An Unlikely Savior ~ (Edit) COMPLETED

Chapter 60 ~ Finding Odessa

Not every reporter Disapparated for their offices. Two or three remained in Knockturn Alley, one of them named Dennis Creevey. He was the younger brother of Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor that had been killed during the final battle. His brother had aspirations to be a newspaper photographer. Dennis wanted to be a journalist. He pressed on after his brother’s death taking up photography as well in his memory. He landed a job with the Quibbler, and both wrote and took photos for the periodical. He began to walk into the furthest, darkest region of the alley as if being drawn there.

Against a far wall, he saw several women. The youngest of them looked to be about seventy years old, a badly aged seventy. Dennis blinked, then walked up to the witch. She was thin, and dressed in a thin cloak, with a thin black dress beneath it. Her veiny bare legs were showing and she wore run-over black heels. Dear gods, she had to be cold.

”Blow job for a few knuts? It’s negotiable,” the woman said. Her face was wrinkled and she didn’t have very many teeth. Her attempt to make herself up was rather sad.

”What’s your name?” Dennis asked the woman.

”What would you like it to be? Marge? Katherine? Any name’ll suit me.”

”No, I want to know your name, your real name,” Dennis said.

The old woman’s eyes narrowed.

”Hey! What’s this about? I can’t just stand around talking for free. I need to make some money. A witch has got to eat. Move along!”

Dennis fished into his pocket and pulled out three Galleons. The prostitute’s eyes rounded.

”Here,” Dennis said, offering them to the witch, who stared at them.

”What do you want me to do for that much money? I can’t move like I used to,” she said to him, her eyes full of despair at not being able to earn that much anymore. She hadn’t seen even one full Galleon in ages. “My bones are too frail to take much bouncing.”

”I don’t want sex. I want your story. I want to know how you got here and what your life has been like,” he said softly. “So please, take the money. You look like you need it.”

The old woman blinked down at the money, took it and began to cry. She looked up at Dennis, whose own brown eyes were glistening.

”My name is Abigail,” the witch said, “Abigail Witherson-- and I’ve lived in Knockturn Alley as a whore for the past twenty-five years—I didn’t start out young—and I’ve never been popular, but I’ve made it this far—“

“Tell me more,” Dennis said, writing the information down on his pad.

Severus Snape had pricked the conscience of at least one reporter.

Maybe one was all that was needed.

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Hermione happily Apparated to Snape’s house, anxious to tell Eileen she wouldn’t have to worry about Rita completing that column for at least a year, which was the mandatory prison time for an Animagus failing to register with the Ministry.

She arrived with a crash of thunder, startled to see Eileen standing in front of half of her home. It was as if it had been bisected and part of it taken away. The girl looked at Hermione in surprise.

”Mum? What are you doing here?” she asked as Hermione walked up, her eyes wide. She looked at her daughter.

”Eileen, are you making your house unplottable?” she asked in disbelief.

Eileen wiped her brow. Despite the coldness, she was perspiring.

”Yes,” she said softly.

Hermione admired her handiwork. Everything was in balance, with nice straight lines.

”You’re rather young to be able to do this,” Hermione said to her.

”Dad started teaching me how when I turned nine. By the time I started Hogwarts, I was able to do it,” Eileen explained. “But, why are you here, mum?”

”I wanted to tell you that Rita Skeeter wouldn’t be writing anything more about your father or—or Miss Divine for at least a year, if she still has a job at the Prophet when she gets out.”

”Gets out? Out of where?”

”Azkaban.”

Eileen blinked.

”Rita Skeeter is in Azkaban?” Eileen asked her in disbelief. “Why?”

”It seems someone reported that she was an unregistered Animagus to the Ministry,” Hermione said with a wicked smile.

”You did that?” Eileen asked.

”You better believe I did. I would have done it immediately had I thought of it. I was so upset about what you were going to have to go through, it didn’t – register. Ron was the one who reminded me that I knew her secret. I’d held on to it so long it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. I’m sorry,” Hermione said softly.

”Sorry? There’s no need to be sorry, mum! Thank you!” Eileen said, hugging her suddenly.

Eileen had been worried about what her father would go through. He wouldn’t abandon Odessa, but he could get in a lot of trouble if he went off the deep end. He wasn’t that long on patience with anyone else but her.

”Eileen, it could be that other newspapers will pick up the story now that Rita is gone,” Hermione said softly as Eileen released her.

So, this didn’t necessarily mean it was over. Eileen absorbed the possibility stoically.

”I’d better finish the spell before dad and Odessa come back,” she said tremulously, not wanting reporters to follow them. She turned back and started working again. Suddenly, she was aware of Hermione beside her.

”Two wands are better than one,” her mother said, drawing her wand and rolling up her sleeves.

Eileen smiled at her gratefully.

”Thanks, mum,” she said. “For everything.”

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Snape reappeared in his closed shop and quickly pulled out his wand, flicking it in the air. A small translucent map appeared in front of him. He studied it as a map and words began to form of Muggle London. He saw a pair of footprints walking along. Underneath them were two words.

Odessa Divine.

And she was at the King’s Cross station. Snape frowned.

Just where did she think she was going?

She still owed him money.

No matter.

Wherever she planned on going, she wouldn’t get there if he had anything to say about it.

And Snape had plenty to say about it.

He Disapparated.

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Odessa was looking up at the many destination signs, trying to decide which to choose within her price range, which wasn’t much. She didn’t want to go anyplace too rural. She needed to go to another city. One that offered jobs or at least – customers.

Suddenly she heard the crack of Apparition and whirled. Who would be insane enough to Apparate right in the middle of King’s Cross without a Silencing spell?

She got her answer as an absolutely murderous-looking Snape billowed up to her and arbitrarily snatched her suitcase from off the floor.

”You still owe me money,” he snarled at her.

Odessa’s eyebrows rose. Around her, people were staring at Snape and whispering to each other in amazement at the robed man who had appeared making such a racket. By the look of him, he was pure evil.

”Maybe someone should call the Bobbies,” one man said.

But he didn’t need to say it. About a hundred people were on their cell phones reporting the strange incident, or holding them up and snapping pictures of Snape.

”Severus, you Apparated in front of Muggles,” Odessa breathed. “We’re going to be found out.”

Snape’s black eyes shifted from Odessa and he looked at the crowd of Muggles surrounding them. He looked back at her, then put her suitcase down, drew his wand and grabbed her, pulling her tightly against him.

”Severus, what are you doing?” Odessa hissed.

”Just hold on to me while I take care of this. Spin with me,” he said coldly.

Odessa tightened her grip on him as Snape sneered at the Muggles, who were beginning to back up because of the wand.

”Obliviatia!” Snape roared, spinning in a circle, his wand firing a light blue stream of light that washed over everyone present except for he and Odessa.

Then he fired another spell, one that crackled like lightning as every cell phone within two hundred yards was instantly fried.

He looked down at Odessa, who was looking up at him breathlessly.

”Grab your suitcase,” he hissed at her.

She did so, looking around at all the stunned Muggles, who were staring blankly at nothing in particular.

With another crack of thunder, both witch and wizard disappeared.

The Muggles all began to blink, coming back to themselves.

One man held his cell phone up to his ear, then removed it, poked at it frantically with his index finger, then listened again.

”What the hell happened to my cell phone?” he cried as a number of policemen came running from all directions.

Despite the many phone calls they had received, they couldn’t find one single witness to to the strange event that was supposed to have occurred. They couldn’t even trace a single call back to any functioning cell phones.

They finally wrote it off as mass hallucination.

A wizard indeed.

People were nutters.

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A/N: Short chappie, I know. But thanks for reading.