The Unfortunates

Ah! Now, I know this is a hideous delay, and I'm terribly sorry - but as always, don't fret, because I never abandon fics, simply because I hate it when the fics I love gets abandoned. So there you are. Hope this is okay!

Enjoy!

(And please feel free to overlook my crappy latin. That's not the issue here, after all! Besides, it's longer than usual. Yippee!)

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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: DAWN APPROACHES


“Kindly take your seats, ladies and gentlemen.”

Careful shuffling was heard as the Death Eaters in the big conference room on level two of the Ministry of Magic Headquarters took their seats around the table.

They sat in complete silence, two rows of elegantly dressed men and women, each one of them sitting with their heads held high, each one inexplicably proudly bearing a Dark Mark sewn into the shoulder of their robes. The entire atmosphere of the room reeked of wealth, importance and, above all, power.

At the head of the table sat a man in his early forties. Though he was fairly young still, considering how old wizards could get, his hair was as silvery white as it had been from the moment it had first appeared on his scalp. It did not make him look old, however, for Lucius Malfoy was far from a man who would look old. He looked anything but it; just the right, experienced age– which gave him an air of authority and importance– just the right, smug expression that spoke of his success and just the right, mild expression of boredom, that simply stated to the rest of the room just how important he was.

After a minute or so, he cleared his throat and got to his feet; his elegant hands rested upon the mahogany tabletop.

“Welcome, friends, and good evening,” said his smooth, cocky voice. He looked as though he was fighting to restrain a smirk of victory. “I am glad to see you all here. It is an important day in the history of the followers, and all of you gathered around this table today are important enough to learn exactly what makes today so important.”

The air was laden with anticipation.

“For months now, we have all been struggling with the newest project our Lord assigned us with: The Wizard’s Chase. Today I can finally announce that the project is ready to be tested.”

There was an obvious excitement about the table as this news sank in with those seated; they seemed eager to learn more, eager to learn the possibilities.

“After I myself finally developed the potion that could complete the Chase,” said Lucius Malfoy, not even bothering to sound smug anymore; apparently he was beyond it, “the Dark Lord decided we can finally put it into action. I direct your attention... to this.”

He flicked his wand, and out of nowhere a small piece of parchment seated on its very own, specially designed stool appeared on the table in front of him. Every single person around the table leaned in for a closer look.

“This is the Wizard’s Chase?” said a man on the right hand side of the table at last.

“A part of it, yes,” said Lucius, apparently eager to explain. “This piece of parchment is one of the world’s most advanced magical equipment to date. Allow me to demonstrate.”

He gently took the parchment from its stool, unfolded it on the table– it wasn’t very big; no bigger than any ordinary piece– and pointed his wand at it.

“Locare England, London, the Ministry of Magic Headquarters, level two, conference room 2B.”

Immediately, the conference room appeared on the parchment, drawn from above as though on a map, with the names of each one of the Death Eaters seated around the table written elegantly on their place.

“Is it us? Now?” asked Rabastan Lestrange, who was seated on Lucius’s right.

“Yes,” said Lucius. “This parchment– this map– shows any place of the world, and any individual which may be present there.”

Silence filled the conference room for a moment.

“Any place of the world?” said a woman at the far end. “Any?”

Lucius nodded. “Simply state what you want to see, and it will appear. But that is not the most genius of it. We all know what the Wizard’s Chase was developed to catch the traitors who have escaped justice. Now, as we more or less know who all of them are, we have of course registered their wands. What this precious map here does, it locates magic– that is, magic performed by said registered wands. If any wand belonging to a traitor is being used nearby, it will show on this map. You will see a small, drawn star next to the person’s name. Nothing will be hidden from this map; it will show any individual, even if they are using cloaking spells.”

“Forgive me, Lucius,” said Antonin Dolohov then, leaning forwards, “but are we to run around looking at maps at all hours of the day?”

“Patience, Antonin,” said Lucius. “Only half the Chase has been explained so far.”

Yet again, silence fell as the group of Death Eaters waited in anticipation.

Out from his pocket, Lucius Malfoy pulled a small vial, in which there glowed a strange, dark red liquid.

“This is my piece,” he explained. “In here rests the Revelation Potion, a draught I have developed myself. It is extremely challenging to brew and contains numerous rare ingredients, but its purpose is quite extraordinary. Take a sip of this potion, and then pour a drop of it onto your Wizard’s Chase map, and your body will be able to feel when magic is being performed by these registered wands within a two kilometres radius.”

“Feel?” said one of the Death Eaters. “How, feel?”

“Your body– your mind– will know it,” stated Lucius simply. “It is foolproof.”

“How long does the Revelation Potion last at a time?” asked another one.

“It varies slightly,” replied Lucius, “but generally it lasts for three to four days, depending on how long it takes to get fully out of your system. It does not take a large dose to make it last, and I warn you not to drink any more than necessary; the ingredients are quite poisonous if taken too much of.”

“Will we all be given these maps and potions?” asked Rodolphus Lestrange.

“With time,” replied Lucius Malfoy. “It is expensive work, creating both the maps and the potions. All of you, as our Lord’s most loyal servants, will of course be the first to get it. For now, we only have one copy of the map, and that is the one you see here before you, which of course is in my possession.”

“When can we expect to get them?” asked a Death Eater.

“You will be notified,” replied Lucius. “It will be soon enough.”

“This is brilliant,” whispered a woman’s voice at the end of the table. “They will be able to hide from us no more; there will finally be justice brought upon those who dare stand in the Dark Lord’s way...” She laughed with satisfaction; a nasty, high-pitched laugh.

“You are most correct, Bellatrix,” said Lucius. “Now, as you realize, great security precautions will be taken to ensure that the maps don’t fall into the wrong hands. Each map will be charmed to obey only its owner, and you will all be warned to take special care of your Revelation Potion– it can do a lot of other things besides revealing magic.”

“Like what?” asked someone instantly.

“Like kill you.” Lucius paused for effect, then added, smugly, “Thank you for your attention, ladies and gentlemen– we are through here.”

Noise and small talk erupted as casualness found its way back in the once very formal room; some were getting to their feet, leaving, whilst others were hanging around, chatting to one another.

Lucius was approached by Antonin Dolohov just as he had packed away his treasured Wizard’s Chase.

“Between you and me, Lucius,” said Dolohov, his voice conspiratorially, “I am curious: Where ever did you get the idea for something like this? The parchment, I mean? A map of the world, with the names and everything? It’s very advanced!”

“Indeed,” said Lucius, and to Dolohov’s surprise there was a hint of irritation in his voice. He lowered it as he replied, “I regret to say we did not think of it ourselves. As it happens, the inspiration first came to Bella, the night following the overthrowing of Hogwarts.”

“Is that so?”

“She was scurrying through Potter’s artefacts and came across a very peculiar piece of parchment,” said Lucius. “It took her quite a lot of time to reveal its secret, but when she did, it became obvious to us all what a brilliant piece of magic she had found.”

“Well, what was it, then?” asked Dolohov eagerly.

“A map. A map of Hogwarts, to be exactly, designed in very much the same fashion as our Wizard’s Chase map. It showed every room, on every floor, and every secret passage. It also showed each individual present within the confines of the castle.”

“Where did it come from?”

“We do not know yet,” replied Lucius. “I highly doubt Potter could have constructed it. In any case, it became the inspiration to our search for the traitors. Of course we greatly advanced it– making a map of the world takes a lot of work.”

“Nothing’s impossible with magic,” smirked Dolohov.

“Luckily,” said Lucius dryly. “Of course you will keep this story to yourself.”

“Of course,” he replied without hesitation.

And with a quick nod, Lucius Malfoy was gone.

* * *

Severus and Bill walked quickly, in silence, towards the front doors. Severus wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, so he decided he might as well acquire some information.

“Who are they, exactly?” he asked Bill.

“The messengers? A witch and a wizard; I don’t know any of them. They weren’t very willing to talk about themselves either, actually, so it’s hard to find something to tell you about them.”

“How about, how you came to bring them to Killengreen?” suggested Severus dryly.

Bill smiled apologetically. “Fred and I managed to talk to one of their guards on the outskirts of the farm–”

Guards? They had guards?

“– and after explaining our situation, though without any more details than necessary, the guards called for someone who appeared to be in charge – or higher ranking, who knows – who said if we’d let them they’d send two messengers with us to verify what information we’d given them.”

“Information such as...?”

“Well, we had to tell them something,” said Bill. “They were obviously fighting You Know Who, and quite brutally at that, so to be honest we felt a bit threatened; they didn’t believe us at first when we said we were rebels fighting the Death Eaters.”

“What sort of information?” presses Severus impatiently.

“For one thing, we ended up mentioning Harry.”

Severus thought about that for a second. Was it good or bad? Certainly a lot of information to give out to strangers, but then again everyone knew Potter was still alive, and probably still fighting– and if telling these people he was amongst the Rebels could help, then...?

Well. It remained to be seen, though, if they even were trustworthy.

They reached the front doors and exited to the cold, wintery feel of early December. Making their way down the hill, Severus could clearly see three people at the bottom: Fred Weasley with a man and a woman, both holding a broomstick in one hand and wand at the ready in the other.

Paranoid types, then, like Bill had suggested. Severus bit back a snort.

They reached the end of the hill, but stopped short of stepping out of the enchanted area.

“I’ll Disillusion you before we step out to them. I did that before I went up,” said Bill to Severus. He nodded, and Bill waved his wand at them both before they stepped off the hill. Out of sight, they passed Fred and the two messengers and headed about twenty meters behind them, into the forest and out of sight, before Bill lifted the charm and they stepped out again to meet with the newly arrived.

No point letting them know that the hideout cast with the Fidelius Charm was on top of the hilltop, after all. Better then to let them think it was somewhere in the woods, perhaps.

Severus and Bill reached the three on the slope of the hill, and Severus was immediately a little taken aback by the strangers’ appearance.

It was definitely a witch and a wizard, but they certainly didn’t look like people who could pass unnoticed through the old Diagon Alley: Their hair was cut short and uneven; as though it had only been a bother, and cut to be kept out of the way, and their clothes were mostly black or dark green or brown; generally colours with which you could hide in the shadows. The strangest were their faces, though.

They’d painted themselves with what could only be described as war paint. Severus knew Muggles had done this in the past, but he couldn’t imagine why anyone would bother doing it now, during times like these. What purpose did it serve? If anything it just made them look like savages, rather than the respected magicians they might have been.

“Lads,” said Fred to the two messengers, “I’d like to introduce you to Severus Snape.”

They eyed him suspiciously. The witch gave a slight nod of acknowledgement.

“This is Kaiser and Meche,” said Fred to Severus, who returned the nod, although reluctantly.

The girl– Meche– took control of the situation. “We are the messengers from Daybreakers,” she said, reaching out a stout hand.

Severus raised an eyebrow– at both the attitude and the name– but decided wisely not to comment on it. Instead he reached out his own hand and shook Meche’s. Her grip was surprisingly firm, but formal.

“You are in charge of this resistance?” asked Kaiser.

“Hardly,” said Severus through thin lips, “I merely provide the refuge.”

“Harry’s in charge, actually,” said Fred lightly.

“Harry Potter?”

“That’s the one, yeah.”

“I highly doubt that,” said Meche matter-of-factly.

“Come in and see for yourself, then!”

“Please, Mr. Weasley,” interrupted Severus, “do not let your desire to prove your friendship with Potter get in the way of basic common sense. I will not let these people into my house before I know they will cause no harm.”

Kaiser raised his wand. “The harm will be caused if you don’t let us speak to your leader, Mr. Snape.”

“Indeed?” said Severus, and had his own wand whipped out in a matter of seconds. “For a moment there it sounded as though you were threatening me?”

“I was,” snarled Kaiser.

“Stop it, both of you,” said Bill, almost exasperatedly, “and lower your wands, for the gods’ sake! We’re on the same side here!”

“Someone seems to be giving me the wrong impression, then,” said Severus, but reluctantly lowered his wand all the same. He didn’t put it away, though. He didn’t trust these so-called ‘messengers’.

And he certainly didn’t approve of their attitude.

“How about this,” said Bill desperately, “you tell us about the– Daybreakers, was it? – and then, by winning our confidence in a non-threatening way, we will let you in to meet the rest of the Rebels. Does that sound fair?”

Kaiser seemed hesitant, but Meche said, loudly and clearly, “Fair.” Because her partner disagreed with her on that, Meche became the one to tell the three Rebels about Daybreakers.

“Daybreakers is a resistance,” she stated, “consisting of one hundred fourteen witches, wizards, and Muggles who have escaped Voldemort’s wrath. We have our refuge in the farm just outside Nairn.”

“How came you to be so many?” demanded Severus.

“Over time we have come across many who wanted to help us in the fight,” said Meche. “The Muggles have not been of much use, except perhaps for intelligence work, but mostly all of our people are skilled fighters.”

“‘Fighters?’” echoed Bill sceptically.

“This is a war, Mr. Weasley,” said Meche simply.

“And you spend your time acting like Muggle guerrilla soldiers, fighting the Dark Lord?” said Severus, his voice slightly wry.

“We do not like the comparison,” said Meche, “but in a way I suppose, yes. And please, do not refer to Voldemort as ‘the Dark Lord’.”

“I refer to him any way I choose.”

“Okay, let’s keep it friendly,” said Bill hastily. “Severus, are you convinced?”

He thought about it for a second. From what he knew of the Dark Lord and Death Eater activity, it was very improbable that they would arrange for a scam like this just to capture the Rebels– gathering hundreds of unknown people to act like oppositionists? Hardly.

“Hand over your wands,” said Severus, “and I will allow you entrance.”

“We will not,” said Meche at once. “We have every bit as much reason to suspect you as you do us. And you greatly outnumber us once we get inside. We will keep our wands.”

All things considered, Severus supposed it sounded fair. He didn’t like it, though. He didn’t like them– they reminded him too much of, well, exactly that: Muggle guerrilla.

He drew a deep breath and sighed before saying the words, “Welcome to Killengreen” to reveal his family estate to the two messengers. Meche seemed completely unaffected by the look of this grand house materializing in front of her, but Kaiser at least, seemed impressed.

Severus led the way back up to the manor and allowed his new guests inside, away from the biting cold of the evening. He led them straight to the dining hall, where the Rebels still hadn’t moved since Bill’s arrival.

Severus’ eye caught Hermione’s as he entered, and the exchanged glance spoke a thousand words and promises.

“Harry Potter...!” said Meche upon entering, forgetting herself.

“Like we said,” muttered Fred, who couldn’t help himself.

Potter got to his feet and spoke to the Rebels at the table. “Er, I think it’s best if we’re not too many here to speak with these– these messengers. I guess I have to ask you all to leave; we’ll meet again during breakfast tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, all the Rebels got to their feet and made their way out of the dining hall. Severus didn’t look at Hermione as she left, but felt her presence for every step she took.

“Remus,” said Potter then, “would you stay?”

Severus turned to leave. Then–

“And– er– Professor Snape? If you would?”

Grudgingly, because he didn’t want to spend so much as another second with the likes of Kaiser and Meche if he could avoid it, Severus turned again and returned to the table, seating himself opposite Lupin. The two messengers sat down next to the werewolf, eyeing Potter with a mixture of curiosity and scepticism, as though they still didn’t quite believe it was really him.

“So you are Harry Potter,” said Meche. “I have always wanted to meet you.”

“Yeah, I am,” said Potter, hesitant himself after taking in the attitude of the newcomers, “and you are...?”

“I am Meche,” she replied, “and this is Kaiser. That is all you need to know about us.”

“I am of a different opinion,” said Lupin immediately.

“We’re just messengers,” said Kaiser, “it doesn’t matter who we are.”

“To us it does. It’s not enough to hear you quoting some unknown oppositionist leader; we need you know who you are.”

Meche sighed. “Originally, we came from a town just outside Birmingham.”

“And you never went to Hogwarts, I take it?”

“Home schooled. Our parents didn’t have faith in Hogwarts, or any of the other academies.”

“Are you siblings?” asked Potter.

Meche narrowed her eyes, but nodded reluctantly.

“Good,” said Lupin, “now we know a little bit about each other.”

“Why are we speaking to you?” demanded Kaiser then. “We were told by this bloke here,” he nodded towards Severus, “that Harry Potter was in charge, not some scruffy old man!”

“I asked Lupin to be here for a reason,” said Potter then, a bit insulted. “But yeah, I’m in charge. And you’re messengers, then? From... From the lot in the farm?”

“Daybreakers,” said Kaiser immediately.

“The what?”

“Apparently, they call themselves the Daybreakers,” said Severus with contempt, forcing himself not to appear too snide. It really was a ridiculous sounding name, though.

“Why?” Potter wanted to know.

“Every great victory takes place at the break of dawn,” replied Meche with ease.

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” said Potter, slightly uncomfortable. “You’ve got a message from...?”

“Our leader, yes,” said Meche. “We were to come here and investigate who you were. The messengers you brought did not appear very diplomatic, but all the same it was worth the look. If we believed your story, we were to bring word back to our leader, so you might meet and join forces.”

“Join forces...?” said Potter hesitantly.

“A small army is not a good army.”

“Army?”

“The war, Mr. Potter– she is referring to the war,” said Severus wryly.

“I know that,” he said angrily. “But– so– you’re basically fighting Voldemort, then?”

“That we are,” nodded Meche. “We are many, but we will always need more. And we can never beat him.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Mr. Potter, you are currently not among us.”

“And what have I got to do with anything?” asked Potter slowly.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” said Kaiser then; apparently he’d reached the end of his patience. “The number of times you’ve survived Voldemort’s attacks... We’re under the solemn belief that the only one who can defeat him for good is you!”

“Where did you get that idea?” asked Lupin immediately.

“It’s our belief.”

“Ah.”

“Well, er,” said Potter, “I suppose... It’s late, how about you spend the night? That way you’ll get a good look at how things work with the Rebels, and you’ll be able to judge us accordingly. Then in the morning, you can go back to your– er– leader, and tell him or her what you’ve found out.” He seemed awkward as he added, “I can’t let you go without someone from the Rebels going with you, of course... Just to make sure, I mean...”

“A necessary precaution,” said Meche sensibly. “We have travelled quite long, and it is late. Will you allow us to retire then?”

“Sure,” said Potter. “Er, Professor Snape...?”

“First floor,” he said with disinterest. “The guest rooms in the east wing.”

“I’ll show you,” said Lupin and got to his feet. As he left with the two messengers, Potter got to his feet and turned his reluctant attention to Severus.

“Do you think,” he began, “do you think it’s a good idea to have them over night? With wands and everything while the others sleep, I mean?”

“Don’t fret, Potter,” said Severus wearily, “the elves will keep their eye on them.”

“They will?”

“Oh yes, they always watch newcomers. Did I not mention that?”

“I think that one must’ve slipped me by,” said Potter sulkily, before finally leaving Severus to his solitude.

Gods, how his head was aching. He had not had a good day, and this final meeting with Kaiser and Meche had been most tiring. Who did they think they were? One would almost think– if it wasn’t for the fact that they weren’t Muggles– that they had had military training! How preposterous.

Rubbing his temples and squeezing his eyes shut, Severus sat at the table for a whole fifteen minutes before deciding he might as well head off; there was no reason to sit around here.

As he left the dining hall to make his way to his quarters, a strange, uncomfortable feeling of loneliness washed over him. He was heading back to his bedroom. Alone. With only the icy cold walls and possibly Mohrag’s phantom for company.

His steps were so slow he could almost have been standing still.

Since when did he resent the thought of being alone? What had brought that upon a lone wolf like himself? Who could possibly have made him, Severus Snape, crave for company?

A certain someone, was who. The very one whose company he craved.

Fumbling with the chain around his neck, Severus hesitantly pulled out the pendant Hermione had given him back when she was still working for the Malfoys. It was blank, but hopefully it wouldn’t be for long.

Pulling out his wand, Severus muttered, “Perscribo Are you awake? I could do with the company, if you will allow it.”

Not a minute went by before a reply scribbled its way across the pendant:

“Come to my room, Severus.”


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A/N: First of all - did anyone catch the symbolism of the title?!

A huge thanks to my brilliant beta JessiokaFroka (hopefully I'll have chapter 32 ready for you to beta by Saturday), and of course to all you brilliant reviewers! What was it I wrote once in regards to "The Seduction Game"... Ah, yes - reviews are breaths of life.

Which means you know what you've got to do, basically.

Grill