The Unfortunates

Ah, finally another chapter! Keep bringing me feedback; it keeps me alive...!

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN: KILLENGREEN


Hermione was beyond overwhelmed.

No, forget overwhelmed – her world had actually started turning again.

She was back. Back with Harry, Ginny and Professor Lupin. With Tonks, Snape and all the other Rebels.

She had returned to her own world, in a manner of speaking.

Although learning that her friends knew just as little about Ron and the others as she did wasn’t good news. She had been so certain that once she was reunited with Harry, Ron would be standing there side by side with him, embracing her with just as much joy and disbelief.

But it hadn’t been Harry and Ron – only Harry, and seconds later Ginny and all the others. And Hermione was thrilled to be with them, of course she was. But still not knowing Ron’s fate was a defeat nevertheless.

Of course she had ended up reliving her entire six months spent on her own to Harry, Ginny, Lupin, Snape, Tonks and Bill that same evening. She left out the details – quite a few of them, too – but was openly admitting the troubles she and Mandy had faced both at Mr. Warren’s inn and then later at Lilly Barrette’s, as well as the work she’d had to do.

But for some reason, she told practically nothing about all the troubles that the Malfoy family had brought with them. She only mentioned that Draco had been her customer – something which caused everyone around the table to shiver – and that she’d been able to get some information for Snape from him.

And she could feel Snape eyeing her as she finished her tale. He knew there was more to it than what she’d revealed.

He knew the fact that Malfoy Senior also had taken an interest in her, for one. And he knew the fact that she’d been invited to stay at Malfoy Manor and then received a threat when she’d declined, for another.

But Snape made no comment when Hermione went silent.

Harry had, throughout the evening, been holding her hand across the table, occasionally squeezing it whenever she said something particularly nasty. Now it looked as though he was struggling hard not to cry.

“Don’t worry, though,” said Hermione quickly, squeezing his hand as he’d done for her. “I’m fine. Really. I learned to deal with it.”

“Undoubtedly,” Snape shot in. “She seemed quite capable of taking care of herself when I met her. Had I not learned who she was, I feel confident she would have somehow found her way to us anyway.”

The tone in his voice made Hermione eye him intently, but he showed no emotions whatsoever.

“Well,” said Lupin then, breaking the silence which had threatened to develop, “it has been a very long day, and especially so for Hermione. I suggest we all go to bed, and then we can talk more in the morning.”

“Sounds like a smashing idea,” said Tonks, yawning as she stood from her seat.

The group was slowly making its way out of the room, some of them waving each other good night, until only Harry and Hermione remained seated in the large, intimidating dining hall. Their hands were still entwined.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that,” said Harry quietly.

“Don’t be,” replied Hermione quickly. “It’s nobody’s fault, if not my own. And I managed, remember? And I’m here now.”

He looked up, a faint smile slowly spreading across his face. “That’s right,” he nodded. “You’re here now. I’m – I’m really glad you are, Hermione. It’s been so lonely without – without both you and Ron, you know... I mean, Ginny’s great and so is Lupin, and the others, but it’s just not the same. Nothing is anymore, really.”

His eyes were so filled with melancholy that Hermione pitied him more now than when they’d been filled with tears a few minutes earlier. Poor Harry had already been struggling so much in his life, and still there was the inevitable prophecy hanging over his shoulders.

At some point, it would have to be fulfilled. And either Harry would die, or Voldemort would.

“So,” said Hermione, changing the subject, “who is running the Rebels, then?”

Harry went pale, but apparently tried his best to hide his genuine reaction to the question.

“Er,” he began lightly, “I guess that’s kind of me. I mean, at least according to Lupin, though I think he himself would be better at it than I am... But he says I should be in charge because of – well, for obvious reasons, really.”

“I agree with him,” said Hermione with determination. “You really are a leader type, Harry, the real problem lies in your confidence.”

A smile. “Yeah. I guess so.” He paused. “We should probably get some sleep, you know. Lupin’s right, I bet you’ve had a really long day.”

“Kind of,” she smiled wearily as they stood and made their way back into the entrance hall. “So where am I to sleep?”

“I’m sure you can have the room next to mine,” replied Harry as they ascended the great staircase to the first floor. “If that hadn’t been okay I’m sure he would have said something.”

“He?” Hermione was confused. “Who?”

“Well – Snape, obviously,” replied Harry.

“This is – this is his place?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“No!” Hermione’s gaze fell upon the dark walls and their decorations as she and Harry made their way through a corridor leading to the west wing. “He just said this was where the Rebels stayed. It kind of fits him though, doesn’t it?”

“I bet he was bred here,” smirked Harry. “Killengreen is just so perfect for him. It’s strange though, because he really doesn’t seem to like it at all, despite its obvious similarities to his personality.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laughing. It felt so good just to hear Harry as she knew him, joking and fooling around.

“Weird name,” mused Hermione. “Killengreen. Do you know anything about it?”

“Practically nothing,” replied Harry, “except that it’s Snape’s. I still haven’t seen all of it... It’s really big and easy to get lost in. Besides, I think there are actually parts of it that doesn’t want to be discovered.”

“It certainly seems to kind of have a will of its own,” agreed Hermione as the roof above her creaked nastily.

They ascended another staircase and reached yet another long corridor with several doors on the left hand side. All around them stood the occasional nasty sculpture of a snake or a gargoyle, and the silvery grey carpet which covered the stone floor was as worn and dusty as the one in the entrance hall. The whole of Killengreen seemed somewhat... dead, if such a word could be used on a house.

“Typical Slytherin mansion though,” commented Hermione. “I wonder if he’s just inherited it, or if he ever actually lived here himself before the Rebels gathered.”

“Who knows,” said Harry. “I’ve decided not to ask more than necessary. It’s easier to get along with him that way. The less you bother him, the less horrible he seems to be. Doesn’t do much though, mind you, but every little change is a good one.”

Hermione smiled.

“Here’s my room,” said Harry suddenly, pointing to a door as they walked past it. Two meters away from it they stopped by another one. “And this one’s yours.”

Harry opened the door and let Hermione step in to get the first impression.

It was, as she’d expected, as dark and gloomy as the rest of the house, but a lot larger than predicted. It was big and with a dark green carpet quite like the one in the entrance hall covering most of the stone floor. Another carpet, this one decorated with a serpent, hung largely across one of the walls. Opposite it there was a large four-poster bed with black sheets and, it would seem, enough pillows to drown in.

There was also a small desk and a wardrobe in the room, both in dark wood and undoubtedly of old origin, and in the far end of the room there was a balcony.

“It’s practically identical to mine,” said Harry, “save for the balcony. Your room’s facing the garden, whereas mine is just on the outskirts of it and wouldn’t provide a suitable view, I guess. These are all guestrooms,” he added, as a form of explanation.

“Rather gloomy for a guestroom,” commented Hermione, dropping her bag by the foot of the bed.

“Don’t forget all their guests probably were Slytherins,” said Harry. “If we ever wondered about the old Head of House’s sincerity to it, Killengreen easily answers that question.”

“Undoubtedly,” agreed Hermione, eyeing the serpent carpet on the wall with a grimace. “Do you think he’ll get mad if I take that one down? Can’t sleep with a thing like that staring at me.”

Harry smiled. “I bet you’ll survive it.” He hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room as Hermione finished her inspection.

“Will you be alright?” he asked finally.

She smiled. “I’ll be fine, Harry. You may not believe it, but I’m actually happy. I mean, considering what I came from this is like heaven. It’ll take a while for me to get used to, but I think I’ll survive that as well.”

Harry smiled. Then suddenly, as though he was afraid he’d chicken out of it if he hesitated any longer, he rushed forwards and pulled her into a desperate embrace.

“I’m just so glad you’re here,” he whispered quietly into her hair.

Hermione frowned as she returned the hug, stroking his back gently. In the past six months, Harry had apparently felt very alone. Hermione had been alone too, yes, but everyone deals with it differently. Perhaps Harry’s loneliness had troubled him even more than hers had troubled her... He certainly seemed overwhelmed by her presence now, in any case.

“Don’t worry,” smiled Hermione, pulling away from him. “We’re doing fine, aren’t we? All things considered?”

Harry nodded.

“I’ll leave now,” he said. “Have a good night’s sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning – don’t get lost on the way down,” he added with a grin as he left.

Hermione looked around the room again and couldn’t help but smile to herself. Having revealed herself to Snape didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all, now. Yes, she still felt embarrassed and, to a certain point, humiliated whenever around him, but at least he seemed to feel pretty much as uncomfortable as she, and he wasn’t gloating or talking about their encounters, so in a way things were better than she’d originally dreaded.

She suddenly remembered that Harry had mentioned that the garden was a part of her view. Remembering the scary looking area she’d seen upon arrival she quickly made her way to the balcony and stepped out to look down into the Killengreen garden.

It looked, if possible, even scarier from above. With the darkness of the night, each little bush or hedge looked as though filled with a thousand nasty surprises, and the various plants’ branches were curled and twirled in the weirdest of shapes and forms, as though conscious of their directions. It chilled Hermione to the bone.

She was then suddenly aware of another presence nearby. Glancing around, she found that there was another balcony a little to the right from hers, on the floor above, and from where she was standing she got an easy view to the higher, slightly distanced balcony. The man who stood there, staring at the garden with, it would appear, all the malice he could muster, could be no other than Professor Snape.

His dark, lean form with the robes billowing in the wind looked so intimidating and yet, in a weird way, fascinating, that Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off him. Not until another form stepped out on Snape’s porch and spoke to him, breaking the silence, was she brought out of her trance.

“Severus,” said the other man on Snape’s balcony. “I think we need to talk.”

It was Lupin.

Hermione watched, curious as to what they were to discuss, as the two men retreated back into what Hermione seriously suspected had to be Snape’s private chambers.

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“Joy, it seems, never ceases to overwhelm me at the sight of you barging in on my privacy,” said Severus dryly to the werewolf. “Especially at such late hours, and in my private rooms. Whatever can I do for you?”

“We need to talk,” said Lupin; he was pacing the big room now.

“Yes, you already said that,” said Severus impatiently. “What about, pray tell?”

“Hermione.”

“Ah. What on earth could I possibly have to discuss with you about the girl?”

“Remember our previous talk, Severus?” said Lupin then, stopping his pacing and stepping right up to Severus. He was practically on the verge of pointing a threatening index finger in the taller man’s face. “Back when you first told us all about Mira Gideon – what did I say to you back then?”

“Nothing of much consequence, as I recall it,” replied Severus. “You told me you knew very well how I used to gather my information back during our last fight. And, if I remember correctly, that was all.”

“That was not all,” said Lupin quietly. “You know that was not all.”

“You said nothing more.”

“Maybe not in too many words, no, but you understood perfectly well what message I was trying to bring across. I respect you, Severus –”

At this, Severus snorted.

“– I do, whether you like it or not, but I never much cared for your methods, and back then, when you told us about the – the prostitute,” he seemed to struggle with the word, “you clearly insinuated what you’d done with her.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Your point with this being...?”

“That you told me you’d done stuff like that to Hermione!” bellowed Lupin then, catching Severus by surprise with this sudden act of rage.

“I rarely see you this irrational, Lupin,” he commented, frowning.

“Spare me your stupid comments,” replied Lupin wearily, rubbing his temples. “Look, we’ve done this a lot, right? I still remember – all the girls you questioned, Severus, it was I who had to patch them up again, do you remember?”

“Patch them up?” said Severus in disbelief. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. You didn’t always harm them, but I daresay more times than not you did.”

“I think you fail to see a rather important factor here,” said Severus. “If I at all harmed a woman, it was not a woman who did not deserve harm. I never harmed innocent women.”

“Which brings us to your definition of innocence,” sighed Lupin.

“You and I never agreed on how to fight this war,” said Severus nastily. “Why have you suddenly picked today to redeem me?”

“Because things changed,” replied Lupin angrily. “Things changed the minute I realized you’ve done stuff like you did to the girls back then to Hermione! She’s practically a child, Severus!”

“I can assure you she is anything but that,” said Severus before he could stop himself. “An annoying pain in the arse, undoubtedly, but not a child. Not any more, at least.”

“You really disgust me sometimes,” sighed Lupin. “I screwed up at school, and I’ve always wanted to make that up to you, but this – I just can’t handle this side of you, no matter what I do.”

“No one is asking you to handle it.”

“Well, I do care, don’t I?”

“About who – me or Miss Granger?”

“Both, believe it or not.”

Severus turned away, rubbing his temple. “Lupin, I have had a rather long day. Incredible as it may sound, I too only just today figured out that it in fact was Miss Granger and not some girl named Mira Gideon who fed us information. I should very much like to get some peace and quiet, and arguing with a werewolf about things that cannot be resolved isn’t my idea of rest, pardon me for pointing out the obvious.”

Lupin sighed.

“Please just tell me you didn’t harm Hermione,” he said.

“You and I define harm differently as well, I am afraid.”

“Well, you know my definition, so answer according to that.”

Severus sighed heavily.

If he was to tell Lupin exactly what he’d done to Miss Granger, obviously the wolf would not approve. He was way too decent to understand that despite the absurd circumstances, at that very moment the situation had been reasonable and could not, after all, be undone.

And it wasn’t as if Miss Granger had suffered any permanent damage from the experience – at least not as far as Severus knew. So why upset Lupin further and thus encourage yet another heated argument?

“I did not do Miss Granger any harm, Lupin.”

“I’ll trust you on that then.”

“You do that.”

Severus did not turn as he heard the door slam, but sighed in relief, knowing he knew he would finally get some quiet time on his own.

Without hesitation he returned to the balcony again and lit himself a cigarette; if nothing else, then just to calm his nerves a little. His gaze drifted across the garden below him, involuntarily.

Gods, how he hated it. Killengreen garden was, if possible, even more difficult to deal with than the rest of the house, for obvious reasons.

Severus’ head suddenly snapped up – for a second, it was if he’d seen it again. It could have been his imagination, surely, playing tricks on him... Couldn’t it?

Yet there it was again... The silvery shadow made its presence known by the great octopus tree that stood just meters away from the outer hedges to the right, and it moved its nasty way through the many slithery branches towards the middle of the garden, making the roses look white as it glided over them.

He could hear her whisper now.

“Severus...”

His entire body stiffened.

“Severus...”

He remained as though frozen on his balcony, one hand on the railing and the other grasping the cigarette, as he watched the silver shadow move further into the wilder parts of the garden and disappear amongst the many trees and their leaves there.

And then she had vanished.

Severus let go of a great breath he had barely registered holding and looked around, instinctively.

He then caught sight of another person; she was standing on the balcony of the floor below him, and her gaze was fixed upon him, caught up in a mixture of terror and confusion.

It was that blasted Miss Granger.


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A/N: What do you think? Thanks so much to my brilliant and faithful beta JessiokaFroka! I hope you didn’t find this all too boring, but seeing as how the Snape home is going to play a relevant part I thought I’d properly introduce it.

Oh, and before you ask – yes, Hermione will be questioning his use of her name in the nearest future. There’s just been so much going on she hasn’t really had the time yet. :) Now, keep those reviewings coming!