Disclaimer: This is story is unofficial and written not for profit. It is in no way connected with J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books or Bloomsbury Publishing or Warner Bros. It is not endorsed by any of the aforementioned parties. Rights to characters and places is neither claimed nor implied.
A huge thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story so far. I am very sorry that you have had to wait so long for this next chapter. I misplaced the notebook that had the plot and all my ideas for the story written in it (the house was being redecorated.) I just found it in the bottom of a box - so I thought I should start updating this story again!
Chapter Seven -
Radio Activity
A second knock resonated through the room. The silence that followed seemed to heighten Hermione's senses. Her nerves were on edge as she cautiously she glanced at Snape. His cold eyes glared back at her; his face was as stony and unreadable as ever. The fire made a sudden crackle, instinctively Hermione flinched. In that split second, she was uprooted from the settee and found herself pulled off-balance and tumbling towards the kitchen door. Snape's hand gripped her arm tightly, simultaneously he somehow managed to propel her forward and keep her on her feet (although somewhat precariously.)
The kitchen door banged open, Hermione toppled into the room, barrelling into the kitchen table as Snape released his hold. The tray whizzed in behind them through the open doorway, quickly followed by the dinner plates and tea cups. They landed on the table with a clunk. Looking up, Hermione saw that Snape wand was pointed at an old radio on that sat on the countertop. Turning fluidly, he then flourished his wand once more, this time it was aimed at the sink. Almost instantaneously, the melodic droning of a Weird Sisters ballad filled the air and the tap spluttered into life, forcing a gush of steaming water to spray out into the sink.
"Make yourself useful girl," ordered Snape. "These dishes won't wash themselves."
With that, he turned on his heel, making his inky black robes whirl as he strode out of the room.
As Snape passed through the doorway, he paused, mid stride.
"And don't think about doing anything foolish." He cautioned. With that he turned his head back so he could look directly at Hermione. "I do not want a repeat of your earlier, thoughtless actions... the consequences... I can assure you, would not be to your liking."
Snape sneered at her, punctuating his statement with flick his wand.
Before Hermione could respond, the kitchen door slammed closed; wood grain replacing the view of her former professor.
As the haunting tones of a Gideon Crumb bagpipe solo emanated from the radio, Hermione steadied herself, released her grip on the table, and took a deep breath. Still stunned by her sudden ejection from the room, she glanced at the door. Snape's renewed warnings echoed through her head.
It was clear that Snape didn't want her to see who it was at the door. From his reaction, it was obviously not been expecting anyone or at least not until later. Perhaps he also didn't want the visitor - whoever that was - to see her, she reasoned. Even from her limited experience around Death Eaters she could see there were clearly a lot of internal politics at work. To Hermione it also seemed that politically, Snape clearly had the upper hand at the moment. She certainly wouldn't be here if Bellatrix Lestrange had her way. If anything, this notion made Hermione even more curious about the visitor's identity.
Cautiously, Hermione crept towards the door. She knew it was foolish, Snape had stated that much, but if she could find something, some way to escape, it was worth the risk. Wasn't it? Initially, she could hear the murmur of voices, but as she got closer her ears began to fill with a curiously unidentifiable buzzing sound. Hermione sighed. Behind her the bagpipe solo on the radio droned on, filling the kitchen with a maligned sense of disenchantment. Snape must have cast a Muffliato charm to prevent her from eavesdropping. Was she really that predictable?
Working on the assumption that Snape had secured the door, Hermione resigned herself to the situation. She just had to accept her inevitable ignorance of whatever it was that was unfolding in the other room. Anyway, it would be really stupid to just walk in on Snape and his 'guest'- whoever it is. For all she knew, it could be Mr. Malfoy or Bellatrix Lestrange again. Hermione categorically did not want to see either of them anytime soon!
Feeling momentarily unsure of what to do, Hermione stepped backwards. Inadvertently, she stumbled and fell into the side of the table again. The past twenty four hours just seemed to echo with a sense of déjà vu, intermittent peril and views of closed doors.
The jolt shook the table slightly causing her teacup to topple over, spilling its content onto the surface; the tea began to drip down onto the floor. Instinctively, she grabbed a cloth that had been left by the sink and began to clear up the spillage.
Hermione picked up the teacup and examined the inscription on its base once more. It was definitely the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. How did it come to be printed on a teacup?... of all things! She read the inscription again: "Ignatious Pottery – Godric's Hollow." Potters in Godric's hollow – how ironic, thought Hermione with a roll of her eyes.
As the bagpipe solo finally rallied to its dramatic, if dirge-like conclusion, Hermione was drawn from her thoughts; noticing that the sink was about to overflow. She scampered over to the sink and hurriedly turned off the tap. Sinking to the floor, Hermione put her head in her hands. With her nerves this on edge, even an overflowing sink was cause for panic.
"Pull yourself together," Hermione said out loud. "THINK! There must be something you can do..."
"THINK!" she ordered herself.
She brushed the dust from her robes as she stood up. Scanning the kitchen she searched for something... anything that could be useful. For the most part, the kitchen, although rather shabby was incredibly ordinary. In an attempt that she knew would be futile; she went over to the back door and twisted the handle. The lock rattled but the door wouldn't budge. It was then that she remembered the wand.
She pulled the wand out of her pocket, pointed it at the lock.
"Alohamora" she whispered.
There was a scraping sound of metal on metal from the lock, and the door rattled. Surely, she thought, Snape would not have been so remiss in securing his house. Would he?
"Yeah, it's hard, you must be brave, Don't let this moment slip away,"* Myron Wagtail's voice reverberation from the radio's speakers.
The lyrics from the Weird Sisters song seemed to resonate with Hermione. This was her chance for freedom, the time to escape. She didn't know where she would go... anywhere... somewhere safe!
The door made a final shudder, the lock rattled and settled solidly back in place.
"Don't let this magic die... The answer's there, Oh, just look in her eyes,*" Wagtail warbled on.
In desperation, Hermione grabbed the door handle and rattled it. Snape's wards had held fast. She pointed her wand at the lock once more.
"Alohamora" she muttered. "Alohamora, Alohamora, Alohamora!" each time she uttered it with increasing intensity.
The door creaked and rattled but it wouldn't budge. Hermione grabbed the handle again, but it was hopeless. The frustration made her feel like she could scream, but that would clearly be unwise.
The music played on: "And don't believe that magic can die... No, no, no, this magic can't die*"
Acting on instinct, she ran back to the sink, reaching over she pulled at the latch on the kitchen window. "Alohamora," she mumbled, pointing the wand at the window, but it was no use. Had she really thought that it would be that easy to escape? Hermione couldn't believe how foolish she was being. Sighing, she placed her hand on the cold glass.
Hermione gazed longingly out the kitchen window as The Wierd Sisters song reached its conclusion with Wagtail's haunting vocals.
"So dance your final dance, Cause this is your final chance,*" his voice resonated through the kitchen.
As the song ended, there was a smattering of applause from the people at the radio station.
"Well then, that was The Weird Sisters, playing here, especially for our lovely listeners across wizarding Britain and beyond," stated a rather excitable presenter.
Hermione stared through the glass at the dreary flagstones of the small courtyard. It was strange how such a depressing view could have the power to create such a sense of longing. It seemed as if freedom was just a couple of impossible steps away.
Dejected, Hermione chose to follow Snape's instructions and do the dishes. She slipped the wand back into her pocket and picked up a plate. Accepting that for the moment, there was no escape; she decided to try to keep Snape happy – perhaps not happy... well, she decided to try not to irritate him. Although he hadn't exactly been nice to her, he hadn't harmed her; in fact for a Death Eater, he had been positively nice to her. To what end, she wasn't sure. All that she was certain of, was that she could be in a far worse situation.
"This is not my final chance!" Hermione whispered to herself. "This is just a temporary setback – that's all."
A few errant twangs and clunking noises came across the radio waves as the band members were encouraged to join in with the discussion.
"Thanks quys! It has been awesome having you playing live for us! That was a nice bit of improvisation on the bagpipe there, Gideon!" said the presenter. Hermione was beginning to find the witch's excitable tone rather grating. Sloshing soapy water over the plates, Hermione began to wash away the evidence of the meal that she had shared with Snape.
"Thanks for having us- It's been magic!" replied an unnamed member of the band. This was followed by the other band members expressing their agreement and thanks to the presenter.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen! Thanks for listening. That was the incendiary Weird Sisters! They will be performing at the Gobstones International Gathering next week... A much anticipated event!" Her spiel paused momentarily, for a much needed breath, before continuing to flow at its fast pace.
Hermione sighed, soapy water sloshed around the washing up bowl as she immersed a tea cup. It felt so wrong; the wizarding world was falling apart, they were at war with a red eyed maniac, and yet the radio still spewed the same popular drivel and international gobstone enthusiasts were still having their annual get together next week. Nevertheless, Hermione surmised that the turnout at the event wouldn't be breaking any records, thanks to the new muggle-born registration acts that the wizamot had passed.
"Well, that is all for now! I've been Glenda Chittock and this has been the Witching Hour. Tune in again, this time next week when Celestina Warbeck will be entertaining us with music from her delightful new album."
"Next we will go over to our newsroom for an update on the latest stories... But first, a message from Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment-Britain's favourite supplier of wizarding wares!"
Hermione reached over to switch the radio off, soap bubbles dripped from her fingers onto the countertop. These days the radio just propagated the ministry's pure-blood propaganda; the news would hold very little of interest and even less in the way of truth. Just as her fingers touched the dial on the radio, a thought occurred to Hermione. She paused; would it really be possible?
Hermione glanced back at the door to the living room; momentarily, she was in two minds about how to proceed. Of course, she would try any means possible to escape, but would it really be worth it- defying Snape – for the slim possibility of some hearing some news? It would be good to hear some real news about Harry, Ron and the Order. She needed to be careful.
"This weekend only... pewter cauldrons: from only ten Galleons ...come in and discover our magical offers for yourself!" gushed the salesman.
Cautiously, Hermione withdrew the old wand from her robe pocket. She glanced back at the door; half expecting Snape to come bursting through at any moment. Hopefully, the wand wouldn't fail her.
Pointing the wand towards the radio, she tapped it once and muttered "Mad-Eye."
The airwaves buzzed with white noise as the dial twirled back and forth. The radio went silent and then suddenly, a voice broke through.
"... Isn't that right Ro... I mean Rapier!"
"Yes, Romulus, I have to agree. In a situation like that, I think it would be handy to have a pocket full of instant darkness powder and a few dungbombs. Even though the Chief Death Eater doesn't have a nose, his followers do!"
There was a moment's quiet before another voice cut through the airwaves.
"Now, a word of warning for individuals in the South West of the country," said a voice that sounded distinctly like it belonged to Kingsley Shacklebolt. "There have been a number of alleged sightings of the elusive Mr. Harry Potter in that area. As a result, this has attracted a large number of Snatchers and followers of the Chief Death Eater. We would advise our listeners in the Plymouth area to be particularly cautious at this time – so please be vigilant and take care!"
"Plymouth?" thought Hermione. "What would Harry be doing near Plymouth?" It really didn't seem to be an obvious choice. During the Easter holidays, Cornwall would be filled with muggle tourists visiting the seaside, eating pasties and enjoying cream teas. Harry would never put that many oblivious muggles at risk. That was why they had chosen reasonably isolated locations as places to camp. Then again, things would be more difficult for Ron and Harry now that they no longer had the tent.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have no conclusive evidence with regard to these rumours. Whether lightning has struck in this location has yet to be determined," stated Lee Jordan.
"We are only able to verify that some sort of incident has occurred, and it is this, that has made the Snatchers rather restless and put the Death Eaters in a state of high alert," confirmed Kingsley
"Wherever you are Harry, if you are listening, remember to stay safe and that you have friends." said Remus.
A weak smile spread across Hermione's face. There was still hope.
"Due to the high amount of Death Eater and Snatcher activity at the moment, we would like to remind you to look out for your Muggle friends and neighbours. Protective charms save lives! We are all human, and although Muggles are unaware of the cause, they too are suffering," Kingsley chimed back in.
"Despite all this activity, there is still no news about the Chief Death Eater," said Lee Jordan. "All the rumours seem to indicate that he is still somewhere on the continent."
"Probably still having a nice break somewhere..." sniggered Fred. "Yeah, all that time taking over the ministry... probably needed a nice rest..."
Fred and Lee Jordan had clearly expanded their repertoire of nose related humour. There was something ironic about standing in the kitchen of one of Lord Voldemort's most trusted followers, while listening to jokes about the maniac's diminished senses and potential problems with body odour.
Changing the tone significantly, Remus then announced, "Thank you River, Rapier.. . Now, we would like to take a moment to remember those who are missing and those who have died in recent months..."
Hermione stood in silence as a long list of names were read out. Sadness swept over Hermione as she heard those she recognised; friends, classmates and members of the order. There were just so many people... she wondered if her name would be added to that list. Gradually, Hermione's thoughts drifted back to her own situation.
"... Remember, wherever you are, to be on the look-out for Snatchers," reminded Kinsley as the show began to come to a close.
"Keep showing your loyalty to our lightning-scared champion by listening to...
POTTERWATCH!"
"All there is to do now is to thank our listeners. As we are unable to tell when it will be possible to for us to broadcast again, please keep twiddling those dials! We assure you that we will be back on air and keeping you up-to-date. The next password is Alice***. So take care and stay safe. Good night"
Lee Jordan's voice seemed to fade away, leaving a silent echo in Hermione's mind.
Hermione tapped the radio with the wand. The dial whirled; once again filling the airwaves with a buzz of white noise. It settled on a Quidditch programme. The presenter was in the middle of a diatribe about the history of the Dangerous Dai Commemorative Award****.
"...we often find that the most dangerous and foolhardy risks taken by players are the game changers. Impulsive decisions and the subsequent precarious acts that are undertaken by daring players... have often facilitated a triumph for a team that, for all intents and purpose, had been considered to be the underdog..."
Hermione sighed as she slowly slipped the wand back into her pocket and picked up a saucer.
"I remember in the quarter-finals of the 1966 Quidditch world cup - a particularly spectacular move was pulled off by a young Australian chaser..."
This would be her secret; Snape would never have to know about Potterwatch or the wand. She just had to keep quiet and finish the dishes. The little spark of hope inside Hermione glowed a little brighter. It was going to be hard, but she was brave and now she was a lot to think about.
*lyrics from the song Magic Works by The Weird Sisters wiki/Magic_Works (Apparently this song can be heard on the credits for the film adaptation of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.)
** wiki/Potterwatch
*** I read a piece that said that the potterwatch passwords appeared to reflect the state of mind/position of Harry et al. I liked the logic pattern that followed. The password 'Albus' – meaning white – was used when things were very bleak. Similarly, 'Mad-Eye' was used just before the snatchers caught them – when they really needed to be vigilant! The password I have chosen follows in this pattern – 'Alice' – after Alice Longbottom – as an Auror and Member of the Order she was clearly a powerful and brave witch. Also, it links into how lost/confused Hermione is feeling (just like Lewis Carroll's Alice did when she fell down the rabbit hole.)
****Mentioned in Quidditch Through The Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp (Red Nose Day Charity Edition)