When they landed noisily on an empty platform, their echoing thuds and the subsequent whistle of a train startled Hermione. But they were safe for the time being as she dropped onto one of the waiting chairs on the platform and looked around.
"Paddington station," she panted, "I'm sorry, this is the only place I could think of at the moment..."
Snape was breathing hard too as he scanned the place still seated on the floor. "No...it's actually just the place we needed to be. Townsend will be around here." But that could wait for the moment. He brought his gaze back on her, checking to make sure she was alright. She looked at him and asked instead, "Are you okay?"
He just nodded but his mind was preoccupied. "I never thought...I can't believe they found us... That was a good cover and we lost it." he ran his hands through his hair, frustrated, "Damn, I should've been more careful! How could I be stupid enough to think it was safe for you to go out? I should have known anyone could be following us."
"God, I'm so sorry...All of our stuff...we left them all...what are we gonna do?" She clutched her hair in despair.
Realizing she was taking the blame on herself he quickly corrected his tone. "I suppose, there's no use worrying about it," he said, pushing himself off the ground and joining her, "Right now, we need to get off the streets. We can find the gentleman's club that the Dominus talked about later, but we need to get you somewhere safe. Now."
"But- but I left the tent in my purse, we can't camp out without it," she said, "And the money I brought with me was in there as well..."
"I think I got a few things here..." He felt around in his pockets, "Shit...Do I have any money...? Let's see, hmm...I do have some muggle money-"
"We could stay at a motel then," she suggested.
"A motel?"
"Yes, that's our only option right now," she grabbed a hold of his hand and made for the exit, "Let's not waste any more time."
Even if Snape was very careful the last time, he was very confident- about the inn, about Madam Hestia and assured that they would be able to stay there for a long time without getting bothered. But now he was more anxious; he didn't trust anybody and after what had just happened, he was rightfully more paranoid. This place wasn't exactly in his purview and he had no contacts here. He made Hermione reject four motels before finally entering a comparatively less filthy-looking one.
The reception was getting manned by a gum-chewing junkie-looking teenager who put down his very graphic adult magazine as they approached, and passed his glance over the two of them.
This time Snape began to speak without consulting her and said, "We would like to take a room. What's the rate over here?"
But Hermione thought that the muggle world was more her domain, so she led the conversation somewhat enthusiastically. "Hi! I know it's very late but we really need a room tonight. Is there one available? And is the diner open by any chance?"
He was still staring from one to the other and the fact that they were not carrying any luggage, made him try to add things up. "Wait, you wanna get a room? With him?" he looked concerned but in a mocking way, "Where did you find this creep? Lady, do you want me to call the police?"
"No, no! He's a friend."
He settled down somewhat and then shrugged nonchalantly. "Alrigh'...I guess people do all sorts of things for money..."
"What exactly do you mean?" demanded Snape.
The boy avoided the question and asked with an impudent smirk, "Do you want the room for the entire day or do you wanna pay on a per hour basis?"
"Listen here you- you little punk!" he almost jabbed a finger in his face, "Don't try to-"
"We'll take the room on a per hour basis," Hermione supplied.
He looked astonished at her, "You- you're not understanding what he's trying to imply..."
"I understand perfectly," she said, "We just need a room for a few hours. We won't be staying for long..." Aside she said to Snape, "We don't have much money to pay upfront for a whole day. We're only staying if we find Townsend. Let's see how it goes first..."
"Granger..."
"Hey, it don't matter to me," the boy gave another shrug, "We get all sorts of people here. Pulling up for a quick shag-"
Hermione was afraid Snape was going to flash his wand and tried to stop him, but he went for the boy's collar. "Why you insolent little...!"
"Severus! Stop! Let him go-"
"What makes him think he can-"
"I know," she said, "But he's just a kid fooling around. Don't let this stupid jerk make you lose your temper. Right now we need to get inside. Somewhere they can't find us." She had chosen her words carefully and slowly turned her head towards the boy to give him an intimidating look.
He looked visibly scared as Snape let go of his collar and he stared from one to the other. "Y- you guys aren't running from the police, are ya? You haven't o-o-offed someone, have you?"
She kept the right amount of a dangerous smirk on her face as she said, "Do you really wanna find out?"
He swallowed hard and shook his head vigorously. When she saw he had effectively been frightened, she flashed a charming smile. "Great! Then we would like a single room with two beds, please," She authoritatively held her hand out. "Keys?"
The quavering boy dropped it in her palm and forgot to even make them sign the register. Hermione gallantly took them and marched off, only after whispering an obliviatory charm, so that the boy went back to munching on cheez-its while perusing his magazine.
They went into their room and it was perfectly adequate; two single beds, bedside tables, a closet, a square table with two chairs and a small bathroom. Just like the motels Hermione had seen in American movies.
They performed the dusting charm and closed off all the curtains, double-checking the locks on the door and Hermione plonked down on the bed while Snape silently put incantations on it.
She was beginning to feel the aches in her body and wanted nothing more than to just close her eyes and let sleep take her. The prickly mattress of the motel room felt like a featherbed now that she was so tired. But she couldn't rest just yet- not with so many thoughts stabbing at her mind.
"Do you think Madam Hestia would be alright?"
He looked at her and sighed. "We don't have a way of knowing right now," he shrugged out of his cloak and hung it on the back of a chair. "I suppose, we're gonna have to wait till tomorrow's papers. The Daily Prophet will definitely cover the news...good or bad." Fatigue was beginning to show on his face too and it was clear he was done for the day. Hermione let out a deep sigh and silently prayed for the recovery of the elderly inn-keeper, who had come into the line of fire through no fault of her own.
Snape came out after using the washroom and looked at her quizzically. "Why didn't you go to bed? Oh, I forgot to mention," He went to where he had hung his robes and pulled out a pouch bag, "Here, I packed you a pair of pyjamas."
She caught the clothes he tossed at her and went up to him, curiously peeking into the pouch. "What else have you got in there?"
"Not much," he replied, "Just some necessities. I made a kit bag, you know, in case we needed to run. I had that idea at the last moment. Never thought we'd have to use it but you can't be too careful..."
She kept staring at the little pouch; it was all that was left of the provisions that they had brought with them for the journey. She was glad Snape was able to save a few of their belongings but she couldn't get over the fact that most of them were lost. "God...I still can't believe it," she clicked her tongue, "All those days of preparation...brewing polyjuice potion...wasted! What a shame..."
"Be thankful you came out of it intact," he said, "But I don't think they were going to hurt you. For whatever purpose it was, they wanted you alive."
"No, they were going to hurt you. And that was enough to tell me I wanted nothing to do with them."
He said nothing, simply looked at her with an odd expression on his face. She remained silent for a while, till she coaxed, "So what do you think the Mad King- or whatever his name is- wants to do with me?"
He seemed to be brought out of a trance and he assumed the expression he reserves for when he is trying to find a solution to a problem that particularly challenges his intellect. "He has an ulterior motive in all this that we are just not seeing right now. But he made a mistake tonight by showing his hand."
"Yes, but his hand is far-reaching, from what we witnessed tonight," she remarked, "Did you see those people? They looked...unremarkable. Ordinary. It means this army that the Dominus talked about is significantly larger than I imagined. They could be anywhere, could be anyone."
"Hm," he sat with his brows furrowed in concern, "We need to be more careful now. It's good...now we know that we can't trust anyone else. It's just the two of us."
A smile teased the corner of her lips despite her best intentions and she went to the bathroom to hide it on the pretext of changing into her night-dress. She continued speaking out loud from there, "Do you think the Ministry is using the Mad King's resources to fulfil their own needs? Is that why they wanted to get me? To finish what they started once and for all?"
"No, I don't believe they are working together," he called out, "I still don't think he intends to cause you any harm. Hand you over to the Ministry, maybe, but not kill you."
Coming out of the bathroom, she gave an exaggerated sigh, "Well, even if they intend to do that, they're gonna have to schedule for later, because right now I am starving...and I could do with some sleep, actually..."
Snape voluntarily got up, "Tell me what you want, I'll get it for you."
"No, that's okay, I can get it. I think I saw a vending machine around the corridor..."
"It's not safe for you to go out. I'll do it."
She arched up an eyebrow. "Really? Do you even know how to operate a vending machine?" She smirked when she saw him give her a foolish expression.
"I'll figure it out. How hard can it be?"
They were inches away from the door, arguing, when there came a heavy knock on the door. The both of them jumped and Snape's hand shot out to hold Hermione's arm while his other hand brought out his wand in seconds. Hermione's heartbeats pumped loudly in her ears as she remembered her wand was lying back there on the bed, where she had kept it once she went to the bathroom. They waited with bated breath for any kind of noise, before a voice came from the other side of the door.
"Housekeeping!"
She released the breath she had been holding while Snape replied back somewhat irritatedly, "No, thank you."
After a moment, the voice came again. "I heard you pulled up here late. I can arrange for some food and hot drinks, if you want."
Hermione looked somewhat expectantly towards Snape but she knew what his answer was going to be. "No, we don't need anything. Leave us alone, please."
He persisted, "Are you sure I can't get you anything? Some hot water, mints or...maybe condoms?"
"Get the hell out here!"
It went quiet outside then and they relaxed with Snape letting go of Hermione's arm that he had been holding unknowingly all this time and she let out a scoff, "What kind of housekeeping staff serves at this time of the night? It's so late it's almost early..."
"I don't know," he said, looking suspicious as well, "Did you hear anything? A trolley perhaps, for all the cleaning supplies..."
At that moment, they heard a scratchy noise from somewhere upwards and they glanced up to find a tiny ball of light trying to enter through the air vent. Hermione swooped back to Snape's side, anxious, and his first instinct was to attack it but he hesitated, the both of them watching mesmerized, as it took the form of a shimmering little butterfly, that fluttered down close to them.
From the looks of it, it had been conjured with the help of magic and it could not be possible without the incantation of a witch or wizard. There were protective enchantments on the door so it had been sent from outside through the only way it could enter their small motel room.
"What the- ," But Hermione was silenced by Snape, who eyed it with mistrust, fearing it could be like a ticking bomb, sent in to incapacitate them or set to go off as soon as it was touched.
When none of them agreed to go near it, the butterfly drifted around for a few seconds before giving off a few sparks while transfiguring into a piece of paper, that floated down to the ground, where it lay still and harmless. They were still sceptical about touching it, before Hermione finally gave in and picked it up to read.
The singed piece of paper contained the words:
'The Ravine
The gentlemen's club
9-9:30 pm
Abraham Townsend.'
Before Hermione could even begin to make sense of the words, stricken by surprise as to why and how someone would smuggle them information, Snape, having read the parchment over her shoulder, threw open the door and took off running.
"Severus!"
"Stay there!" He ordered her, as he went haring into the darkness, wand drawn, desperate to follow the one who had just now let that butterfly into the room. She almost started to run after him, but she remembered she had forgotten her wand and lunged for the bed, tossing the pillows about to find it.
Once she managed to get a hold of it, she grabbed it to her chest and ran outside again, guilty that she wasn't following his instructions of staying in the room, but she didn't have to go far. She met Snape at the end of the corridor, on his way back.
"Missed him by a hair," he informed, "Reached a second late at the place from where he kicked off. Could still hear the roar of the engine..."
"So, it's our biker dude?" she asked astonished, "Did you get a look at him?"
"Just caught a glimpse of him around the bend but then I lost him in the dark," he said as they came back to their room, "Took off on his motorbike then. Apparently, it can be set on a lightning-speed setting. I watched him zooming through the air into the night."
"Damn he's fast, and relentless!" Hermione commented, "How did he find us out so quickly? Did he bug us or something?"
Snape was doubtful but said while putting the protective wards back up on the door, "Even if he did, it's illegal. Only the police are allowed to do that and I don't think he works for the Ministry. Otherwise, he would've ratted us out by now."
She scrambled around for the piece of paper that had caused this discord and held it up to read it again. "But why would he give us information about Townsend? Does he want to help us find him? Why would he run away then? Could he really be a friend?"
He took the paper from her and examined it closely himself. "Or that's what he wants us to believe. Otherwise, why would he give us a piece of information that we already have, only pinpointing the exact time and location this time unless he wants us to trust him? What if it's a trap? And he'll herd us right into the hands of the enemy."
She sat on the edge of the bed thinking for some time, till a huge yawn escaped her and she realized she couldn't think any more. She inched her way under the covers while Snape posted himself on the spare bed, saying that he would keep watch for a couple more hours, just to be sure.
Hermione didn't even have the strength to argue anymore, so she closed her eyes and prayed to God to make the rest of the night uneventful- they had had their fill of excitement for one night.
*****************************
Hermione experienced the weird sensation of falling, that people have in their sleep and jerked awake, her hand immediately going for the wand that she had stowed away under her pillow. It was old habits really that made her always keep her wand close by even while sleeping and in this case, it was necessary. But she was still under the covers of that motel bed, where she rolled over and was met by the sight of a sleeping Snape.
He had taken the bed that was closer to the door and she hadn't heard him get under the covers before she had passed out. His sleeping countenance was much relaxed, he seemed to be just in a shirt, with the top two buttons undone and a pale strip of skin could be seen disappearing down the comforter where his chest slightly rose and fell in rhythmic beats.
She tried not to move, as she didn't wanna do anything to disturb him, but tried to match her breathing with his, wanting to gaze at his face for as long as she could. She found herself staring at him long after she had effectively managed to calm herself from the sudden fear that had woken her up, as she lay listening to his breaths coming out in heavy blows, but seemingly making no noise.
There was no indication as to whether he was actually there, other than the fact that Hermione could see him, but he could very well be a figment of her own imagination. After all, never in a million years could she have thought that they would ever find themselves in a position like this! There was only a small gap that was separating the two beds...if she could just reach across...-
It was perhaps the midday ray of the sun that sneaked its way into their chambers and fell on his face, or he somehow felt a pair of eyes ogling at him, but Snape's face suddenly showed signs of movement and his eyes fluttered open. Hermione had to quickly pretend like she had woken up just a few seconds before him, albeit acting terribly, but she quickly jumped off of the bed and ran for the bathroom.
She did not wish for him to find out that she had been taking advantage of him the first time he had ever let her see him in a state of vulnerability. She was just in time to catch him buttoning his shirt back up and swinging his legs off the bed and she found herself stalling again, as he stood up and stretched, the fabric clinging to the muscles of his back in a delectable fashion. But before long he put his coat back on with a flourish.
Childishly, she wished she could hide away his coat someday, so that he would have to roam around in just that shirt that clung to his body. She wondered if her thoughts were loud enough for him to hear, as he turned sharply towards her while buttoning his coat tightly all the way up- as if to halt further probation. Again she quickly pretended that she hadn't been looking, but these close confines of the motel room suddenly felt too hot for her.
Hermione wanted to go to the diner out front to eat lunch but Snape thought it would be a good idea to get room service that day. They were going to seek out the place that the biker dude had told them about and see for themselves whether Abraham Towsend visited the place as the Dominus had said. They wanted to scope out the area before they actually planned on a way to apprehend him. They had both freshened up when the food arrived and they spent most of the meal time debating how to go about the business and who would get to go out and who would have to stay back.
Needless to say, Hermione lost that debate, because even she could not argue with the fact that she was at a higher risk of exposure, since they were not even using polyjuice potion. In the end, she had to begrudgingly agree that it was Snape who should go searching for the club wearing a disguise and see if he could get more information from people who frequented the place.
"I'm practically unrecognisable," he proudly remarked, having transfigured his clothes into denim jacket, shirt, jeans, baseball cap and sunglasses. Hermione rolled her eyes, "If that's your idea of how muggles dress, then we are done for!"
She had an idea then, and the next thirty minutes she spent enchanting her way into occupied rooms around the motel that were vacant at the time and stealing pieces of clothing. "I borrowed them," she said in reply to Snape's look of incredulity and forced him to put them on, effectively hiding his identity. "Now go. And be careful."
He came back late, more excited than usual to tell her everything that he had seen- he had laid eyes on the man himself and had even made a note of his habits. They deviced their plans for the next day, pitching and scrapping ideas well into the night.
Hermione realized it was going to be another long night of waiting and she threw open the covers, not ten minutes after they had gone to bed. "Ugh! I can't sleep!"
Snape rolled his eyes, but he knew he wasn't going to catch any sleep with Hermione all jittery beside him. Sighing, he went up to see whether he had any sleep-inducement potions in his pouch but Hermione bounded up to him. "You got any alcohol in there?"
"Don't," he scolded, as she tried to rummage through it herself, then reconsidered, "Fuck it, let's have some."
He took out a slender bottle from inside and popped it open, collecting the two glasses that were set on the table, but Hermione had already taken a swig from the bottle itself.
"Ooh, that's good," she said, "You know, I would've remarked on how you forgot to pack anything of importance but you didn't forget the booze, however, right now, I need it."
He gave a mock smile. "And you're welcome, Granger. But go easy on that- it's elvish-made finest red. A little of it can make you a lot drunk."
She took another big swig even as she plopped down on the carpet in front of their beds. She conjured up a ball of fire from old newspapers and let it hover in the air, giving off heat. Snape joined her on the floor, taking sips of his own, leaning on the bed-frame. The papers displayed news of unexplained muggle disappearances and political unrest.
"You know, I haven't had a proper drink since...well for many months now." She said, staring into the fire that was consuming the papers. "I actually swore I wouldn't drink till I've got some answers at least. I was thinking about it today, while you were gone," she said looking at him. "Why I started. Why I have to finish this. Now, I know it won't be all over tomorrow but hopefully, we would get a lot of answers. I feel like shaking him and asking him who was behind all this. I'm actually glad I didn't go out with you today. Cause if I saw him tonight, I don't think I could've stopped myself from attacking him then and there."
Snape took the bottle from her and followed her example by taking a swig. "You did manage to slap the shit out of Malfoy, or so I heard."
She laughed. "Ron used to say I'm quite unpredictable. He was...wary of it himself."
Her cheeks had become rosy partly from the wine, partly from her laughter but her eyes were misty. He gazed upon her face, illuminated by the fire and he saw her expression change from happiness to sadness within the span of a few seconds. He blamed the booze, but he saw a little bit of himself in her- the irritating girl he had professed to detest, the brave intellect he had admired even as he tried to deny it. There was something of determination and recklessness in her eyes, but also an emptiness that reminded him of all Voldemort had taken from him.
"You still miss him."
She smiled again wearily. "Of course I miss him." She took another swig from the bottle. The glasses lay forgotten now as they took turns on the bottle. "I loved him. He was my husband for two years, and my friend for ten before that." She tipped her head up, looking at the vacant ceiling, lost in thought. "But, I dunno, missing him hurts...less now. It feels...most of the time, like missing him is okay." She remarked. "I'm not saying I'm moving on right now, but I think I have fulfilled my quota of crying and right now there's bigger fish to fry."
Snape didn't reply, just chugged some more wine as the flames sputtered and hissed in the silence. She looked down, looked at him, and judged his mood.
"What about you?" She asked tentatively, knowing she was treading on sensitive grounds, but the alcohol had given her more confidence. "Do you...miss her still?"
His face, barely visible in the darkness, went tense and still. She thought, at first that he would refuse to answer. "I don't..." He sighed, reconsidering. She realized she had become so sensitized to the nuances in his body that she could see the moment when he decided that she deserved an answer.
"No, I don't...miss her anymore." As he said the words, he had the realization that they were true. "I feel...complete about it now. The pain I felt, the total agony...It's gone, has been for some time." He looked up at her with those unreadable eyes. "But I probably can't claim to say that I know what it feels like to lose a spouse. She wasn't my wife. She was- she was never mine."
Hermione felt her heart contract in sympathy. Losing Ron had been awful...but never to have had him? It would have been far far worse.
She took a chance and reached out to lay her hand on top of his.
"I'm so sorry, Severus."
After a moment, Snape looked at her and nodded. "Thank you, Hermione."
After that, the two of them kind of let go and finished that bottle, only to have brought out a second. And they indulged in some laughter, and the questions got, if not easier, at least smoother with each other.
"But why him? Potter I could understand, but Weasley? The two of you always seemed...incongruous to me."
Hermione tipped her head back and laughed. "You weren't the only one. Gods, Severus, who knows? I knew there was something between us all along. Harry was my friend, my brother. Completely platonic. And Ron never was. From the day I met him, he was different. He was just..." She threw her hands up in exasperation. "He wasn't like anyone I had ever met."
"And it worked? You lived with him, and did not fantasize about ways of killing him?" he teased.
Hermione hooted. "Well, of course, I fantasized about killing him sometimes! He was my husband. But most of the time he made me feel treasured, and wanted, and safe, and he made me laugh until my sides hurt. He kept me from taking life too seriously. And when the chips were down, when I needed him, when I really needed him- he would be there, even when he really couldn't understand what the hell was wrong with me." She looked at Severus. "It just...worked."
He watched her talk of him, watched the emotions flash and fade one after another, but over it all, he saw a layer of...contentment.
He thought about it for some time. "It does not make you sad to talk about him? Does speaking of him not remind you of your loss?"
"Gods, no. I mean, I'd never forget, so I can't be reminded. And you know what? It actually feels great to talk about him. It's like honouring his memory. He is a part of who I am now. And he will always be- if and when I decide to move on."
He looked at her radiant face and resolved to ask more questions about the redheaded menace in the future. For the time being, they had to focus on what was to come, or as she said, they had bigger fish to fry.