The Unfortunates

Okay, this is the one, everyone – first chapter with one of the things a few of you have been waiting forever for... Please review and let me know what you think of this turn of events!

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CHAPTER TEN: THE SNAPE THAT WAS GRANGER


“Dry your eyes now, love; that’s a good girl.”

Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and dared a look at herself in the dress mirror again. It didn’t matter what Lilly Barrette said, she still felt more beaten and dirtier than ever.

“I’ve had a real word with Hailie,” continued Barrette, “and she’s so sorry she let the information slip; she shouldn’t have sent Mr. Malfoy up here. Especially not when you were with someone else! Lucky you’d already finished with him, eh?”

Hermione looked up.

“Is that what Mr. Malfoy told you?”

“Well, he said the man was on his way out when he came... Although none of the girls actually saw him leave... Well, he seems like a man who can slip unnoticed through a crowd, doesn’t he?”

“Indeed he does,” muttered Hermione.

“Now, you’re looking better already,” said Barrette, standing from her chair. “Your lip’s stopped bleeding, that’s good. You’ll soon be up and about again, won’t you?”

“Yes, sure,” said Hermione absentmindedly.

She really didn’t think so. Nor, actually, did she hope so. Somehow, she was even more disgusted with the idea of selling herself now than she’d been before. The hopelessness of the situation was weighing down on her, and now she had bruises and marks from both Malfoys to prove how much her life was worth.

Not much, it would seem.

And on top of everything, Mr. Malfoy had probably scared away Tiberius Granger. He did seem like a wanted man (in more ways that one), and if Hermione suspected correctly he was wanted by the Malfoys; his dramatic flight earlier had indicated as much. Now he probably wouldn’t dare return, out of fear that he might get caught. Why he was wanted, Hermione couldn’t tell, but she felt she was pretty certain that if he was wanted by a Malfoy he was trustworthy.

Anyone who is an enemy of Malfoy’s was an ally of hers.

“Now wrap yourself in this,” finished Barrette, handing Hermione a silk bathrobe. “And don’t take it off until the marks are gone, alright, darling? I know we could try with some glamour, but if it fails during an encounter that wouldn’t be nice now, would it?”

Hermione nodded and wrapped herself in the bathrobe. It covered every one of the visible marks left by Mr. Malfoy, save for the bruised lip, but the swelling on that was already going down, luckily.

“Put on your smile,” said Barrette.

“What for?” asked Hermione.

“Young Mr. Malfoy is waiting for you.”

Hermione’s mouth fell open and she sank down on the bed.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to take any clients until the marks were gone,” she whispered, a knot forming in her stomach. She really, really didn’t want to face Draco Malfoy now – or ever again, for that matter.

“You’re not taking him as a client,” replied Lilly Barrette and made for the door. “He just wants to talk, apparently. Let him, won’t you? He’s an important customer.”

Hermione sighed, gave into the inevitable, and nodded.

Seconds later, Draco Malfoy entered her room. He raised an eyebrow at her rather unimpressive outfit, but didn’t comment it.

“I have a proposition for you, Mira,” he drawled with satisfaction.

“Is that so?” smiled Hermione, forcing the feeling of sickness and nausea back.

“Indeed it is.” He sat down in a chair and leaned slightly forwards, eyeing her with keen interest. “I know you hate working here, Mira – there’s no use lying to me.”

“It’s not so bad,” she replied automatically, averting his gaze.

“Of course it is,” said Malfoy. “Sharing a bed with dozens of unknown men? Don’t tell me you enjoy that. I’m sure you enjoy some of the men you see,” he added, grinning smugly, “but not all of them, certainly.”

Hermione sighed. She really wasn’t in the mood for his never-ending blabber.

“What is your proposition?” she asked wearily.

“Move in to Malfoy Manor.”

It took about ten seconds for what he’d said to actually sink in with Hermione.

Move in to Malfoy Manor? Move in with the Malfoy family? Why, why on earth would Draco suggest such a thing to her?

“W-why?” she said, frowning, not comprehending his intentions at all.

Malfoy got to his feet again and began pacing.

“Let’s face it, you hate it here,” he said. “Father and I are very unsatisfied with a few of our house-elves, and if you move in you could be like their leader, couldn’t you? In charge of the house-hold, so to say... That wouldn’t require a lot of work, you know, you’d only have to make sure the elves do as they’re supposed to and punish them if they misbehave... In return you’ll have none of the ugly regulars of Lilly Barrette’s; only me,” he finished, smiling broadly.

Oh my.

So that’s what he wanted, Hermione realized. He didn’t want to share her with the other men in Lilly Barrette’s; he wanted her as his personal whore, locked up in his Manor for him to have complete control over.

And he hid the entire scheme behind the concept of her being “in charge of the house-elves”. Gods, how ridiculous.

“Er... I can’t say I’m not flattered, Mr. Malfoy,” said Hermione hesitantly, urging her brain on to find a good excuse to decline, “but I work here, you know?”

“That’s the beauty of it; you won’t have to anymore!” said Malfoy enthusiastically, taking her hands in his and pulling her to her feet. “You’ll have a higher status, you know. You won’t be working the streets, and nor will you be working at a brothel... You’d be working with the Malfoy household. That’s about as good as it could get for someone like you!”

Hermione resisted the urge to hit him like she’d done in third year at those words. How dared he incline that that was all she was good for?! She was ten times the person he was! And by the gods, she’d prove it to him... One day she’d prove it. She was certain.

“Well, Mr. Malfoy, honoured as I am –”

He smirked.

“– I just don’t think that’s an appropriate job for me, you know? I don’t know a lot about household –”

“The elves know it all, really; you’re just there to make sure they do it.”

“– and, well, I feel I have better control of things when I work here –”

“You’d get used to the Manor. You’d love it there!”

“– and London is my home, and I’m afraid I’d feel locked up...”

“You wouldn’t, believe me!” Malfoy pressed.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she begged, loudly and desperately, “I just don’t think I can do it. Okay? I don’t think a Manor is the place for me. I need my space, I need – I need to be a bit more in charge. You know? So thank you so much for your offer, but I think am I going to have to decline.”

“But...”

“Sorry, Mr. Malfoy,” she interrupted. “Sorry.”

She released her hands from his and took a few steps back, instinctively dreading another attack from him.

It didn’t come, but he still looked furious.

“Fine,” he said at last through clenched teeth. “Fine. You think you’re happier here? We’ll see about that.”

She frowned at his words, but didn’t get a chance to reply, because he spoke again:

“Perhaps you didn’t think it properly through, Gideon,” he said icily, “but you’ve just turned down a Malfoy. In this world, we’re practically gods. You’re messing with the wrong people, you know. I doubt the Dark Lord would have been very merciful for your ungratefulness...”

“But you will be?” Hermione snapped, before she could help herself.

To her surprise, he laughed.

“I might,” he said.

The sound of the door slamming announced his departure, and Hermione buried her head in her hands, misery taking her over. Her life had just gotten, if possible, even worse.

---

Even Severus was surprised.

It had amazed most of the Rebels, and now he realized it actually amazed him, too, although he wasn’t happy to admit it.

The thing was, he really had no good reason to return to Mira Gideon that following evening. The chances of her getting more information out of Draco Malfoy now were remote, seeing as how he’d already threatened her. The chances of running into either Draco or Lucius were bigger now too, yet that didn’t seem to stop him.

Why was he returning to Lilly Barrette’s?

Why was he saying to the girl, Hailie, “Don’t worry, she will be expecting me”, and why was he making his way up those rickety stairs, back to her room, when he knew in truth there’d be nothing of interest to him anymore?

Oh, but that wasn’t the truth, was it?

He just hadn’t admitted it to himself yet, but he knew it would come. And he dreaded it.

He knocked on her door, and it took Mira almost a minute to answer with a muffled, “Come in”. When he entered, he saw her sitting on the bed, her back turned to him. She was dressed in a silk bathrobe, but for some reason there was nothing sexy and teasing about it tonight. She had her head in her hands, but looked up when he entered.

“Oh,” she said in shock when he stepped into the room and closed the door. “It’s you.”

It was just a statement, but obviously she hadn’t been expecting him.

He resisted the urge to ask if she was alright. Honestly, did he care about that?

Yes, his treacherous mind suddenly whispered.

Shut up, he whispered back.

“I don’t have any news for you, if that’s what you think,” said Mira bitterly, interrupting his mind’s battle with itself. “I doubt I’ll ever have that again.”

“And why is that?” he asked, approaching the bed. She wasn’t looking at him, but gazing at the floor as though lost in thoughts.

“I’ve just been offered to become a part of the furniture at Malfoy Manor,” she muttered. “Or rather, a part of the household, as young Mr. Malfoy called it. And you can guess how happy he was when I declined.”

Severus didn’t really know why she was telling him this – she was a smart girl, not the kind who would share any information unless she had to – but he suspected she was just too upset to care. Something had happened between her and the Malfoy family, and it had just made the whore’s life even more miserable.

“I doubt he was very satisfied,” said Severus, sitting down on the bed.

“Well guessed,” said Mira. “And since Lilly’s denied me to do any more work, all I can do is just sit here and wait for him to come and take his revenge on me for declining his offer. Gods, how wonderful life is.”

Severus sighed. He had clearly come at a bad time.

Still, he owed something to this girl, didn’t he? Not much, but certainly something. If she needed to let out a bit of steam, then he supposed he’d manage listen.

Then suddenly, something she’d said just hit him.

“Why has Barrette denied you to work?” he asked.

She looked up at him then, and he noticed for the first time her lip was swollen.

“Because of that?” he asked, inclining to the lip.

“Not just that,” she muttered. Pulling at the bathrobe by her shoulder, she revealed a large bite mark on her creamy skin. It was cleaned and dry, but nasty nevertheless.

“Let’s just say my body’s covered in stuff like this for the time being,” she whispered, her head falling into her hands again.

Something was burning deep inside of Severus, but he had a hard time defining what it was. It was an uncomfortable, angry feeling, and it had been brought on by the revelation about her state.

What was his treacherous mind up to?

“Malfoy?” he suggested.

“Spot on.”

“Which one?”

“Senior, this time.”

Severus sighed. He knew only too well how brutal Lucius could be – he’d witnessed it thousands of times, and he wished it upon no woman, least of all poor Mira Gideon.

“Well, what can you expect,” he said harshly, “from a man like Lucius Malfoy.”

Mira caught his gaze.

“Do you know him?” she asked bluntly.

“You might say that,” he replied, sighing. “We have known each other since school, but I do not much care for the man. I doubt he cared much for me either, even during the time we spent together when we were young,” he continued silkily, wondering in his quiet mind why on earth he was telling her this, “but I suppose he needed me. Me and my skills as a brilliant brewer,” he added, quietly and darkly, his mind flashing him horrid memories that refreshed the remembrance of how Lucius had used him – they’d been friends, yes, but he had still used him. Gods, how Severus loathed the man for it.

Well, in the end Lucius had lost his brilliant Potions Master, hadn’t he?

In fact, he’d lost both of them: Both Severus and that traitor, Claude Accolade.

Because his mind was preoccupied, remembering his past with Lucius Malfoy, Severus didn’t notice Mira Gideon staring wide-eyed at him, as though she’d just realized something completely unbelievable.

---

He probably hadn’t even intended to say that last part about him being a brilliant brewer, thought Hermione. It had probably just slipped out, along with all the other confessions about his relationship with Lucius Malfoy, but it had nevertheless been revealing enough.

That silky voice, announcing that “Tiberius Granger” had known Lucius Malfoy as a teenager, and that he was a great potions brewer...

Hermione had to fight to gasp at the realization.

She recognized the voice.

She recognized the man’s lean form and elegant, catlike movements, his way of articulating himself and his descriptions of Lucius Malfoy.

She remembered Gavril calling him “Professor”.

Hermione grasped the bed’s edge to steady herself. There, mere inches away from here, sat no Tiberius Granger.

There sat the one and only Severus Snape, greasy git, ex Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and number two on Voldemort’s list of Britain’s Most Wanted Wizards.


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A/N: Ah! It’s pretty, isn’t it? Thanks so much to JessiokaFroka, my beta, for her brilliant work and most encouraging thoughts! And forget whatever I\'ve said before; this is truly the Mother of all Cliffhangers!

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