouth to feed! Don't you see? They're just keeping me alive to torture me." She ranted. I knew exactly what she was talking about, and I'll do everything in my power to keep her alive.

"I won't let that happen." I told her.

"How do you plan on doing that?" Freya asked me. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know. I'll just do it." I said. She looked away again, and I quickly thought of something to distract her. "What are you going to name her?"

"I don't know. I want it to be from Nordic desent, but I'm not good at thinking of names." She said.

"Why do you like Nordic names?"

"Everybody in my family had a Nordic name. It feels like her name should be too." Freya shrugged. I thought.

"Annika?"

"Mother's name."

"Kerstin?"

"My middle name."

"Dahlia?"

"Sister's name."

"I'm out of names."