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The Unfortunates

By: Grill
folder Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 32
Views: 37,701
Reviews: 349
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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The Story of Mohrag and Avery

Here we are! Another chapter; though a bit late, it\'s longer! If you find the story of Mohrag to be dull, E-mail me and I\'ll send you the short version. It\'s vital to my development of Severus\'s psyche, however. :)

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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: THE STORY OF MOHRAG AND AVERY


He had ordered for a pot of tea. As it was brought there by one of the old Snape house elves, Severus poured a cup for her, then for himself, all in complete silence. He looked more burdened than ever; Hermione almost considered letting him off the hook, but she found she had to be cruel at this point– she had to know who Mohrag Higsley was.

The dark, complex man she had once known as Tiberius Granger sat down in a winged armchair, his gaze drifting off into the hearth of his study. Several minutes ticked by during which none of them spoke. Severus was strangely clutching his cup of tea, but he never drank from it.

He closed his eyes for a moment then, almost as though in pain, before finally speaking.

“Mohrag was... she went to school with me,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse and weak. He appeared far away, as though he was mentally going back in time, back to the days when Mohrag Higsley was alive. “Gods,” he exclaimed quietly, “it is difficult to know where to start.”

“Just... just say what comes naturally,” suggested Hermione hesitantly.

He gave a small snort. “I suppose... I cannot tell you about Mohrag without first telling you about Claud.”

“Claud– you mean Claud Avery?”

“Yes.”

“He’s the Death Eater who’s believed to be dead, right?” She wanted to make sure she had all the facts straight.

“Precisely. Only you discovered him during your stay at Malfoy Manor,” said Severus dryly. “So apparently he is still alive, brewing for Lucius in their dungeon.”

“What’s Avery got to do with Mohrag Higsley?”

Severus cast her an impatient glare.

“Sorry,” said Hermione. “I’ll– I’ll let you talk.”

“Claud Avery was a schoolmate of mine,” said Severus finally, his voice steadier now. He took a first sip from his teacup. “We were both in Slytherin, in the same year. We were quite close friends, especially so after Lucius quit.”

“But,” said Hermione; she couldn’t help herself, “I’ve heard you hardly had any friends in school. Lucius Malfoy was one, but he was in the seventh when you were in the first... I never heard you had close friends.”

“That’s true,” said Severus. “And yet, not quite true. I had friends – two, in fact. Claud Avery and...”

“... Mohrag Higsley.”

“Precisely. But they both stopped being my friends in the fourth year.”

“Why?”

“They fell in love.”

Hermione had no immediate answer to this. The statement was so bitter, so full of regret and pain, she was completely at a loss on what to say. She found it would be better not to speak, and rather wait for Severus to explain as he felt proper.

“Claud was a Slytherin, but he never got on well with Lucius,” Severus said then, his gaze absent again as he visited his past. “Nor the Lestranges, for that matter. If it wasn’t for me, Claud might never have become a Death Eater.”

Strangely enough, that statement wasn’t as remorseful as many others had been so far. It was bitter, but not laden with guilt, as one could have expected. Was Severus proud of having helped Avery become a Death Eater?

“I recommended him,” continued Severus. “You see, even though Lucius quit school, he and I kept in touch. Our friendship was rather close, despite the age difference. We corresponded, and he taught me all about what the world could be like. He told me of the rising of a new power. He said he wanted me as a part of the team; the team that would yield this new power. It all sounds ridiculous to me now, but at age twelve you can only imagine how tempting it was.”

Hermione looked to the floor. Had it really been that easy to recruit Severus? Had he been such a malicious kid, that just sweet promises of a new world was all it had taken to convince him to join the Death Eaters? It was not a comforting thought.

“Anyway,” continued Severus, “like I said, at the time Claud and I were friends, and I did as faithful friends do, so I told Lucius about him. I explained he would be worthy to join. Lucius didn’t think much of it at the time, and he never contacted Claud while he and I were still speaking. He must have at some point later though, as Claud did become one of us.”

Hermione realized at this point she was getting more than she’d bargained for; not only was Severus telling the story of Mohrag Higsley, he was also letting her see peaks of his past; of his youth; of his... joining the Death Eaters.

“Were you in love with Mohrag?” asked Hermione, her voice a mere whisper.

Severus didn’t reply at once. When he did, his voice was hoarse yet again, and so bitter and shameful it was agony to hear.

“Yes.”

Yet again there was nothing to say.

“She was in Slytherin, like me,” said Severus, returning to his past, “though she never wanted to be. I recall her Sorting; it was as though she was fiercely arguing with the Hat. The Higsleys have always been in Slytherin, at least so I have heard, and I suppose Mohrag belonged there, just like those before her. She did not seem to wish it, though.” He became thoughtful at this point, and it took a while before he started talking again.

“Mohrag was a terrible witch. She was like the female equivalent of Longbottom.”

Hermione almost laughed. “Why would you want to befriend someone like that? I thought you hated incompetence.”

“I do. Did then, too. But at first, I didn’t befriend Mohrag – I merely assisted her. You see, even at such a young age I craved a certain feeling of power. I inherited that from my Father, I suspect,” he added wryly. “I controlled Mohrag by helping her. I felt superior. I could mock her, take advantage of her– money, food, you know – all in exchange for a little assistance in class.”

“But then you fell in love?”

He smiled bitterly. “More or less. She kissed me.”

“Then she must have been in love with you too!”

“Hardly. She did it to annoy Black.”

“Sirius? But how...?”

“He was a Gryffindor, after all, and we hated each other,” said Severus, almost grinning now. “As he hexed me whenever possible, it was only natural that friends of mine – Claud and Mohrag – disliked him as I did. Black spent his days trying to point out as many flaws about me as possible, one of them being of course that I was too ugly ever to get a girl.”

Hermione felt a twinge in the pit of her stomach at these words; it hurt so to hear Severus speak of his own appearance like that – like he genuinely believed he was this ugly, and had learned to live with the fact.

“This was in the third,” he continued. “We were in Hogsmeade. Black had suggested Mohrag only spent time with me to get closer to Claud. Or perhaps it was Lucius; I do not recall it now. In any case, it drove Mohrag furious, him speaking down at me like that. She was quite a feisty young girl, you see.”

He almost smiled, remembering her. Hermione found it hard to imagine the Mohrag Higsley she’d seen in the Killengreen garden, beaten and hopeless and desperate, being a cheerful, feisty young girl who’d once begged Severus every evening to scan her essays for faults and misspellings.

“Mohrag was rather impulsive. She just wanted to prove Black wrong, so she kissed me. To her it was nothing but a friendly gesture to help bring Black down to earth, but to me...” He went silent again.

Hermione smiled sadly. “I understand,” she said carefully. “You don’t have to explain what you felt.”

Severus gave a wry smile. “I told her in the end. What I felt. I was a stupid kid, fourteen years old... It was not uncommon. But then summer holiday came, and we started in the fourth; time just flew by, and I – of course she wanted no romantic relationship with me. We remained friends.”

“Until...” said Hermione quietly.

He nodded. “Claud was my friend. At that point I felt betrayed, as was only natural. They started going out. Still they both tried to remain friends with me, but I would not have it. I was furious; I felt as though the only thing I deserved in life had been taken away from me. Stupid, teenage infatuations...” He narrowed his eyes at the hearth, apparently quite angry with himself. “My craving for power grew only bigger after that. And at this point what you have heard is true; I had no friends. Not in school, at least – Lucius still kept in touch. And his words were even more tempting now. I wish I had some noble excuse, Hermione; some respectable cause which my joining the Death Eaters could help serve. There was none, save my craving for power. My desire to be in control; to be able to get my revenge on anyone who crossed me. Black, Potter... Mohrag, Claud... my father.”

“Your father?” said Hermione, slightly surprised.

“Oh yes. Of course he played a big part, as fathers always do in such pathetic cases. He was an alcoholic, of course, and abusive. Not so much of me, but of my mother.”

Severus stopped talking abruptly; it was as though his voice had cracked and no words would come out. His right hand was grasping the armchair, turning his knuckles white. In his left hand sat the teacup, forgotten.

“They... We lived here,” he said at last, his voice more tattered than ever. He was struggling to appear unaffected, but it was all too clear to Hermione how painful these memories were to him. “At Killengreen. Amazing that Father never wasted all we had on alcohol, really... He was... horrible to my mother. And she always forgave him. Pitied him, I expect. Sober, he would swear never to do anything like it again. Hours later, the bottle was empty and he would be...” His voice cracked again, and a muscle tightened in his neck.

“Don’t worry,” said Hermione hastily, fighting the urge to rise from her seat and comfort him. He needed his space; she understood that. “I understand what he was like. You don’t have to speak of it.”

“When I was sixteen,” said Severus, apparently forcing himself to go on, forcing himself to become the same, old ice cold Professor Snape, “at Christmas, I went home. I wanted to surprise them with my visit, as I usually preferred to stay at the school over the holidays. My urge to see Mother was just too great this time,” he added with a snort, as though something like wanting to see your mother was simply beyond pathetic. “I arrived late. The house was so quiet, I realized instantly that something was wrong. He’d... I found her in their bedroom. She looked like... Well, you have seen Mohrag now, you know what they look like,” he concluded harshly. “Unconscious. Father had fallen asleep over the desk in his study. Had her blood all over himself. The sight was disgusting.”

It tightened further still in Hermione’s stomach.

“I had my mother brought to St. Mungo’s that night,” sighed Severus. “They said she would be alright. I returned to school. Not until half through January did I get any news of her condition.”

Hermione held her breath.

“She was dead. Too great a damage caused by my Father. Even if they could have saved her, she would have been no more than a living, breathing doll– so much harm had he bestowed upon her; her mind would not even be functioning any more.

“Father was arrested. Sentenced to eleven months. It was not enough. Not by far.”

In addition to her stomach aching, Hermione felt a lump forming in her throat. The entire story made her sick. Severus\' fury, his untameable hatred towards his father and those who had crossed him... And yet, the harshness of his voice, the feeling of indifference... What was this man? He was as though superior to common human thought; his life was nothing but a tragedy, yet all that was clear in his mind was power and revenge. No sadness. Hermione couldn’t even imagine Severus had ever once cried about it. Never wept a tear, surely.

“Lucius was willing to help. The Death Eaters were willing to help. Proper revenge was executed on my Father. Upon leaving Azkaban, he lived for a total of seventeen minutes.”

Hermione didn’t ask who had killed the man; she didn’t dare.

“What happened to Mohrag and Avery?” she asked instead, hesitantly.

“They split up. Few days after I had witnessed Claud receiving the Mark. As I had always suspected, Mohrag did not agree with the Slytherin way. And the thought of being a Death Eater’s girlfriend was apparently out of the question.”

“It can’t have been particularly safe at that time to turn down a Death Eater?” said Hermione; it was all slowly becoming clear to her.

“Indeed not,” nodded Severus gravely. “Claud came to me at the end of our seventh year. He spoke of how she had betrayed and failed us both, and how she should not be allowed to get away with such a crime against the servants of the Dark Lord. I did not like the idea of punishing her, and wanted no part in it. I told Claud to leave well enough alone.”

“I doubt he did,” said Hermione quietly.

Severus nodded. “Claud was never one to have his pride stamped on without wanting revenge. Bad things happen to Death Eaters who cannot control their desires. I have told you once already how Death Eaters are too proud and possessive for their own good. Claud was no exception. He wanted his revenge on Mohrag, but the Dark Lord would not hear of it. There was little disagreement in the ranks; no one seemed to think it right to go after one of the Higsley clan just because Claud felt humiliated.”

“But he did anyway, didn’t he?” said Hermione. “You told me Avery saw what was coming to him but did nothing to stop it. He knew he would be punished if he disobeyed Voldemort, but he did so anyway...”

“You are correct, of course,” whispered Severus, closing his eyes for a second. “He did so anyway. He went after Mohrag. Perhaps believing as I did, that being a Death Eater made you immune; that nothing could harm you, no matter the threats you received.”

“But if Claud Avery murdered her, why is she haunting Killengreen garden?”

“Because alas, that is where she was murdered.”

Here? But why – what –”

“I was a fully qualified Death Eater at the time, Hermione,” snapped Severus, “and as the estate was legally mine, why would I not lend it to the cause? Many a Death Eater gathering happened within these walls in the seventies. And the murder of Mohrag Higsley happened in the garden. On our graduation night, in fact.”

“Why didn’t you stop it?” whispered Hermione. “You loved her...”

“I wasn’t present to do so,” said Severus quietly. “I was in London. I got back to find her bloodied body on the stone tiles. I immediately contacted Claud, who proudly confirmed it was him and two others who had... abused her, murdered her. The Dark Lord was informed, and Lucius was assigned to rid us of Claud Avery. There was no room in the Death Eaters for servants who disobeyed orders.”

Severus went quiet again, and save for the crackling of the fireplace, silence was all that could be heard.

A thousand questions still spun around in Hermione’s head. She could only imagine the guilt Severus was feeling. Although Mohrag Higsley’s death couldn’t be blamed on him, surely it could have been avoided if he’d acted differently. And being here, back at Killengreen, was a constant reminder of his horrid past. As was Mohrag’s phantom.

“The Higsleys sent their son to Beauxbatons,” said Severus finally. “I suspect they never did like Hogwarts.

“I met James Higsley properly for the first time at her funeral. Thirteen years old. He did not cry.” A small pause. “He spoke to me. He and Mohrag had been close, apparently, and she had told her brother all about me. Our friendship. The promises.”

“Promises?” said Hermione.

“One evening’s weakness on my behalf,” said Severus, shrugging. “After she ended things with Claud, she came to me and told me she was afraid. For a brief second, the old, awkward teenager was back, hoping he still had a chance with the girl he’d fallen for all those years ago. I promised Mohrag I would look after her. I promised I would not let Claud harm her, should it come to that. Then she thanked me, left, and I became myself again. And I did not keep my promises.”

“She’s told Jim Higsley about them?” asked Hermione.

“Evidently. And because I had not been true to my word, Higsley apparently saw it fit to blame me for his sister’s death. The case was never solved by the Ministry; although her body was found in my garden there was no evidence I had done it. Higsley was certain, though. He still believes it was me.”

“That’s why he’s so bitter,” whispered Hermione. “So angry.”

Severus smiled wryly yet again. “Little can be done about it now. But he will not let the past go.”

“Nor will you,” she whispered. “Was Mohrag’s death the reason why you chose to leave the Death Eaters?”

“I will not deny it played a big part in my decision,” he replied. “But no, I did not turn because of her death. You must remember, I did not seek out Dumbledore out until the spring of 1981 – three years after Mohrag’s death.”

“Then what made you turn?”

“It was not one concrete thing. A combination of many, I suspect. I grew older, wiser, and I think my experiences with life gradually taught me that the power I sought did, in the end, not give me what I wanted, despite my ability to yield it. I had the power, but was still miserable. I found I had run out of reasons for fighting the Dark Lord’s war. I wanted to do as Mohrag and my Mother would have told me to do – I craved reconciliation, as pathetic as that may sound.”

“It doesn’t sound pathetic,” said Hermione quietly.

They were silent for some time. Severus seemed to have returned to the present, as he warned up the tea again and poured himself a cup, gazing into the fire again with a look of contemplation.

“Tiberius,” said Hermione finally. “That was the name of your father, wasn’t it?”

He took another sip from his cup before replying. “It was.”

“I’m so sorry, Severus.”

“My life is hardly an excuse for my actions.”

“No, but it explains a lot, doesn’t it...”

“I would rather you did not speak of this to anyone. Not even Jim Higsley.”

“Of course I won’t.”

Still keeping his distance, both physically and emotionally, he said, “Thank you.”

---

His conscience was eating away at him again.

He was lying, just as he had done so many times before. Or rather, it wasn’t lies, not really... But he was most certainly holding back vital information. Information which, if told, would make Hermione look at things a little differently. Hence, he had chosen not to tell her.

This was also the reason why he’d told her not to discuss it with Higsley. The Scotsman would undoubtedly be able to tell Hermione a few facts he’d neglected to speak of, and then he’d lose her. He just couldn’t bear the thought. Alright, so it was all wrong to lie to a woman you held dear – he wasn’t supposed to screw it up this time – but the last time he’d been honest, well... It hadn’t worked out well, had it? This time, he was older, wiser, more calculating. This time he would have the situation in the palm of his hand. This time, he’d get the woman he craved.

Not since Mohrag had he felt for a woman what he felt for Hermione. Wasn’t that good enough an excuse to withhold certain facts, if said facts could destroy their wonderful relationship? Yes, Severus definitely thought so.

He finished his cup and was about to speak again when the door to his study flew open. In its wake stood Tonks, her hands grasping a piece of parchment.

“Hermione!” she beamed. “There you are– you’ve got to see this!”

Hermione stood from her seat and received the parchment. Her eyes widened as she read it, and without a word she passed it on to Severus, who took it and read with a frown:

WANTED – MIRA JAYA GIDEON

House of Lilly Barrette’s prostitute Mira Jaya Gideon, a fugitive and a thief, fled from her employment home Malfoy Manor with vital information and is under all circumstances to be arrested or reported if sighted.

Miss Gideon is described as average height, with long, reddish blond hair and blue eyes. She is, as far as reports can tell, unarmed and on the loose in London town. Her return to Malfoy Manor is essential.

Any information which results in the capture of this fugitive will be greatly rewarded.

Report by owl to Malfoy Manor or to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Please note that fugitive is to be captured alive and unharmed.


J. Carrows (sign.)
Head of Magical Law Enforcement Squad
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Ministry of Magic



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A/N: Right! Sorry if some of you were disappointed, felt it was too long, found it to be not at all original or suiting - it was planned all from the start, take comfort in that! I did promise some of Mohrag\'s past would be explained in this chapter, but obviously not all of it... That\'s still to come! Have patience though; now you know more or less who she is - Severus hasn\'t lied, technically speaking.

And I must, as always, thank my brilliant beta JessiokaFroka and all the readers and reviewers! Couldn\'t go on without you!
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