Revenant

Summary: WIKTT Challenge: The Hollow Man: Severus Snape is sentenced to an archaic ritual that destroys his mind and magic. Now that he is needed once more, can the Golden Trio find a way to bring him back? SS/HG

Disclaimer: : So one of my friends was telling me that the reason that some authors/owners are cracking down on fanfiction is because some fanfic authors have tried to sue the creators/owners. How funny (and horrible) is that? Let me make this a little clearer: I own nothing. I claim nothing. I sue no one.

Revenant:

Chapter Three: Shopping:

For someone who’d grown up without much money, Ginny Weasley knew how to shop. Hermione was tempted to think of it as Power Shopping, and while she had heard of the term, she’s never actually seen it in action before.

The youngest Weasley walked quickly; a witch on a mission. She herded Hermione and Snape through store after store, pausing only to ask Hermione’s opinion on things offered for sale. A no sale was passed up, muggle or wizard. Throughout the whole trip, she kept up a running commentary, talking to Hermione aboutrythrything from the latest in witching fashions to the newly proposed ‘Marriage Bill’ that the Ministry was in the process of reviewing. The girls had giggled and assured themselves that the Ministry would never go through with it.

And while Hermione was glad to be out of the house and spending time with her friend, she had never felt so exhausted in her life. She quickly found herself out of breath and reduced to monosyllables just from the sheer effort of trying to keep up with the quick redhead. The sheer number of stores that Ginny had been willing to explore shocked Hermione. Nothing was held as sacred, and as the cleverly disguised wizarding shops gave way to new age muggle stores, Ginny inspected each place with a zealousness bordering on fanaticism.

The morning had left Hermione’s calves cramping, and her feet aching. Ginny showed no signs of tiring, and Professor Snape was… well… Professor Snape. The gaunt shadow of the potions master followed the two girls, moving quickly to keep up with them. Muggle crowds ignored the three shoppers, but odd groups of wizards and witches would stop and openly stare at Snape as the three made their way down the street. It only got worse when they reached Diagon Ally.

As they passed wizards and witches, Hermione could here them whispering about the “rouge spy,” and how he had “betrayed the only person to ever have given him a chance.” Hermione was sickened by the not-so-quiet words that told others how “he had finally gotten what he deserved.”

Hermione was grateful, more than words could express, to escape from the crowded streets into the relative quiet of Flourish and Blotts. The smell of the books filled the store with a soft muskiness that would forever remind Hermione of warmth and safety. Hermione sighed and could feel the tension draining from her body. Ginny, list of required texts in hand, nodded to Hermione before she wondered over towards the busy store clerk who was helping another student with their supplies. Hermione and Snape quickly disappeared into the stacks of books.

The aisles seemed smaller than Hermione remembered, the books piling and flooding down the shelves towards unsteady stacks that invited the cautious hand and curious eye. Hazy light gave life to dancing dust motes, and lit the leather bindings in golds and rich browns. She ran a hand down the spines of the nearest books, her eyes squinting to read the scrawling titles.

Cures for the Overly Curious. Her hand paused for a moment before recognizing the work as a slightly inferior text that she’d already read back in her Hogwarts days. She hadn’t been impressed with it then, and this third edition was not likely much better.

A Tapestry of Transfigurations. She warily reached for the book before sighing. There was no way she could justify this as a transfiguration problem. Although, she reasoned, there was no saying that the book wouldn’t point her in the right direction.

She pulled the book from the shelf and noted the swirling leather tooling that covered the front of the tome; strange animals disappearing into lines and shapes, only to reappear as stylized objects and forms. She brushed her hand across the cover, feeling the relief and etchings with a sensitivity that made her shiver. She opened the book to a random page, a feeling of deep satisfaction overcoming her as she held the finely made book. The pages were thin and delicate, with coloured inks giving importance to the words, and illustrating the margins with diagrams. She reverently separated the pages, turning each one as though it were as delicate as a moth’s wing. Transfiguration problems common and rare were discussed throughout the book.

She immediately was sucked into the subject of unraveling botched animagnus forms before she finally closed the book and again thoughtfully looked at the tooled leather cover. She reopened the book and scanned the flyleaf. The author’s name, M. McTabby caused Hermione’s laugh to come out as an undignified snort.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the dark form of Snape as he waited right beside her. He was dressed as ordinary as possible, dark slacks and shirt, things that could go unremarked upon in either wizarding or muggle society. A long coat cloaked the thinness of his form, and reassured Hermione somewhat- the coat was enough alike to his sweeping r tha that he almost seemed normal.

She smiled ruefully to herself and tucked the book under her arm. She was here to find something to help with her research, not to laugh at the pen names of her favored teacher. She turned back to her browsing, the quiet figure of Snape at her heels.

By the time Ginny had gotten her packages and tracked her friend down in the dusty stacks, Hermione had found a fair number of books. Snape stood beside her, quietly holding onto a few of the larger grimoires while she perused the books at the top of a shaky ladder. She smiled down at Ginny, her face smudged with ink, and her hair coated in a fine layer of dust. Ginny looked up at her friend and grinned back. This was the Hermione that Ginny had remembered; a young woman who was not so much fearless as she was determined to figure things out. Ginny had worried for her, seeing her alone in that dark house with nothing other than her old books and her old potions master, but seeing her out here, in the midst of a real library, was good.

“You still looking?” Ginny called up to her friend.

“Just about done. I thought I saw something up here.” Hermione looked across the higher shelves one more time before she began to climb down. “I lost it though. I think I could look through this store for years and never see all the books. I wonder how they keep track of everything.”

“What makes you think they do?” Ginny asked.

“Well, knowing what you have for sell is important in running a business.” Hermione stated primly. “Inventory is keystone.”

“Maybe for muggles Hermione, but for wizards, well, it’s different.” Ginny paused. “And especially a book shop. If you need that book Hermione, it’ll find you. Taking inventory is… a bit intrusive, don’t you think?”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. She could see what Ginny was trying to say. There was something about bookstores that really were magical. Something as mundane as ‘inventory’ would not likely be tolerated by the books themselves. Hermione made a mental note to ask Madame Pince how she did it.

“Well then, are you all ready?” Ginny asked.

“Yes, let me just pay for these first, then we can go get lunch.” Hermione began to walk to the front register, her eyes scanning the shelves as she walked slowly through them.

Hermione and Ginny waited in line while three elderly witches finished up their purchases. They had just moved away when Hermione directed Snape to put the pile of books he was carrying onto the counter, where she put hers as well. The clerk pulled the books forward and began to rummage in a ledger as he counted up the sale.

A loud and vicious whisper pierced Hermione’s thoughts as she was digging through her purse. “Well. If you ask me, he’s gotten no less than what he deserves.” Hermione was sickened, not just by the words that made their way to her ears, but by the silence that did nothing to refute the injustice that stood quietly waiting beside her, empty and waiting for directions.

Hermione felt her face grow hot as she risked a peek beneath lowered lashes. The three elderly witches were staring right at her and Snape. “They were all monsters you know. Good for them to finally become some use in society. Not that I’d ever let one into my house, even if the Ministry says they’re fixed now.”

And that had been the theme really. Everywhere they’d gone today, every wizarding section in London, there were people who had to say things to that effect. While there had been the silences that Hermione couldn’t interpret, there had been far more of the hushed whispers; vindictive and vicious. Little daggers and barbs aimed at a man who was found guilty without a trial, who was executed without stay. The whispers were nothing new, but when Hermione would turn to face them, the whisperers would disappear into the crowds, always leaving Hermione without target, without the chance to argue or defend.

Hermione turned to face the three witches that stood off to the side, clustered together like ugly birds of prey. She felt her anger rise and felt her face begin to burn hot with rage. “You…” Her words were clipped short. “You have no idea... This is a travesty of every justice-“

Her words choked her, but she forced herself to continue. “How can you stand there and be so sure that this man was so horrible and evil that he ‘deserved’ to have his mind and his will stripped from him? How can you call that a justice and not a rape? How can you condone a government that-“

“Hermione!” Ginny squeaked, aghast. The shop keeper was watching Hermione in horror, his hands frozen above his ledger.

“-would not only legalize such a horrible punishment, but then profit by it as a form of cheap slavery, and then call it just and fitting? How can you say that they’re ‘fixed’ now?” Hermione ran out of words and felt herself panting for breath while the three witches looked on, unmoved and unimpressed.

The first witch, the vocal one, slowly looked Hermione up and down, and then glancing at Snape and the pile of books he had so recently carried. She sniffed loudly before saying in an airily way, “You’re a fine one to talk.”

The words were a slap in the face to Hermione. Her teeth ground down and she took a deep breath. She felt the calming touch of her friend as Ginny laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.

Another of the older women leaned over to whisper something soft and malicious to the two other women, and then all three of the women laughed before pushing their way out of the small shop.

“Hey,” said Ginny with a gentle tug to her friend’s shoulder. “Look, it’s not important what those cows think-“

“It is important Ginny.” Hermione said, bitter with frustration. “It’s the way people think, and as long at they continue to think like that, there’ll be no end of petty minded dictators and evil Voldemorts. They’ll just be wearing different robes, with different symbols; but they’ll still call themselves righteous while they perpetuate atrocities. They condone these things without even questioning them, or what they do to themselves when they condone them.”

“Not everyone thinks that way Hermione.” Ginny stated, pulling her friend back to the counter and the stunned clerk. “Not everyone agrees with what the Ministry has become.”

“But enough of them do Ginny.” Hermione felt her rage settle, neither fading away nor deepening, and turned back to the stunned store clerk. With a start, the clerk began to refigure the cost of purchase.

…

Ginny quietly thanked the clerk after he was done, and collecting Hermione and Snape, she bustled them back into the diffused sunlight outside. They had no sooner stepped out into the crowded street before Hermione once again found herself the focus of unwanted attention. Across the street, separated by only a shifting crowd, Hermione found herself looking into the eyes of Draco Malfoy. She felt her heart jump into her throat as his pale gaze locked on her, and she felt her body shudder.

Draco’s sneer froze on his face as he caught sight of Snape as the older man followed Hermione and Ginny from the store. Pain blossomed across his face; shock and horror freezing his gaze and his body. Hermione could see his body fail him as he stopped suddenly; his feet refusing to move him forward and his voice stolen by the apparition.

Ginny’s eyes followed Hermione’s gaze, and with a muffled “shite” she grabbed a hold of Snape in one hand and Hermione in the other, and with a surprising amount of strength, threw the three of them into the quick moving crowd. Hermione thought she heard a muffled cry from behind her, a sound that was a cross between a command and utter despair.

Ginny dragged the two with her, and Hermione marveled at the strength in the grip of the diminutive red head. Ginny for her part, marveled at how easy it was to direct her older friend and her ex-professor.

Several streets later, Ginny released her grip on the two. “So.” She said with forced cheerfulness. “How about muggle dining then?”

*

They settled into a shadowed booth and a nameless waitress took their orders. Ginny and Hermione giggled over the menu, the redheaded witch giggling hardest at the descriptions that Hermione had for each type of food offered at the muggle diner. Finally the food came, steaming and greasy, and Hermione helped Snape get situated enough to where he could eat on his own. As he began to mechanically eat at his meal, Ginny observed him critically.

“So… he’s awfully thin,” she remarked, surreptitiously wiping her hand on her napkin. She imagined she could still feel the thin bones in his arm, grinding beneath her grip.

Hermione nodded absently before turning back to her friend. “Yes, he is. He’d lost a lot of weight when I first… when I first had gotten custody of him. He’s finally started to gain some of it back though. Finally.”

Ginny looked confused for a moment before asking, “How did you know he had lweigweight? I mean, you can’t tell with all the layers he wears, can you?”

“I… erm… I had to make sure that all his injuries had healed properly.” At Ginny’s blank look, Hermione told her friend how his wounds had been mistreated while he had been in captivity.

Ginny’s look of confusion quickly turned to horror, then compassion as she looked at the gaunt man sitting across from her.

They ate slowly, savoring the time together without having to deal with the rush of pedestrians shopping and mumbling insults and slurs at Snape. Sitting there at the tiny, hole-in-the-wall diner, Hermione and Ginny were able to pretend they were just two more young women, catching up on their friendship.

They talked about all sorts of things, from Harry and Ron’s mysterious work up North, to the staggering stupidity of the Ministry’s latest blunders. Throughout it all, Snape remained silent, nursing a cup of lukewarm tea.

After lunch, Hermione offered to walk Ginny back to the Leaky Cauldron where she could floo home. They were passing through SoHo when Ginny asked, disgusted, “How many coffee shops does one street need, anyway?”

Hermione was about to answer when she saw a small sign that read “Book Shoppe.” She pointed it out to her friend, and the three of them veered across the street. Ginny, never one to say no when on the elusive hunt for a sale, led the way.

The sign on the door was flipped so that it read ‘closed,t tht the door easily opened under Ginny’s hand. As she pushed forward, she was assaulted by the unpleasant smell of moldering books and rotting papers. Two men, immaculately dressed, looked up as the three entered the store.

“Yes? Can I help you?” glowered the older man in their direction.

Ginny smiled brightly. “We’re just looking around, thanks.”

The older man glared at her for a moment before turning back to a whispered conversation he was having with his friend. Hermione looked over at Ginny who grinned and waved a limp wrist in Hermione’s direction.

Hermione looked at the two men, and stifled a smile. She turned back to the books, and immediately found herself facing the largest collection of rare books she’d ever seen. While the smell of the store may have been unpleasant and offensive, the books themselves were in pristine condition. One book in particular caught her eye.

The Slaughman Rituals was a thin manuscript bound in dark crimson leather. The vellum of the manuscript was thin, and countless years of handling had stained the edges of the leafs, giving the book a used and ancient feel that even it’s glossy leather exterior did nothing to dispel. The frailty of the paper was offset by the dark and nefarious words that scrawled across the pages, telling stories of body theft and stolen mentalities.

As she read through the text, Hermione felt a cold energy crawl down her spine –an unclean presence that she could feel coiling all around her. She gasped and looked up, her eyes wide in startlement, and met the calm gaze of Severus Snape. Feeling foolish that a book could frighten her so, she dropped his gaze and turned her attention back to the book in her hands, not seeing the shopkeeper break off his conversation with the other man.

“That is not for sale.” He said, quietly slipping up to her. He closely looked Snape up and down, and the frown of displeasure deepened on his face.

Hermione looked up from the book in surprise. “I’m sorry?” she asked.

“This book,” he said, deftly plucking the manuscript from her hands, “is not for sale.”

Hermione, in shock from the man’s rudeness, could do no more than make a weak and inarticulate sound as he moved to walk away from her. The younger man, still standing over by the counter, raised an eyebrow at her as he slowly began to smile.

The older man gently placed the book into a drawer by the register, and turned back to her. “As a matter of fact, we’re actually closed right now.”

Hermione glared at him, and he moved forward to shoo her away from the books and towards the door. “I must ask you to please leave.”

Hermione shot a quick look of shared indignation at her friend, but Ginny was nowhere to be seen. Hermione gave a loud “hmph” and pushed her way through the door, the bell on the top ringing gently. Behind her, she heard the smooth voice of the younger man as he laughed.

Moments later, Ginny came darting out the door and raced over to where Hermione and Snape were stalking down the street.

“I just. I can’t. This has not been a good day.” Hermione snapped.

“I don’t know,” Ginny said with a sharp grin. “It wasn’t a complete loss was it? I mean, you got to spend some time with your best friend and even picked up a few books, right? Besides, the fresh air is good for you, or so I hear…”

Hermione glared at her, and snorted.

“Well,” continued G, “t, “two out of three isn’t so bad.” She nudged Hermione in the arm hard. Hermione looked down and saw the manuscript, tightly held between their bodies.

“Ginny!” her voice rose sharply on the word “How’d you…”

“Nicked it when he was pushing you out. The other man saw me, but he just laughed.” Ginny grinned wickedly again. “See? Nothing like some petty larceny to make the day a success!”

Hermione laughed as she took the book from her friend and hugged her. “You’re horrible!” she exclaimed.

“I know it.” Ginny said with satisfaction as she twined her arm into Hermione’s. She looked past her friend and smiled at the dark form of the potion master as they walked towards The Leaky Cauldron.

*

[A/N:
omg, I’m only at chapter three in the writings, whereas my notes go on forever.

Playmara, you were the serious kick in my ass.

As ever, thanks to my beta who really tried to talk me into using “past tense” more than I am. Was. Whatever. I like the way it reads. I can be a bit headstrong I suppose. In a friendly way. ;)

M. McTabby is from some other fanfic I think. I’m not sure. I don’t think I’m clever enough to have come up with it, but then again, you never know. If you know where it came from, let me know, I’d like to give a proper acknowledgment to whomever I thieved it from.

Aziraphale (the unpleasant man), Crowley (the laughing man), and the Book Shoppe in SoHo nicked from Pratchett and Gaiman’s Good Omens.

Also, there have been a lot of answers to this challenge. I think it’s a great one, but I’m afraid that I can’t read any of the other challenge responses until I’m done, or I know I’ll rip someone off. It was hard enough not ripping Nome off, her stuff is wonderful. (She was actually the one that got me started on this challenge after I waited and waited for her to continue Forsaken...) Go. Read. Enjoy.

Forsaken, by Nome is at http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1560712

Dead inside by Hel is at http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/story.php?no=18580

A Winter’s Fairy Tale by Run Wild is at http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1705547

Mephistopheles by TheGreyLady is at
http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/story.php?no=18409

Alright. Until next posting...]