Look at that! Part 4
Rodolphus Lestrange
Author's note: A reader, LilMissPinkChink, asked whether Thorfinn Rowles revelations and later Hermione's research would lead to an amendment of the Stunpike Bill (Look at that! Part 3). A too important suggestion not to take it up. This little one-shot is dedicated to LilMissPinkChink!
March 20th, 2005
After learning from Thorfinn Rowle about the necessity for magical beings to be in contact with other magical beings Hermione Granger had done a lot of research. In the following decades that would lead to a much smoother integration of Muggleborns, as they too needed contact with magic. Magical sponsors were assigned to families of Muggleborns and thus their needs met.
The Death Eater parolees still presented a problem, though. The Wizengamot would not allow family members to sponsor or even house them and also did not budge on its stance concerning former Death Eaters, who had been paroled earlier. There were some followers of Voldemort who had joined rather late in the war, often due to mitigating circumstances like threats on their families, and who had not committed any serious crimes. For those the MLE office found sponsors rather easily. When the last Death Eaters from the First Vold War were up for parole – made possible again by the trials in the wake of the Stunpike Bill – their placement was difficult. The Lestrange brothers were still notorious. There were extenuating circumstances, though, brought to light under Veritaserum during their re-trials. Rabastan, the younger one, had been out of Hogwarts for half a year when the attack on the Longbottoms had happened. He admitted to participating in the torture of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, drunk on Dark Magic and heavily indoctrinated by his father, who had died during a raid two weeks earlier. But the younger Lestrange – still under Veritaserum – had also, without prompting, told the court of his grief and guilt. His elder brother Rodolphus had only been at the Longbottoms for a few minutes before the Aurors. Memories and questioning with Veritaserum confirmed that he had gone after his wife and brother after coming home from the Wizengamot with the express wish to stop them. The only spells the elder Lestrange had cast at Longbottom manor were such to distract his wife and draw her attention upon himself, away from Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Had he had a trial then Rodolphus Lestrange most likely would not have gone to Azkaban at all. Hermione suspected that he did not want to leave his younger brother alone, or possibly not even his then already mad wife. Accounts of the man's personality wavered but friend or foe were in accordance that he was the most loyal person since Helga Hufflepuff. And now no one was ready to house him. Rabastan Lestrange was to live with Xeno and Luna Lovegood. The family would have welcomed Rodolphus as well but two marked persons could not cohabitate in the same household.
Hermione was already contemplating to offer sponsoring the parolee when she was asked – or rather ordered - to visit Griphook at Gringotts. The goblin was not eligible for taking a parolee but offered the young witch a deal: as he was very grateful for the Lestranges' help during his incarceration at Malfoy Manor he asked Hermione to house Rodolphus in exchange for her becoming a friend of the Goblin nation again. A status she had lost after breaking the dragon free during the war. Hermione wanted to hear Neville's opinion about the plan first but was ready to agree.
Therefore – the Longbottom heir was agreeing with Hermione's plan despite his grandmother's reservations – a week later the young witch was waiting in the guard's room in Azkaban. A tall and thin man in simple robes entered with a warden. He exuded such a defeated air that neither was he bound with anything nor had the guard his wand out. Hermione sent a questioning glance at the clerk who had prepared the release papers.
"Never had a moment of trouble with that one, Ma'am. Only ever when his wife miscarried. But then he'd rather hurt himself than anyone else."
The young witch gasped at this blatant breach of privacy and Lestrange seemed to sink into himself even further. She signed the papers quickly and shoved them over to the prisoner who put his signature down with shaking hands. Hermione pocketed her copies, nodded to the guards and the clerk and turned to the parolee.
"Mr Lestrange, my name is Hermione Granger. Please come with me."
Outside she drew a breath. Looking at her companion squinting against the sun she conjured sunglasses and offered them to Lestrange.
"Is it all right for you if we postpone talking about our situation until we are back on the shore?"
He had to clear his throat twice before his voice was audible, "Of course, Miss Granger."
They made their way towards the only dock of the island where a small boat was moored, it's captain napping in the stern as it buoyed in the waves.
"Captain! We would like to go back to the shore!"
The man tucked on his forelock and said, "Right-o, Missus. Please sit in the middle of the bench unless you want to get wet." Said bench was only four feet long, therefore Hermione and her companion were sitting rather close. Which was why the witch noticed quickly that Lestrange was slipping into a panic attack. She pressed her knee against his and slipped her arm around his back, touching him only very lightly lest he got even more spooked.
"Breath with me, in and out, two, three, in and out, two, three. There, you are doing well, just concentrate on my voice, in and out." Gradually the parolee calmed down and soon they were nearing the dock on the mainland. Hermione thanked the captain and alighted. Lestrange stumbled on the shore and then dashed towards some shrubs where he was violently sick. Luna had prepared her somewhat what to expect. Since Rabastan had come to live with the Lovegoods the house had now a Muggle telephone in the shed. Until now that had been used for the younger Lestrange to talk to his old friends Rowle and Dolohov. This morning Rabastan was waiting in the shed to talk to his brother. Hermione offered a bottle of water and a mint before opening her mobile phone.
"Mr Lestrange, this is a mobile telephone. I am going to call your brother, he is waiting to talk to you."
Rodolphus' dark brown eyes grew huge in his gaunt face and he nodded. The witch dialled and the receiver on the other end was picked up on the first ring.
"Roddy?"
"A moment, Mr Lestrange." Hermione handed the phone over to her companion and walked a few steps to give him privacy. Rabastan had told Hermione that his elder brother had always looked out for him and that he felt guilty over not protecting him better. From what the young witch had read in the trial transcripts the elder Lestrange had tried hard to prevent his younger brother from joining the Death Eaters and also curb his wife's excesses.
Lost looking at the waves she did not know how much time had passed until Lestrange handed her back her phone. His eyes were red and his voice even rougher than before, "Thank you, Miss Granger."
"You're welcome. Would you like to go to my house first or shall we pick up a wand for you in Diagon Alley?"
He looked overwhelmed with this simple choice.
"The others have told me that having a wand again helped, even if it is restricted. But we can go tomorrow morning as well, or later today, if you want to get settled first."
As no answer came Hermione decided, "Right. I want to go home to change out of these clothes. I am going to Apparate with you."
She took his offered underarm and landed them in the utility room of her parents' house. Lestrange took a few breaths with closed eyes and nodded then at her. The young witch took her guest upstairs into her old childhood room. It overlooked the garden. On the bed she had prepared clothes from her father.
"I will be in the kitchen. Lunch should be ready in about forty minutes. There are self-sizing charms on the clothes and you should find everything you'll need in the bathroom."
The defeated air had not left the parolee but he looked into Hermione's eyes for the first time and she meant to detect a very small glimmer in them, like the last ember of a dying fire.
"Thank you, Miss Granger, you are most kind."
"You're welcome."
Downstairs the young witch pondered whether she hadn't taken on a mission that was bound to fail. Hermione started cutting up potatoes and vegetables for a thick soup. Rabastan had warned her that a too rich fare would overtax his brother's digestive system after more than a decade of gruel and bubble'n'squeak. Lestrange came down after half an hour, hair still wet, and offered to help. The witch let him set the table and cut the bread while she seasoned the soup.
"I have a half-bottle of champagne if you want to celebrate. Or we safe it for when you can meet your brother."
"I am not supposed to meet anyone marked."
"Well, yes, but I think it is beyond cruel that you cannot see your own brother. Harry is looking into how that rule is observed – is it proximity of the marks or is it linked to your magical signature? As a last ressort we thought of using magic dampeners." Seeing her guest getting more and more tense again Hermione hurried to continue, "But nothing will be done without your input and consent. Sorry, when I am nervous I tend to babble."
"Thank you again for your consideration."
"That is all your brother's doing. He is planning since he learned the date of your release, I merely put him in contact with Harry."
"Harry Potter?"
"The same. He is Head Auror now."
"Why would he help Death Eaters?"
"You know that his godfather Sirius Black spent 12 years in Azkaban without a trial? Harry has used his influence for getting all convictions and incarcerations of the last wars checked. He was appalled how some of you were treated. History is written by the winners. If Dumbledore was still alive he would have to answer a whole lot of unpleasant questions."
"The Dark Lord would not have been merciful."
"No, but I think some of the more rational minded of his followers would have gotten rid of him before he managed to eradicate the whole of wizarding Britain."
"You are right, there had been plans even before his first downfall. I do not know a lot about it, due to my proximity to Bellatrix and my less than stellar abilities at Occlumency, but Flora Yaxley had everything planned."
"Ha! I already thought of giving her my support when she eventually runs for Minister. Kingsley is making noises of retiring."
"Mhm. The soup is wonderful."
"You're welcome. Are you up to a trip to Olivander's?"
"Would it be possible to visit a Muggle hairdresser first?"
"Of course. And we should get shoes for you as well, I was told that sizing charms on those are most likely to fail quickly."
The trip to the hairdresser and Diagon Alley was done as quickly as possible. Thankfully no-one had noticed the pair. Back at home Hermione explained the use of the telephone to her houseguest and showed him how to call his brother and how to answer calls. The weekend was spent exploring her garden and books. Lestrange offered to try cooking when he heard about the witch's usual workhours.
The next few weeks went quite well. Rodolphus – by now they were calling each other by their first names – was a better cook than she and a rather gifted gardener. His mornings were spent with gardening and reading before he started dinner. One bump in the road was that he got rashes from Mr Granger's clothes. Wizarding clothes were fine, some shirts of Hermione's father, too, but with other articles Rod's skin got red and itchy. Determined to find a reason he poured over the witch's Muggle chemistry books as well as books on wizarding culture. And had one wall of Hermione's old bedroom covered with reference charts. After two weeks it was fairly sure that his skin tolerated silk, wool and linen. Cotton was all right, too, if it was Egyptian. After obtaining permission from Hermione Lestrange went through her parents' clothes item by item. Somehow she had not managed to do this herself. She selected a few pieces of sentimental value – her father's old varsity rugby jersey, some vintage jackets of her mother – and gave Rod free rein for the rest.
The man even unearthed her mother's sparsely used sewing machine and began to alter the clothes he found: sleepwear or jogging pants with an elastic band got a drawstring, linen shirts with decorative plastic buttons got new mother-of-pearl buttons etc.
Hermione watched the development with quiet amusement and hoped that these projects somehow helped her houseguest to find his feet again. Harry and she still hadn't found a loophole for making it possible for the brothers to see each other again in person and while the Lestranges talked on the phone daily the fact weighted on Rodolphus.
One early afternoon, the witch was in the middle of preparing a presentation, the ceiling in her office began to rain. Shielding charms only worked for minutes against the continuing torrent and finally the whole department was sent home until maintenance would sort out the climate charms in this part of the ministry. On a whim Hermione picked up some pastries and went home. It was a nice and balmy May afternoon. She looked forward to maybe having dinner on the terrace in the backgarden.
Shucking off her office shoes and wriggling her toes the young woman listened for her housemate. BBC Radio 4 was running, a documentary about Afghanistan presumably. On stockings her feet made no sound. Turning into the dining room she gasped.
"Look at that! You look really good in pale pink!"
Rod was sitting at the dining room table, sewing some mother-of-pearl buttons onto one of her father's night shirts. He was wearing a pale pink silk tunic her mother had bought once on a whim holidaying in France. And from the look of it against the afternoon sun nothing else.
"Oh, hi, Hermione. Dinner's not yet ready, but there's some salad in the fridge."
"Thank you, I've had lunch. And I brought pastries if you'd like them for desert. Or with coffee right now."
Hermione knew that the wizarding world, for all its sometimes Victorian constraints concerning class and manners, was rather more open to nudity than the Muggle world. Quite a few of the old rituals were to be performed naked, a lot of potions had to be brewed with bare feet as well as it was said to enhance some classes of charms. Rod moved around unabashedly in the silk shift, not caring that the light made the fabric near diaphanous. Hermione could see the dark reddish hairs on his chest disappear in a dark trail down. When he turned around to the coffee maker she detected a playful dragon tattoo on his right shoulderblade.
They had coffee and pastries in the back garden, the early May sun highlighting the reddish hue in his dark hair.
For dinner Hermione's houseguest – flatmate? – was once against dressed in slacks, a shirt and a blazer. She decided to ask after the tunic, knowing that it would stay in her mind anyway.
"Oh that? I like its feel. It is silk and dyed naturally. But of course I will dress properly for dinner."
"There is a way to dye something pink with natural dyes?" Hermione remembered her mother's experiments with walnuts – a ghastly brown – and onion skins – a sickly yellow.
"Yes, reddish hues are achieved quite easily. The tunic is made with lichen, cladonia cristatella, which is also a potions ingredient. Maybe that's why I like to wear it so much."
The witch scrunched her nose.
"I have never come across that particular lichen during potions."
Rod laughed, a truly nice sound.
"I would imagine Severus did not teach beautifying potions. As far as I know it is only used there and in dyeing. I would not know about it if not my family owing several wool mills."
Hermione grew pensieve.
"Besides Colin Creevey, a fellow Gryffindor much too young to die in a war, Snape's death is what bothers me most about that time. It was truly horrible, seeing that snake tear his throat."
Rod startled.
"What do you mean – Severus is dead?"
"Well, when we went back to the Shrieking Shack there was no body. It was assumed that fleeing Death Eaters had taken it in revenge for his treason. His headmaster's portrait has never woken up. They think that is because he wasn't appointed the usual way."
Now the man looked at her with something like pity.
"Hermione, you told me that Hogwarts A History is your favourite wizarding book. Think! Hogwarts is sentient. Was not Umbridge, who was appointed by the board of governors, albeit after some pressure by the ministry, but she was appointed the usual way, denied entry to the Head office?"
The young woman experienced several epiphanies at once. She slapped her forhead.
"What an absolute dunderhead I've been! Professor Snape was right, I do not think independently enough! Umbridge could never enter the head office, Snape could. The DA members hiding in the Room of Requirement told afterwards that the castle seemed to protect them from the Carrows by swinging stairs or closing hallways. That would not have been possible without the headmaster's knowledge! And he sent them for detentions with Hagrid, anything more and he would have been serving them tea and biscuits! Rodolphus, I do know that history is written by the winners, that Gryffindors rarely look beyond the surface. I foolishly thought that I had outgrown that particular trait somewhat."
"You are getting there, don't worry. Now go on with your deductions. And maybe remember Sev's opening speech. And the number of patents he holds."
Her brow furrowed, then she used her fingers to tick her conclusions off, "First, Hogwarts considered Professor Snape as rightful headmaster, the portrait should have woken up if he was dead. Second, if one is fleeing from a battleground there's no time to desecrate a body. Third, no one besides Voldemort, Harry, Ron and I knew where the body was. – You really think that he is alive? Why hasn't he come forward? He would be lauded a hero on par with Harry!"
Rod only smirked. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.
"Right. He wasn't one for the spotlight, I get that. And after Harry's speech about him and Lily Potter… I guess he is a very private man and wouldn't want to be accosted as a romantic hero by swooning women. Do you know how to reach him?"
"No, I don't. But I guess he is not far off. Maybe somewhere on the continent, or living as a Muggle in England even. Not overseas, I think, otherwise it would have been too complicated to tamper with the oats delivered to Azkaban."
"You've lost me, I am afraid."
He gestured along his body.
"How do you think I look comparatively healthy? About a month into my second incarceration I noticed that the oats used for the porridge they serve twice a day in Azkaban were saturated with a very potent nutrition potion. My great-uncle bred price-bulls, there is a potion to make them grow faster and bigger. Rab and I tried the potion on a dare and to impress some girls with our muscles. It worked but had an interesting side effect, for about two hours after ingestion one can only see colours in hues of yellow and blue. That's how I realised why most inmates felt better, had more stamina during our workouts. The only person doing something like this I can imagine is Severus."
"But why would he do that? You were on different sides of the war. – No, wait, that was a rather onedimensional line of thought."
"Indeed it is. Very few of the Death Eaters were beyond redemption. As young men or still children we joined a movement aimed at preserving our way of living. That might have been arrogant and thoughtless but surely not evil. Don't tell the ministry but with everything I have learned here about Muggle technology I think that a stricter adherence to the Statue of Secrecy is more important than ever. And that was the gist of what the Knights of Walpurgis – and even Salazar Slytherin then – wanted. Freedom of faith, conscience and creed was just an added bonus. One of the first changes Dumbledore wrought as headmaster was forbidding the observance of days like Samhain, Yule, Beltane and other religious festivals like Jom Kippur or Eid al-Fitr. You must have noticed that there are hardly any Muslims or Jews at Hogwarts."
"I had two classmates of Hindu fate and a Jewish one."
"Diwali is celebrated over the winter break. It would be interesting to know your jewish classmate's birthday, it is likely in summer, otherwise he would not have been able to have his bar mizwah."
"After looking at my yearbooks my parents once observed that Hogwarts did not seem to be an inclusive school – very few people of colour do attend."
"British wizarding society is terribly elitist and closed-off on its own but Dumbledore's rules reinforced that trend. Back to Severus. Do you really think that we, who personally witnessed his devotion to Lily Evans, would believe him a follower still after her murder at the Dark Lord's hands? For Merlin's sake, the man was sleeping in front of the Gryffindor common room just to get a chance to apologise for something he couldn't have helped. – No, only someone as incapable of understanding basic human emotions like the Dark Lord could have trusted Severus after Evans' death. I was not involved in plans because I am not very good in mind magic but there were quite a few who were very concerned with his increasing instability and paranoia. Targeting children like the Potter and Longbottom heirs cost him the last followers. Safe for those like Bellatrix or Rookwood who relished in mayhem and violence."
"So you are quite sure that Professor Snape is alive?"
"Yes, quite sure."
"That's wonderful! Harry will be so happy!"
In testament of how comfortable the cohabitation of the former Death Eater und the female third of the Golden Trio had become Rodolphus rolled his eyes.
"And that's one very good reason for him to stay hidden."
"Right. Now I am opening another bottle of wine and you tell me about the girls you impressed."
"Only if you do not tell me any details about romancing a Weasley."
"Your loss, I guess, flirting with Fred and George was rather exhilarating."
Summer Solstice, 2006
Not that Hermione Granger Lestrange would have granted Rita Skeeter an interview about her wedding, but if the beetle would have asked about the start of their romance the witch might have told a story of pale pink silk, skin the colour of buttermilk and dark red hair.
Fin