All Breakages Must be Paid for | By : Lucreace Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 3384 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I make no money from these words |
The world had changed. Somewhere along the way, something had gone horribly wrong. Huddling into his tatty, black coat, Severus hurried along the cracked, broken road, desperately hoping to find somewhere safe before nightfall. Something to eat wouldn’t be too bad either, though most places had been torn apart for food by looters now. There wasn’t much of anything left from before. Muggle or otherwise. Footsore, he continued weaving his way down what was the A1 road heading towards London. Currently, he was about three miles from Pontefract so had a rather large walk ahead of him.
It wouldn’t have been so bad but the cars that had been abandoned littered the road, the grass was spreading rapidly over the tarmac, now that there was no-one to tend it, nature was taking over once more. Icy wind bit his exposed flesh as he walked into it. No matter how much he pulled his coat around him or hunched over, it always seemed to find a way in to torment him. Even if he dug his ragged cloak from his bag, he wouldn’t be warm, this was the sort of cold that seeped into your bones and didn’t let go.
The weak sun, having begun its descent hours before, now lingered on the horizon, rapidly bringing darkness to the forlorn countryside. Looking around, Severus turned in the direction of the slip-road and hoped to find somewhere to stay for the night. Days were dangerous enough, nights were deadly. As he followed the road, he saw two buildings with the potential for overnight lodgings. One was a roadside pub; the other had once been a budget hotel. He opted for the pub. It had less floors and was more likely to be deserted. He’d been alone long enough to know that other people were just as dangerous as what else was out there.
Silently, he circled the building. Everything about it told him it was unoccupied. Still, he kept his hand on the large knife resting at his hip and his eyes open. Picking his way to the front door, he lifted the latch and let himself inside. Dust from the last five years touched everything and the mouldering smell of neglect hit his nose. Still, it was out the wind and that was a definite improvement. Keeping his hand on the knife handle, he made his way through the entrance and into the bar area. A huge fireplace was the central feature of the ancient building and he was sorely tempted to light it. Only the fear of discovery kept him from doing so. Leaving the large room behind, he went in search of the kitchen.
Finding it as deserted as the rest of the place, he carefully avoided opening the fridge, having learned that mistake the hard way. The room was gloomy but silent, there was no one here. As quickly as he could, he threw the cupboards open in search of something that might resemble food. Most of the cupboards were empty, except for a few packets of dried pasta, which he shoved into his battered rucksack. He was about to give up when the final draw revealed a couple of rusty tins containing Spam and a jar of peaches. A bounty like that was nothing to be sniffed at so he snatched them up and left.
The large, empty common room was far too open for him to comfortably sleep in so he abandoned it in search of the stairs. Pushing through a large door, he climbed them and found a much smaller room. This one had a bed at least, still with some blankets on too. Still not wanting to risk a fire, even in the much smaller hearth, he sat on the floor and pulled the thick blanket around him instead. Pulling out one of the tins, he tapped it gently with the tip of his wand and the thing popped open. Reaching into his pack for a spoon, he began shovelling the much needed meat into his mouth. It didn’t take long to finish. When he had, he wiped the spoon as best he could and put it back into his pack. Rising, he picked up the nearby chair and used it to jam the door shut. There had been no sign of any Restless since leaving the road but there was no need to be careless. When that was done, he muttered, “Lumos,” to light his wand. His voice was rusty, cracked from lack of use. He hadn’t seen another soul for two months now and even then, he had avoided their questions before slipping away unseen.
He tugged a book from his pack and began leafing through it. He’d read it hundreds of times now and the pages were worn and thin but in absence of anything else, he had to make do. Jane Eyre wasn’t what he would normally read but it had been the only thing he’d grabbed when he’d left Hogwarts, years previously. It didn’t take long for his eyes to grow heavy. Crawling onto the mattress, he felt the tug of sleep pulling on his consciousness. The novelty of sleeping in a bed wasn’t lost on him, though he didn’t remove his shoes. He doused his wand and tucked it safe against his forearm. Sleep took him moments later.
Severus awoke when he heard shuffling downstairs. Early morning light filtered through the dusty window. He was alert in seconds, on his feet and ready to face whatever it was downstairs. Brushing his oily black hair from his face, he silently removed the chair that was jamming the door shut. He pressed an ear against it, listening for any movement on the other side. After three minutes, there was none so he eased it open and stepped into the corridor.
Pressing to the side of the hallway, he navigated the stairway, keeping his steps light, his mind alert. His breaths came in short measure, shallow and ready to run should he need to. So far, he could see or hear nothing. Arriving at the door at the foot of the stairs, he peeked through the glass. The large room appeared deserted; still, he crouched there for a long moment. When he was sure it was clear, he opened the door quietly and crept into the common room.
He was sure he’d gotten away with it. Sure he was about to make his exit and be on his way without encountering any trouble. As his hand reached out for the final door he froze, “Not so fast!” A sharp female voice barked. “I have a cross bow aimed right at your back so don’t move an inch.” Swallowing hard, he remained exactly where he was. It would only take a quick flick of his wrist to retrieve his wand, a small gesture to aim it at this assailant, disarm them and get out of there. He wished them no harm but neither was he going to be taken down easily.
The woman behind him coughed, “Now, turn around… Slowly.” He did as she requested, turned to his left, away from her. Twisting his wrist, he let his wand drop into his hand as he moved. The rest of his turn was faster. As he brought his arm up, his eyes followed, the words of the spell died on his lips, half formed when his eyes met a familiar face.
The woman’s eyes widened and she dropped her crossbow. He hadn’t been mistaken then. He stood there, frozen in place as she squealed and surged forward. Arms clasped his waist and made a fuss over him. Not knowing what to do, he remained rigid, upright and totally lost. Never had his presence caused such a reaction, even when the world was right with itself.
“Oh Merlin, I can’t believe it’s you!” she whispered. “I thought you were dead.”
“Nearly everyone is dead,” he replied. It wasn’t much comfort to anyone but it was the truth. Slowly, she untwined herself from his stiff body and picked up her crossbow. He looked over her again and nodded, it was definitely her. Thinner, leaner with a hard glint in her eyes that had been absent in her school years but the bushy hair and the chocolate eyes gave her away.
“Not everyone.” Hermione said. A small smile playing on her lips as she bent to retrieve the crossbow. Severus tucked his wand back in his sleeve and made sure everything else was in place.
“No?”
“Nope. Harry and Ron are alive.” He shuddered despite himself. He had hoped to not see those two particular idiots again so soon. “Several Order Members are around. Moody, Tonks, Remus…” Her voice trailed off as he looked her up and down.
“Minerva?”
Hermione shook her head. It was to be expected, she’d been old at the battle of Hogwarts. The Restless were not kind on the old or frail. Stilll, the actual knowledge of his friend’s death caused a pang in his chest. He merely nodded however and urged he girl to speak on. “We’re camped about three days south of here. Why don’t you come with me and see for yourself.”
“Maybe I’ll get some answers,” he muttered. The ten words he’d spoken were the most in months and he coughed, aware that his voice was raw. His throat too, come to think of it. He was about to reach into his pack for some water when she threw him her water skin.
“We’ve food and water enough at the camp and it’s safe there too. The Restless can’t get in and you’ll be able to rest as much as you want.” Her explanation was enough and he was sorely tempted. He had been long without company and that alone did much to persuade him. Slowly, he nodded.
“Very well. Take me to this camp of yours.”
The look of delight on her face was a picture and he almost smiled. Thrusting his hand through his hair to force it back from his forehead, he gestured for her to lead on. Early morning light spread over the grass-swamped fields and thankfully, the wind had dropped. He followed close behind her in silence, looking from side to side at the walked. He noted that she was not heading back towards the A1 but found that it didn’t matter. London could wait. He may well find what he needed to know in this camp of hers. He just hoped that they could make it there safely.
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