A/N: It's not a new chapter so don't get your hopes up - I'm just re-editing and re-uploading the chapters because I realise how many mistakes I've made and how shit at writing I was aha. Hope you enjoy the new version! And I'm also changing Scarlett slightly because I copied too much of another writer's character and I am so sorry for that! It's just your writing was so good!

"That's too much water!" her father slurred, looking down at his diluted vodka. His voice was low, but she did not miss the underlying threat. He was slumped down in his favourite leather armchair by the fireplace, eyes bloodshot as he stared down at the glass in his hands. He could have easily used his wand but magic and drinking never mixed well. He also liked to order her about whenever possible. Scarlett stood by his side glaring at the top of his head. She was starting to worry. Her father was not a happy drunk. The purple bruise on her hip reminded her.

"What? That's how much I always put in." Scarlett's wary tone nearing exasperation. She was on the balls of her feet, ready to make a run for it if necessary. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut through it with safety scissors.

"No, it fucking isn't!" He stood up abruptly and caught her around the throat. She could feel his hot alcohol laced breath on her cheek and almost gagged. The glass fell to the wooden flooring and smashed as he roughly shoved her up against a wall and angrily muttered seven words. These seven words changed her point of view on life. These seven words made her take her fate into her own hands. These seven words define who she is today.

"You'll die just like your worthless mother." His eyes so full of fury they were almost black. A few loose hairs fell in front of his eyes. Antonin Dolohov. One of Voldemort him self's inner circle of Death Eaters. She thought him a coward, but his reputation preceded him. A master duellist who fought against anyone or anything that got in his way. He was the unofficial master of the spell 'Crucio'. He was the one who killed her mother; he was in one of his violent drunk rages and she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Growing up an only child in a Death Eater's home had certainly not been easy. Her older brothers, two of which had died very recently, were either working for Voldemort or resided in Azkaban. The violence in her home had left its scars both emotionally and physically. The most prominent of these physical scars; a jagged white line running from her top lip, along her nose and ending between her eyebrows. It didn't look too dissimilar from a cleft palate surgery and brought her mouth up into an unattractive sneer.

He tightened his grip around her neck until she couldn't breathe and everything started to blur. Her father's face was reduced to an un-morphed pinkness invading her peripheral vision.A burning desperation for air started in an ache in the bottom of her lungs. She brought her knee up to his groin with some force. He yelled out in frustration and stumbled backwards. Scarlett took in a long merciful breath of oxygen, but she knew this was far from over. He was bent over, clutching his privates and swearing. She kicked him in the face, then again in the stomach. He was on the floor now so she quickly slipped her hand into his pocket and retrieved his wand.

"Crucio!" she yelled aiming the wand at his chest. Scarlett watched him writhe in agony and her eyes widened but she couldn't stop. It was like his wand had a mind of its own. He kept twitching and shrieking for what seemed like hours until finally his bones started to snap and stick out at odd angles. After the top of his spine burst through the back of his neck, he stopped moving. His body slumped to the floor. Scarlett stared for a while and then vomited on the floor.

"Oh god, Dad." She murmured, covering her mouth with a shaking hand. She didn't want to kill him. Just show him a lesson.

Antonin Dolohov was dead.

Scarlett was now in deep shit.

She dropped his wand to the floor and ran upstairs. Slamming the door behind her, she exhaled loudly. What now? She picked up a small leather side bag and grabbing her wand. She cast an undetectable extension charm and ran round her room getting as much stuff as she could. She then went into the bathroom and got some toiletries. Running downstairs, Scarlett didn't need to glance into the sitting room, she was sure he was dead. She felt a strange sickly sweet feeling of relief.

She entered the kitchen and rummaged through the alcohol cupboard until she came across an unopened bottle of Fire Whiskey. She took it and placed it in her bag along with a long but slim meat knife, and some cigarettes. She then walked out of the kitchen, along the hall and out the front door. Scarlett briefly recalled the moment she first learned to ride a broomstick. The cool autumn breeze swept her fringe away from her face. Scarlett managed a weak smile even though her heart was still pounding wildly. She knew she had to make a move before someone found out.

Scarlett glanced along the street and suddenly spotted a group of Snatchers. This is exactly what I need. She sunk into the doorframe and crouched down behind the heavy metal gate.

They strode along confidently, the one towards the front presumably the leader. She only managed to catch a glimpse from behind; he had shoulder length tangled hair in a loose ribbon, with plaid trousers and a leather jacket. She also noticed a tall, burly looking figure towards the back. He had grey braids to shoulder length too. She couldn't tell who he was at first but as she noticed them talking, a snatcher said something that he presumably didn't like. The taller one caught the other in a death grip by the neck and lifted him off the ground. She heard the one at the front yell something, and the taller one dropped him. Greyback. It was unmistakable. Scarlett held her breath and leaned further into towards the door frame. She wondered what on Earth they were doing in the these parts; that was strange to say the least. Dolohov had bought a high rise block of flats and enchanted them to be like a grand palace on the inside. He hated the fanciness that Malfoy always seemed to need to show off to everyone. Putting that aside, this was still a wealthy area and didn't harbour too many runaways.

When they turned the corner, she leapt out from behind the door frame and waved her wand. She had disapparated to Diagon Alley, home to 'The Three Broomsticks'. Hopefully she would be able to get a bed for the night while she sorted her current situation out. The Leaky Cauldron would be far quieter but she wasn't really in the mood to sleep with one eye open.

Not many people milled about as usual, just the odd witch or wizard scurrying around, getting a few essentials. Now that Voldemort was becoming stronger and the Ministry was slowly being taken over, people tended to stay inside where it was safest. She peered around; most of the shops were closed for the night, she hoped the inn wouldn't be. Scarlett walked and walked until finally she arrived outside The Three Broomsticks. As she went inside she realised that there were few people in here too. There were two old men smoking in a corner and chatting, and Rosmerta cleaning dirty glasses. As she moved forward to the bar the old men didn't even glance at her. Scarlett noticed that no one had heard her come in so she cleared her throat. Rosmerta then set the glass and cloth down and turned round. She eyed Scarlett with slight suspicion before covering it up. Scarlett didn't miss this.

"What can I do for you, dear?" She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"I'd like a room for the night." Scarlett replied in her husky tone.

"Certainly." Rosmerta took a key from a hook and led her upstairs. She then unlocked a door to her right and handed the key to Scarlett.

"I know it's not much, but it'll have to do." Rosmerta smiled wearily. "You can pay in the morning, love."

"Cheers." Scarlett closed the door behind her and dumped her bag on the floor. She then went down to flop on the single bed. The mattress was lumpy but that was better than nothing. Her muscles tense and twitchy, but her mind exhausted, she soon fell into a troubled sleep.

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The next morning Scarlett awoke to the bright summer sun streaming through some thin curtains, tired and confused to where she was. She then remembered and sighed in relief. It felt good to not have to worry about how her father would make her life hell. Scarlett ran a hand through her short locks and immediately decided it was time for a wash. She decided to mull her mess over under some running water. She found a towel on the rack by the sink and took a long hot shower in the bathtub. As she was drying off she pondered on the subject of buying some things from nearby shops; they must be open by now. Scarlett wrapped the wet towel around her slim frame and stared at the mirror. The resemblance towards her father was uncanny. They had the same strong, deep set eyes, and the same thin. Although their noses were different (hers being more feminine), their facial layouts were the very similar.

Her father only had two tattoos though; a serial number from Azkaban and the Dark Mark. Scarlett on the other hand was covered in ravens, wolves, snakes and some wobbly alchemic signs she did herself at the age of 15. She also had innumerable piercings in both ears, a small silver ring in the right side of her nose and a stud in her tongue.

Scarlett got dressed, took her bag with her key downstairs and walked outside. The air was completely still. It was like there was an eerie presence watching her from behind the rooftops. She shivered, wrapped a measly green scarf around her neck and wandered off down the street. She glanced in all of the windows but nothing caught her eye. Thanks to her father she was into darker stuff, like big volume books on curses and dark magic. But in every single store and bookshop and library, she asked over and over if they had anything of the sort. They all apologised and bade her a good day, most if not all giving her a wide berth and eyeing her suspiciously. She walked along to a patch of grass behind a building and sat down on a flimsy looking bench that teetered and tilted when she sat on it.

Then it hit her. Knockturn Alley! It was perfect, hardly anyone ever went down there so there was little possibility that she would be recognised, not that they would do anything if they did. She stood up so quickly she knocked the bench she was sitting on over in the process. It clattered to the ground loudly, bringing her out of her thoughts. She disapparated to Knockturn Alley and was not surprised in the slightest. She felt the familiar yet slightly uncomfortable tug behind her navel, then she slammed back down to the ground. Wanted posters were plastered on dirty brick walls and the ones that people had ripped off were strewn across the grimy cobblestones. She tried to avoid looking at them.

Scarlett searched for Borgin and Burkes until she nearly gave up. Lane after narrow lane of boarded up buildings held nothing. It had been years since she had been to Knockturn Alley and she was embarrassed to find she had forgotten nearly all of it. Scarlett was starting to lose her patience. Frustrated and hungry, she sat down on the ground outside a small shop. As she turned around she noticed the CLOSED sign on the door. She sighed and reached into her leather bag for the bottle of Firewhiskey. She then pulled it out, undid the screw cap and took a deep swig. The fiery liquid ran down her throat, warming her body. Scarlett took another swig, and another, and another. She sat there until she had finished a quarter the bottle. By this time the burning in the back of her throat had eased. She stood up and her head started to spin, tottering along, she dropped the bottle. It smashed on the floor, reddish gold liquid running down the street. In her hazy confusion, Scarlett still remembered Borgin and Burkes. So she stumbled along the narrow street, and just as she turned the corner she recognised the looming worn down building jutting out from the other shops. Bingo! Scarlett knocked on the door, not taking in the CLOSED sign. No one came to the door. She knocked again, just a bit sharper. Still no one came.

Scarlett looked down at the ground to find a brick sized rock, so she knelt down to pick it up. She just wasn't strong enough so she sighed. Realising that it was probably still cemented to the floor, she stood up again. Looking upwards Scarlett noticed a drainage pipe leading up to the rooftops. Hhmm. Scarlett walked forward and took hold of the drainage pipe in two hands, she heaved herself up, and in less than 3 minutes she was standing on top. Scarlett looked down and saw an open window a few feet from her, she was just about to smash it with her right foot when she heard a voice from below.

"What the hell do you think you're doing up there?" A gruff voice bellowed. She leant over the edge of the roof to see a very tall and well built man with dark hair. She recognised him to be Runcorn.

And he was a Ministry Official.

Scarlett scrambled around frantically, trying to escape him. To be taken to the Ministry of Magic on account of breaking in was not anything she needed whilst trying to run away. She wondered how long it would take for her dead father to be discovered. She lost her footing and suddenly slipped down the wrong side. Her hands caught the railings and she dangled in mid air. Runcorn stared up at her with a puzzled frown on his features.

"Come down at once!" He yelled at her.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" She shouted over her shoulder. She daren't look down even though she was only two stories up. The alcohol in her system was still every present and the roof under her hands was tilting from side to side. Runcorn removed his wand and pointed it at her feet. 'Incarcerous' he muttered under his breath. Ropes sprung out from his wand and wrapped themselves around her body. She was forced to let go of the railings as she was tugged downwards. Scarlett hit the ground with some force; her side must have bruised purple instantly. All the air left her lungs in one quick burst, she let out a small moan of pain and stared up into his cruel gaze, he held out a hand which she took. He pulled her up but instead of releasing her hand he took her other hand and held them behind her back. He leant down and whispered in her ear.

"Now, I could put you through a lot of pain for trying to break into a private property-"

"It's not a private property!" A hand came down on Scarlett's mouth.

"Sshhh, but if you're willing to give me something in return," his hand crept up towards her chest, "I'll be a little kinder." he whispered, resting his hand on her breast. She struggled so much that her had to hold onto her arms with most of his strength.

"Fuck you." She spat.

"Come on, I'd be doing you a favour. I mean, you're not the best looking girl ever-"

"Over my dead body, you pile of shit!" she hissed back.

"Have it your way." He grumbled. Suddenly the floor came out from underneath her and she realised they were apparating. Scarlett opened her eyes and recognised immediately the green tiles of the Ministry. She bent over and tried to not throw up; along-side apparition was a much more sickening experience for which she was not used to, especially when tipsy. He yanked her upright roughly and shoved her forwards through a thick crowd; lots of people, everywhere, all pushing and shoving to get towards the lifts. Scarlett noticed that everyone gave Runcorn a wide berth, even though she knew he wasn't a Death Eater. They passed an ugly looking statue in the middle of a colossal fountain; a huge stone M was supported by what looked like lots of little people. She guessed them to be muggle-borns. Even though her father and his friends were sickened by them, Scarlett never had a problem with anyone of a muggle-born status or half-blood. When she was friends with Draco when they were little, she sensed that he didn't mind either. But his father soon beat that out of him.

As they were nearing a lift, a shorter man with brown eyes and long blonde hair pulled back into a plait stepped in front of them. Yaxley. His calculating eyes swept over them quickly.

"Hello, Runcorn. Who do you have there?" his eyes met Scarlett's who immediately looked down. He reached out his hand, took her chin and forced her to look at him. She stared back defiantly. He leaned in and studied her face.

"Looks a little like, nah, can't be...could it?" He whispered in his harsh Scottish accent.

"Well, I must be off then. Just going to deliver her to Umbridge for questioning. This one was found trying to break into Borgin and Burkes" Runcorn said.

"Oh, really?" Yaxley looked at Runcorn and then back to Scarlett.

"Yep. Better be off now." He nodded briskly and dragged her off to the lift. People who were about to get on thought the better of it and stepped away. She stared through the slowly down moving grates until they hit four floors up. Runcorn curled his fist around the collar of her jacket and pushed her forward again. They walked along a series of long corridors covered in black tiles, which shone and caught their reflection. Scarlett noticed her small form up against his huge body and deadly expression and decided not to struggle.

His robes swished around his ankles as he came to a halt outside a huge brown door with a swivelling eye. Wonder what kind of fucked up bitch works here. As small voice came from within, it was so faint Scarlett thought she had imagined it for a moment.

"Come in."

Runcorn pushed open the door which swung shut behind them both.

Scarlett straightened up and looked around. She was disgusted to say the least. Pink china plates were dotted around which held mewling kittens. Everything was pink. Everything. And frilly. Including the toad like woman sitting behind a desk which seemed too big for the room. Scarlett couldn't help looking at her and not thinking of a loo roll cover. She repressed the need to gag and stared at her.

"What is your business here, Runcorn?" She simpered.

"I found this one trying to break into Borgin and Burkes. Would you like to send her downstairs for questioning or do you have something other in mind." He tightened his grip on her clothing.

"That won't be necessary thank you. What's your name?"

Scarlett's reply was a mumble "Scarlett," she began, redirecting her gaze to the squat woman.

"How would you like to be a Snatcher?"

Scarlett pondered for a moment. She didn't know many teams of Snatchers and assumed the ones she had seen before were the only ones in the near jurisdiction. This possibly meant working with the infamous werewolf Fenrir Greyback. No thank you.

"It's either that or we send you to Azka-"

"Done." Scarlett replied a little too loudly.

"Alright then, I thought you looked the part." Umbridge gave a fake smile.

"Tie this around her upper arm." She addressed Runcorn, giving him a piece of red cloth. He then took it from her and tied it around a little too tightly. Runcorn pulled her close, turned her around and walked out.

"God, that room gives me the creeps. How 'bout you?" Scarlett turned her head to face him, hoping to ease the tension.

"Shut up, or I'll make you myself." He muttered close to her ear. She shivered slightly and continued walking.

It wasn't long before they were standing in front of an elevator. As it came down Scarlett saw there was only one person there. On closer inspection she realised it was Mulciber. How the fuck did he manage to get into the Ministry undetected? Scarlett was pushed forward. She was now standing in between a Ministry official and a Death Eater who would surely recognise her. Mulciber was a close friend of Dolohov and had seen Scarlett a number of times before.

She glanced up at him when Runcorn asked which level he was going to. He replied and Runcorn agreed. Just before they got out Mulciber looked down at Scarlett. Another couple of seconds and his puzzled features changed to ones of dawned recognition. Scarlett almost ran out of the lift.

They approached the huge fountain in the middle of the Ministry. A group of people were standing next to it, looking bored. As they walked forward (well, Scarlett was pushed by the scruff of her neck), she realised they were the ones she had seen before.

The confident one had a cigarette in his mouth which was quickly removed by Runcorn.

"No smoking, Scabior." Aaaah, so his name was Scabior.

A disgruntled Scabior quickly smiled when he saw Scarlett. His eyes ran over her body. It was not a smile full of warmth, but a malicious and cunning one.

"Hello, beautiful." He said as Scarlett was shoved forward into his arms. When he wouldn't let go of her she stamped on his foot and stepped backwards. Scabior scowled and grunted. Runcorn walked away chuckling.

"Ooh, looks like we got a feisty one 'ere, boys." Scabior grinned.

She glared at him.

"Why are you a snatcher, then?" Greyback stepped forward, pushing Scabior out the way. His eyes moved from her face to her neck. Scarlett swallowed.

"Trying to erm, erm...errr..." She was confused, partly because being so close to Fenrir was scaring the shit out of her, and partly because she was still a little drunk.

Fenrir leaned in towards her and inhaled. Scarlett leaned back. She was surprised he didn't recognise her, but in all fairness the last time Dolohov had invited him to a drinks night with the Dark Lord was probably five years ago. She must have been 14.

"Firewhiskey. Are you drunk?" A smirk hitched at the corner of his mouth.

"No." Scarlett replied slightly slurring. She took another look around. Three other men were sitting on the edge of the fountain.

"Drink this, it'll help you sober up. We can't go about snatching if you can't walk properly." Scabior said, fishing a small vial out of his pocket and handing it to her. She looked at it apprehensively before downing it in one. Suddenly her head cleared and she became aware of her surroundings. Fenrir was looming over her. She took a small step backward.

"Oi, Greyback. Back off, you're scarin' her." Scabior said. His eyes wandered to her scar.

"Nah, he's fine." Scarlett said, returning to her usual self. She tried to act unafraid.

"Well," Scabior started, "I better introduce you to the rest of the gang: I'm Scabior, this is Greyback, I'm sure you've already been acquainted." Greyback winked. "This is Felix, Nero and X-ray." He motioned to the men behind him. They nodded in turn, two of them making roll-ups. She took in their appearances; Felix was tall and skinny, with dark curls, Nero had lighter cropped hair with blue eyes, his face patched with dirt, X-ray had black hair that stuck up with a twitchy demeanour and couldn't sit still. Scarlett gave him a little smile which he returned with a nervous twitch of the mouth.

"I'm the boss, obviously. So it'll be me who gets you if you fuck up. Either me or Greyback."

Greyback licked his lips absentmindedly.

"So, what's our first job?" Scarlett asked.

"How did you get that scar?" Scabior asked ignoring her.

"None of your business." She replied.

"Why are you here?" Greyback stepped towards her.

"I didn't volunteer to be a snatcher if that's what you were wondering. I tried to break into Borgin and Burkes." She looked down at her feet. She noticed she was wearing the same shoes as Scabior.

"Can't imagine why," Greyback rumbled, "It's a bit of a shit hole. Not to mention it's down Knockturn Alley. What were you doing down there?"

"Jesus, do you ever stop talking?" Scarlett replied looking at him. Felix and Nero laughed, but were quickly silenced by his glare.

"Right." Scabior interrupted, "Shall we get going then?"

A/N. Only changed a few things but I hope it's been improved.