The night after they buried Dobby was a silent one.
It is also the night when she first thinks of death and dying, of pain and blood, of love and lust. Tries to define and make proper examples. Looking at her hand, she wonders if the word Mudblood will ever disappear. Probably not.
Ironically, her perfume is still traceable, and her mind shows images of a tall, dark man with an ocean of desire and lust in his eyes (Hello, beautiful). She quickly smells her hair, checking if the Snatcher left a scent on her, and starts to panic when she finds thousands of odour in just one lock.
He laughed when she turned away, disgust on her face; and he came closer, closer and closer until her breath hitched in her troath and his mouth and nose barely made contact with the soft flesh of her throat. Breathe. Calm. Breathe deep.
"I could eat you alive, lovely one" he whispered hoarsely, and she is the only one who can hear it.
Why could the bloody men smell her perfume through three defence spell? It is not that he is a damned werewolf.
Though, he certainly grins like one.
"Would your boyfriend mind if I kept you?" his voice was tingling in her ear, sending shivers down on her spine. She flinched and tried to free her arms from his hands. He grabbed her wrists and ignoring Ron's shouts draw her even closer.
Her body hit his.
His mouth hit hers.
It's a quick kiss, because when she realised what was happening (and it is wrong) she bit his mouth with an immense force. She was proud when she saw the narrow red river flowing down his chin.
But he was still grinning.
And she is still doubting her victory.