Dark Days

Dark Days Chapter Six – Reinforcements and relocations

Severus awoke with the Dawn feeling more refreshed and peaceful than he could ever remember feeling before. Despite the horrific events of the previous day, to just lie there holding Hermione, after the night that they had shared together made him feel completely at ease. She whimpered slightly in her sleep and he murmured comforting words to her and traced tiny circles on her back with his hand.

He sighed then, knowing that this peacefulness could not last long. It was not only the fact that they had to get up and get back to Hogwarts; it was what he had to do. He knew that he had a job to do and only he could do it, but that didn’t make it any easier. He would betray her all too soon.

Somewhere outside birds began to sing and the sun continued in her slow ascent across the sky. Hermione nuzzled closer to Severus and her eyes fluttered open. Suddenly Severus felt apprehensive, how would she act this morning? Did she regret last night? Had her desire for him been borne out of the horrors that she had seen and a need for comfort?

“Morning,” she said timidly.

“Good morning Hermione.”

She sat up somewhat reluctantly, holding the blankets up to cover herself. He followed her lead, the arm that had been beneath her was numb but he hardly noticed.

“Did you sleep well?” he queried.

She nodded, “I did,” and then she smiled. “You have quite a comfy shoulder you know!”

He smiled back; at least she didn’t seem upset or regretful. He tentatively pushed some hair out of her eyes and when she nuzzled into his hand he suddenly felt much better and leaned forwards to kiss her.

“We should get up; we need to get back to Hogwarts.”

“I know,” she sighed regretfully.

Reluctantly they slid out of bed and Severus slipped on his trousers and left to clean up and put on fresh clothes. Hermione felt stiff and a little sore and was grateful to be able to slide into the great bath one more to ease her aches. The robes she had worn yesterday had been thrown out of course, ‘Hope Tikki burns them,’ thought Hermione. She therefore slipped into the dress that Severus had given to her last time and practically floated down the stairs to meet him.

They ate a hurried breakfast and then lit a fire in the grate to get up to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, where they would walk from to the school.

* * * * * *

Jai’Mea lounged indolently on the chaise longe, idly twirling a strand of hair around her finger. She was feeling rather sore this mornind itd it was making her grouchy. Yesterday had been fantastic. She smirked gleefully as she remembered the battle. And the aftermath…well, if anything that had been better. She had found Lord Voldemort basking in the ruddy glow of evening surveying the carnage around him. There had been something so primal about that image that she had been quite overcome with lust. She had made love to him…No, not made love, that implied tenderness and there had been none in this act of sheer animal desire. They had mated right there, lying on thlth lth of the floor, bathing in the blood of the slain, even as she straddled him.

Her smile grew broader. What could be more pleasant than a day of slaughter followed by such complete satisfaction? To top it all off Dumbledore’s fools had been completely overcome and now all of Scotland was theirs. And it was only a matter of time now until the whole world woulw bew before them. Then she would of course replace Voldemort. He was but a means to an end. But long term…oh no, Jai’mea had her sights set much higher.

* * * * * *

Hermione and Severus trudged tiredly up the hill towards Hogwarts. After the exhaustion of the previous day they were quick to tire.

“Sev, the other week when I was at yours and Dumbledore came.” She paused.

“Yes, what about it?” he prompted.

“He was asking you about something that you didn’t want me to know about. Will you tell me? Now that I’m okay? I want to help!”

He looked at her ponderingly. “You already know about my weakness, so I suppose it will do no harm…”

“Weakness? What weakness? Severus Snape you’re the strongest person I know.”

He smirked, “Hardly that…”

She stared at him smugly, “How would you know? Do you know everyone that I know? No you don’t! And in that case you can’t possibly know whether or not you’re the strongest person I know!”

“For a usually articulate person that came out in rather a babble,” he commented rather scathingly.

She pulled her tongue at him. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that pulling tongues is considered the worst form of bad manners?” he asked mockingly.

“Yes.” She grinned. “That’s why I only do it on very special occasions! And don’t change the subject.” Her face suddenly became very serious. “I was worried.”

He paused again, considered whether or not to tell her. Finally he gave in. “It was just about this,” he held out the arm emblazoned with the Dark Mark. “It’s agony every time he summons the Death Eaters and I don’t answer. And it’s been geg stg steadily worse. As if he’s found a way to single me out, to send the pain to me.”

“Is that all?”

“What do you mean is that all?” he sneered.

“I thought it was something terrible, at least embarrassing.”

“I didn’t want you to know about this. It’s a weakness.”

“Now you see that’s the part where you’re stupid. It’s not a weakness when you you’re in agony because of someone else, and I don’t think any less of you because of it. And to think I’ve been worrying about that for ages!” She grinned impishly at him. “But seriously, what are you doing about it? Maybe we could make a potion or something to prevent him from being able to do it, or maybe if you got the tattoo removed…”

He shook his head. “I don’t need help.”

“Don’t be stubborn. I’m helping, end of story.” She stopped then and looked up at him, as if daring him to contradict her. He opened his mouth to argue, but standing on tip-toe to kiss him he was silenced. Again he tried and again she kissed him.

“That’s cheating,” he scolded at length.

“What? Dimeonmeone come and make up a load of rules while I wasn’t looking?” She grinned again. “Come on, lets get on we’re late.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining!” She laughed as she walked on ahead.

Severus stood still for a moment watching her walk. If only that was the only thing he was keeping from her. But no-one knew about the other thing he was concealing, not even Dumbledore. He was skilled enough at Occulumency to hide his thoughts and intentions from everyone. He sighed then, wishing that what he had to do was over; wishing that he could get away from secrets and lies and pain.

* * * * * *

Twelve foot high waves battered age old stone, crashing with a violent ferocity against the cliffs. High above a lone albatross screamed it’s defiance at the storm even as he was blown of course again trying to land. The island itself towered above the waves, rearing above the waves with a solid might that still retained a certain amount of the majestic. The building that dominated the small island was bleak but beautiful in its simplicity. There were few windows to look out across the storm and the heavy gets were barred and bolted. It looked in truth like a last solid remnant of days when knights charged and ladies sat patiently at court embroidering petticoats while their men fought.
Inside was an air of watchfulness, of waiting. Tension was high as the occupants waited for a signal, some small sign that things were about to change forever. And on islands and the mainland nearby, others also waited. The time would soon come for them to move. The time was nigh, and this change was one long awaited.

* * * * * *

The Entrance Hall was filled with people all buzzing excitedly. Longed for reinforcements were finally here. Madame Maxime of the Beauxbatons Academy had had some difficulty in persuading the French Government to aid in the fight against he who must no be named, but she had at last succeeded, in a small way at least. The French Minister for Magic, Jean Depardieu had ordered some of his men to England, and they were due to arrive any minute.

“They’re late.”

“Hush Ron, they’ll be here soon. We’re lucky that they’re coming at all,” admonished Hermione.

“I know I know,” he moaned. “But I haven’t had a day off in ages and I was looking forward to a nice day of wizard chess and gobstones. No responsibility and certainly no standing round in draughty halls waiting for hours, for people who I don’t even know.”

“Whom not who,” she corrected absently, her attention having been caught by something out front.

On the lawn in front of the school there had appeared not one as in the Triwizard Tournament, but twelve huge carriages. The huge horses that pulled them whinnied and stamped, longing to be out of their harnesses. People began to pile out of them then, murmuring quietly in their musical voices. The most impressive of these visitors was of course Madam Maxime herself, she towered above the others and began to shoo them in towards the Great Hall.


“Bonjour et bienvenue,” greeted Dumbledore courteously in their own language before switching to English. “Please forgive me if I speak in English my friends. I must confess that my French is a little rusty.” He smiled then and beckoned them all in. They filled in past the gathered English waiting to greet them. Ron watched with idle disinterest, longing for them to go on by so that he could return to his chess game, until one girl caught his eye.

“Fleur!” he exclaimed.

She turned rather startled by this unexpected outburst, but she smiled when she saw who it was and left her comrades to join Ron and Hermione and Harry.

“Ronald! Eet is so wonderful to see you again. You are well?” She embraced him then causing him to blush a pale shade of red, which he artfully hid. She then turned to Harry. “Harry, you ave grown much since I last saw you. You look vell.”

He flashed her a lopsided grin, “Thanks, and how are? An? And your sister?”

Fleur beamed at this mention of her sister. “I am vell, I thank you, and my sister is marvellous, she is engaged to be married this spring.” He eyes shone with pride.

“Wow, I can’t believe she’s old enough to be getting married already,” gasped Hermione. “How old is she?”

“She is eighteen, young to be marrying no? But he is a wonderful man. And how is Viktor? You were good friends were you not?” She stammered when she saw the slight tightening of Hermione’s eyes.

“He was fine last time we spoke. I haven’t seen him in a good few years though. Excuse me.” With that she turned and walked away. She did not wish to be rude but the mention of Krum at the moment after the night she had just spent with Severus, well; she did not want to be thinking about it.

“Did I say sometheeng wrong?” asked Fleur.

“No, well not really. It’s just Krum…” Ron stopped as Harry stood hard on his foot. “They er…they had a huge row that’s all. Ages ago, never really made up,” He finished then covering his tracks.

Harry looked after Hermione, wonng wng whether or not to follow her, but then they were all shepherded in to the Great Hall. Hermione slipped in at the back and stood in a corner, not particularly in the mood to be in the thick of things. She barely paid attention as Dumbledore firstly welcomed his guests more formerly and then began to brief them on the current situation. She knew most of it already and what she didn’t she was sure the others could fill her in later. About halfway through she gave herself ntalntal slap and started to concentrate again. It was unlike her to loose focus and Dumbledore might say something important. He was just outlining Voldemort’s position (complete with a map of Scotland England and Wales which hung shimmering from the air in front of their eyes) when she began to focus.
There was something about the boundaries on that map that looked familiar, alarming even, but it was a few moments befher her foggy mind could work out what it was. Voldemort was moving closer and closer to the town where her parents now worked. They had moved two years before to a small town near the Scottish border. Panic rose within her. She longed to get out of this meeting. She had to get them away from there, take them somewhere safe.
The minutes until the close of thetineting seemed to drag. Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably in the corner. Finally the meeting was over she practically ran out of the Hall only to collide with Arthur Weasley.

“Sorry Mr Weasley,” she apologised.

“No harm done Hermione, but whatever is the matter? You look as if you’d seen a ghost!”

“Not quite, just realised something dreadful.”

Molly joined them just then with Harry and Ron in tow. “Hello Hermione dear, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

She nodded, “I’m fine, but it’s my parents.”

“Your parents?” asked Harry, “What’s the matter with them, and why didn’t you say something before?”

“Because I only just realised it,” she said exasperatedly. “They moved recently, seeing that map made me remember. They moved to a town that’s directly in Voldemort’s path.” She pointedly ignored the shudders that went through Arthur and Molly. “I need to go to them now. I have to get them away from there, take them somewhere safe.”

“Where will you take them?” asked Ron.

“I don’t know, I really don’t. They can’t come here but I just don’t know where else they could go!”

“Well I can answer that one Hermione dear; they can come and stay with me in the Burrow. I’ll be glad of the company now that Ginny’s flown the coop.” suggested Molly kindly.

“Yes yes, splendid idea. Absolutely marvellous Molly.”

“Thank you so much.”

“That’s quite alright dear. Now why don’t you go and let Dumbledore know where you’re going. I’ll imagine you’ll be a few days, you’ll have to use muggle transportation with them I suppose.”

“Tell me Hermione,” said Mr Weasley then, “Do you think that you father would be able to teach me about muggles while he stays. I have a great many questions rdingding the television and muggle medicine.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione laughed. Mr Weasley never changed; he was still as fascinated by muggles as ever. Molly however looked a bit pained Hermione thought.

* * * * * *

The porcelain plate dropped to the tiled floor and smashed with a great clatter as the grey haired woman holding it screamed. “My God Hermione,” the woman admonished when she had caught her breath, “Don’t startle me like that.”

“Sorry mum,” replied Hermione, her face sombre. “Where’s dad?”

“He’s in the garden. Why?”

“You have to leave here. Tonight if possible. I’ve come to take you someplace safe.”

“Hermione darling what on earth you you talking about?”

“I’ll get dad and then I’ll explain. Put the kettle on mum, I think we’ll all need a drink in a minute or two.”

With that she turned and pushed open the back door leading to a neat cottage garden. Vegetables had been planned in a plot by the wall and a cobbled path wound its way down to the small gazebo at the bottom of the garden. Brightly coloured flowers had been planted in beds here and there and the lawn was short and neat. Apple trees linee sie side of the garden and a huge old oak cast its shade over the far corner. Hermione’s father was kneeling at one of the beds with a trowel.

“Dad?” Hermione called.

He looked around. “Hermione!” he exclaimed delightedly. “What are doi doing here?” He stood and embraced her warmly.

“I have news for you and mum. You’d better come inside.”

He looked puzzled but Hermione cut him off before he could ask. “Just come in, please!”

Soon after they were sitting in the Granger’s comfortable lounge. as oas only a small room really but bright and airy, and very homey. Hermione wished that she need not drag them away from their beautiful new home. They were both so happy here. Mum had made friends with the village ladies and had apparently joined the knitting circle despite not being able to knit, but she was learning. And her dad had his garden and a nearby river where he and his new found friends were often seen with fishing poles in their hands. Hermione wondered briefly what it was about water that seemed to make men automatically sprout fishing poles from his hands. It wasn’t just dad; she’d noticed it on many occasions. Then with a shake she brought herself back to reality. The cup of tea in her hands was warm and comforting and she held on to it tightly.

“Now Hermione, what were you talking about us leaving? Do you mean for a holiday?” asked her mother.

“Leave? What’s this?” exclaimed her father then startled.

“No not for a holiday mum. Forever. It’s not safe for you here any more.”

“What do you mean not safe? Why wouldn’t it be safe?”

“Do you remember me telling you about Lord Voldemort a few years ago?”

“Yes, he’s that horrible wizard isn’t he?”

“Horrible doesn’t even begin to cover it mum. He’s evil, there’s really no other word for it. Well anyway. He’s the one that’s taken over Scotland, it isn’t…well, I don’t know what they’ve said on the muggle news.”

“Religious fanatics,” her father informed her then. “Apparently they’re blaming it all on some religious sect that’s sprung up. But as no-ones been able to get into Scotland there haven’t really been any reports.”

“Oh people have been getting into Scotland alright dad, that’s not the problem. Getting in is not the problem. It’s getting back out that’s the impossible part. If they’re lucky they die quickly. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?”

“Otherwise it’ll take them weeks, maybe months to die. And they’re tortured and raped and worked like slaves. And that’s what’ll happen to you if you stay here. Voldemort’s heading this way. I’m sorry to be so blunt but I need to get you away from here and it needs to be tonight.” She paused then and took a sip of her tea.

“Where will go?” asked her father seriously. Her mother looked too shocked and horrified to speak.

“Arthur and Molly Weasley have offered to let you stay with them. You’ll be safe there.”

“I can’t go tonight Hermione. It’s the knitting circle and I promised to bring the cake.”

Hermione looked at her mother sharply. She looked dazed and her eyes were glazed over.

“Mum I’m sorry but you have to.”

“No dear, maybe next week when I’ve had time to pack.”

“No mum. You’re coming with me NOW.”

“I don’t think I like that tone of voice young lady. You may be an adult now but I am still your mother!”

“You don’t have to like my tone mum; you just have to do it.”

“She’s right sweetheart,” said her father then. “It’s our only choice.”

She looked at him dazedly. “But what about…”

“What about nothing mum. Just please go upstairs and pack some clothes. Put in photos and things too. Anything that you want to keep but not more than we can carry. We have a long journey and I want to get going tonight.”

Finally her mother seemed to understand. “We have to leave everything? What about all our things? Our house? Our friends?” She got really hysterical then. “What about Miriam and Janet? And Rachelle? She’s just had a baby, he’s so beautiful, Ryan he’s called. We have to tell them! We have to get them out too!”

Hermione was crying now. “Mum we can’t. How could we tell them? What would we say to make them move?”

“We could tell them the truth!”

“Tell them what? That an evil wizard was coming to kill them? They’d never believe you. Besides, I can’t, we can’t reveal ourselves to the muggle world. We have enough to worry about just now without having to dodge frightened angry muggles too. They’d be as much of a danger to us as Voldemort.”

“I find that very hard to believe!”

“Of course they would be mum! People have always feared what they don’t understand and when people don’t understand things they want to control them so that they aren’t scared anymore.”

“They wouldn’t be worse than him!” she asserted stubbornly.

“Yes mum they would. All down through history witches and wizards have been persecuted; it’s the way of the world. And I’m not prepared to put my friends through that. I’m sorry but you’ll just have to do it!”

“NO!” the cup that Mrs Granger had been holding dropped to the floor covering her in scalding tea which she hardly seemed to notice. “You’re lying! It’s not true! I won’t believe it I won’t!” With that she turned and collapsed sobbing onto herbandband’s shoulder.

”There there dear, come now! Let’s just go, if only for a few days. Then we can make sure of a few things. And spending a few days with the Weasley’s might be rather pleasant really don’t you think? You always said you liked Molly.” He looked at Hermione as if to say, let’s humour her, break her into it gently. “Get on upstairs now and put a few clothes into a bag. And why not put in our wedding photo’s and some of Hermione as a baby, Molly might like to see them don’t you think?”

He gently led his wife out of the room and herded her towards the stairs. Hermione watched them leave and began to cry again. She was breaking apart their whole world. Her tea lay forgotten on the arm of the chair as she gazed absently at the door which her parents had gone through.