Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
Help! by Katta (KET on ff.net) (katta_t2002@yahoo.co.uk)
Chapter 4
It took Hermione a full half hour to realise that Snape had disappeared. She noticed that he had got up from the table, but assumed he had gone to the bathroom or to get something. Eventually, when he didn't return, she went to make sure that he was alright. Even when she couldn't find him, she thought at first he had simply gone for a walk. But when he hadn't returned by lunchtime, she was getting frantic. Interrogation of Piggy revealed nothing useful, except that the Master had left and she could see that for herself.
The next few days and nights were the worst in Hermione's life so far. She stayed on in the house, assuming that he would come back. And she wracked her brain for possible explanations for his behaviour, but could find none.
Finally, on the Wednesday morning, she broke. She composed a note to Professor Dumbledore, explaining as succinctly as possible that Snape had disappeared without commenting on why she had any knowledge of his movements in the first place. She owled it and hoped Snape's owl was a quick one. It must have been, because only an hour later, the fire crackled and Dumbledore's disembodied head appeared in the fire. He was wearing a worried expression. 'Hermione, are you there?' he asked. She stepped up in front of the fire so that he could see her. He nodded and said, 'Stand back, I'm coming through.' And a few moments later, he was standing there in front of her. 'How did you know I was here?' she asked feeling as if she had been rumbled. Dumbledore smiled. 'I recognised Snape's owl. You had some knowledge of his movement. It seemed the obvious deduction.'
Hermione felt her face go rather red and she said lamely, 'I have been using his library and lab to do some research.' Dumbledore nodded kindly. 'No doubt. No doubt, ' he replied. Then he said, 'Is there any possibility that you might have - ah - said something that upset or insulted him?' Hermione stared at him and the realised that he was asking very delicately whether they had had a lovers' tiff. She shook her head violently. 'No, no, nothing like that. We were talking, he was arguing a bit with his house elf, then he was reading, and then he simply got up and walked out without a word to me or the elf.' Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. 'What was he reading?' he asked at last. Hermione thought back and said 'The muggle Sunday papers,' and suddenly flushed even more at the implication of an intimate Sunday breakfast. Dumbledore, however, appeared totally unshockable. He simply asked which paper Snape had been reading. Hermione thought long and hard but couldn't remember.
'Piggy,' called Dumbledore and Piggy appeared through the wall. 'Do you still have the Sunday papers or have you disposed of them?' 'Yes, sir Dumbledore. Yes, yes. Still have them. The man from the council - he gives us this green box. Black lid. I puts all the papers in the box. Council takes them away on a Friday and makes heat and power out of them. Yes, yes,' she said, nodding vigorously. Hermione smiled at the thought of the house elf dealing with muggle paper recycling schemes. 'Would you bring us last Sunday's papers, please,' said Dumbledore patiently. Piggy disappeared for a moment and reappeared with an armful of papers which she put on the table. Dumbledore looked through them. 'Hm. I read the muggle Sunday papers myself sometimes, but I didn't read them last Sunday. Now let's see. The Observer. The Sunday Times. The News of the World?' Piggy suddenly went bright red and Dumbledore and Hermione had to lunge to grab her before she banged her head against the wall. 'Whatever is the matter?' asked Hermione. Piggy sobbed uncontrollable and it took several minutes to calm her down sufficiently to get a sensible word out of her. Finally she explained, 'Master. Miss. They don't order News of the World. I's like it. I's got it for me. I's didn't think Master would mind.' 'I'm sure he won't,' said Hermione reassuringly, smiling inwardly at the image of the house elf reading a weekly diet of scandals and sensationalism. 'Is it possible that the News of the World was on the table last Sunday?' asked Dumbledore. He and Hermione then had to grab Piggy again before she started to bang her head again. Finally she admitted that the News of the World might have been among the papers on the breakfast table last Sunday. 'Hm,' said Dumbledore. 'If you don't know what Severus was reading, we'd better look through all these papers.' He grabbed the top half of the pile and gave the rest to Hermione.
Hermione read carefully the same stories she had read last Sunday. Arguments about the wisdom of joining the Euro. The future of London underground. A plane crash. The weather. The recent crime wave. None of it seemed remotely relevant to Snape. Dumbledore seemed to have a similar lack of success. The suddenly he whistled softly. Hermione looked up to see him fold up the News of the World. 'I think, my dear, this is something I have to deal with,' he said enigmatically. And stood up. And disapparated without another word.
Hermione simply sat and stared after him. He was the second man to have walked out on her in four days over the same newspaper story and she still didn't know what it was all about. 'Well, of all the .' she began, but she was simply beyond words.
***
After the first shock of Dumbledore's disappearance had worn off, Hermione started to think logically again. Whatever it was, it was something to do with a story in that News of the World rag, that wasn't obvious from the more high-brow papers. And since Dumbledore had taken the paper with him, she would have to get hold of another copy. And she knew just where she'd find one.
A few moments later, she apparated into the alleyway next to her parents' house. It was mid morning on a Wednesday and she expected them to be safely away at their dentist surgery, so she simply used her key to enter without ringing the bell. It was a close call whether she or her father were more startled when they came face to face. 'Dad, what are you doing at home?' she asked and then took in his pale and gaunt face. He put his hand on her arm and led her over to the sofa. She sat down next to him. And then finally he spoke. 'Hermione, I'm glad you've come home. I wanted to talk to you, but it is not the sort of thing you can discuss over the 'phone or through that ..' He nodded with distrust at the fire place. 'Dad, what's happened?' 'Hermione, I simply don't know how to say this so that it doesn't hurt you, but I'm not well.' 'What do you mean - not well?' 'Well, we don't really know. I've been for more tests today. But it is not good.' 'What do you mean - not good?' 'Hermione, I'm a dentist. I'm a medically trained man. The doctors can't hoodwink me.' 'What's the matter with you?' 'We won't know until we have the test results, but I'm very afraid it's serious.' 'But what's wrong?' Instead of answering straight, he began to describe what had happened. 'I've been feeling unwell for several months. But it was all so vague. No real symptoms. Tiredness. Some vague pain in the stomach. But it all got much worse a few weeks back and your mother finally persuaded me to go to the doctor. It's not good news, I'm afraid.' 'But what's wrong,' said Hermione again. 'They are finding abnormalities in the liver.' 'What does that mean?' 'Well, it could be all sorts of things. It could be cirrhosis of the liver.' 'But you don't drink!' 'No,' he said with a sigh. 'So it probably isn't that.' 'Well then?'
He had been very brave up to this moment, but when it came to it, he found he simply didn't have the courage to tell his daughter that he very much suspected that what the doctors weren't telling him was that it was secondary malign tumours - secondary, therefore untreatable. Instead he said, 'I'm very tired after the tests. I'm going to have a lie down. I'll speak to you later.' 'But why didn't you tell me? I may have been able to help!' 'Magic, you mean,' he said and smiled. Hermione nodded. 'Your mother actually did think of that and we spoke to that nice lady teacher you were so fond of.' 'Professor McGonagall?' 'Yes, that was it. She sent along a young man with a very long beard, purple robes and a strange hat. But I'm afraid it is too late for magic, too.' 'What do you mean, too late. You said you had only been feeling unwell for a few months!' Her father sighed. 'It seems the ehhr..' he still couldn't bring himself to say the word cancer, '. the change started in the pancreas. A strange organ, that. There are no real symptoms until it spreads and, by then .' He was unable to finish, but he could see Hermione had got the point.
Thoroughly unsettled, Hermione took refuge in displacement activity. After a short silence, she asked, 'Do you still get the News of the World for a laugh of a Sunday?'. Her father smiled. 'Keeps the newsagent guessing,' he said. 'And do you still have last Sunday's papers?' 'I expect they are behind that chair as usual.' He patted his daughter's arm and got up from the sofa with some effort.
When he had gone, Hermione sat down at the table with the News of World and a deep sense of foreboding. It was the same stories as in the broadsheets, but the news content downplayed and the sensational angle much more prominent. In particular, the crime wave seemed to feature strongly. The front page announced a feature article on one young criminal now sought by the police for a string of violent robberies on pages 6, 7 and 8. With a pricking of her thumbs, she turned to page 6.
Help! by Katta (KET on ff.net) (katta_t2002@yahoo.co.uk)
Chapter 4
It took Hermione a full half hour to realise that Snape had disappeared. She noticed that he had got up from the table, but assumed he had gone to the bathroom or to get something. Eventually, when he didn't return, she went to make sure that he was alright. Even when she couldn't find him, she thought at first he had simply gone for a walk. But when he hadn't returned by lunchtime, she was getting frantic. Interrogation of Piggy revealed nothing useful, except that the Master had left and she could see that for herself.
The next few days and nights were the worst in Hermione's life so far. She stayed on in the house, assuming that he would come back. And she wracked her brain for possible explanations for his behaviour, but could find none.
Finally, on the Wednesday morning, she broke. She composed a note to Professor Dumbledore, explaining as succinctly as possible that Snape had disappeared without commenting on why she had any knowledge of his movements in the first place. She owled it and hoped Snape's owl was a quick one. It must have been, because only an hour later, the fire crackled and Dumbledore's disembodied head appeared in the fire. He was wearing a worried expression. 'Hermione, are you there?' he asked. She stepped up in front of the fire so that he could see her. He nodded and said, 'Stand back, I'm coming through.' And a few moments later, he was standing there in front of her. 'How did you know I was here?' she asked feeling as if she had been rumbled. Dumbledore smiled. 'I recognised Snape's owl. You had some knowledge of his movement. It seemed the obvious deduction.'
Hermione felt her face go rather red and she said lamely, 'I have been using his library and lab to do some research.' Dumbledore nodded kindly. 'No doubt. No doubt, ' he replied. Then he said, 'Is there any possibility that you might have - ah - said something that upset or insulted him?' Hermione stared at him and the realised that he was asking very delicately whether they had had a lovers' tiff. She shook her head violently. 'No, no, nothing like that. We were talking, he was arguing a bit with his house elf, then he was reading, and then he simply got up and walked out without a word to me or the elf.' Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. 'What was he reading?' he asked at last. Hermione thought back and said 'The muggle Sunday papers,' and suddenly flushed even more at the implication of an intimate Sunday breakfast. Dumbledore, however, appeared totally unshockable. He simply asked which paper Snape had been reading. Hermione thought long and hard but couldn't remember.
'Piggy,' called Dumbledore and Piggy appeared through the wall. 'Do you still have the Sunday papers or have you disposed of them?' 'Yes, sir Dumbledore. Yes, yes. Still have them. The man from the council - he gives us this green box. Black lid. I puts all the papers in the box. Council takes them away on a Friday and makes heat and power out of them. Yes, yes,' she said, nodding vigorously. Hermione smiled at the thought of the house elf dealing with muggle paper recycling schemes. 'Would you bring us last Sunday's papers, please,' said Dumbledore patiently. Piggy disappeared for a moment and reappeared with an armful of papers which she put on the table. Dumbledore looked through them. 'Hm. I read the muggle Sunday papers myself sometimes, but I didn't read them last Sunday. Now let's see. The Observer. The Sunday Times. The News of the World?' Piggy suddenly went bright red and Dumbledore and Hermione had to lunge to grab her before she banged her head against the wall. 'Whatever is the matter?' asked Hermione. Piggy sobbed uncontrollable and it took several minutes to calm her down sufficiently to get a sensible word out of her. Finally she explained, 'Master. Miss. They don't order News of the World. I's like it. I's got it for me. I's didn't think Master would mind.' 'I'm sure he won't,' said Hermione reassuringly, smiling inwardly at the image of the house elf reading a weekly diet of scandals and sensationalism. 'Is it possible that the News of the World was on the table last Sunday?' asked Dumbledore. He and Hermione then had to grab Piggy again before she started to bang her head again. Finally she admitted that the News of the World might have been among the papers on the breakfast table last Sunday. 'Hm,' said Dumbledore. 'If you don't know what Severus was reading, we'd better look through all these papers.' He grabbed the top half of the pile and gave the rest to Hermione.
Hermione read carefully the same stories she had read last Sunday. Arguments about the wisdom of joining the Euro. The future of London underground. A plane crash. The weather. The recent crime wave. None of it seemed remotely relevant to Snape. Dumbledore seemed to have a similar lack of success. The suddenly he whistled softly. Hermione looked up to see him fold up the News of the World. 'I think, my dear, this is something I have to deal with,' he said enigmatically. And stood up. And disapparated without another word.
Hermione simply sat and stared after him. He was the second man to have walked out on her in four days over the same newspaper story and she still didn't know what it was all about. 'Well, of all the .' she began, but she was simply beyond words.
***
After the first shock of Dumbledore's disappearance had worn off, Hermione started to think logically again. Whatever it was, it was something to do with a story in that News of the World rag, that wasn't obvious from the more high-brow papers. And since Dumbledore had taken the paper with him, she would have to get hold of another copy. And she knew just where she'd find one.
A few moments later, she apparated into the alleyway next to her parents' house. It was mid morning on a Wednesday and she expected them to be safely away at their dentist surgery, so she simply used her key to enter without ringing the bell. It was a close call whether she or her father were more startled when they came face to face. 'Dad, what are you doing at home?' she asked and then took in his pale and gaunt face. He put his hand on her arm and led her over to the sofa. She sat down next to him. And then finally he spoke. 'Hermione, I'm glad you've come home. I wanted to talk to you, but it is not the sort of thing you can discuss over the 'phone or through that ..' He nodded with distrust at the fire place. 'Dad, what's happened?' 'Hermione, I simply don't know how to say this so that it doesn't hurt you, but I'm not well.' 'What do you mean - not well?' 'Well, we don't really know. I've been for more tests today. But it is not good.' 'What do you mean - not good?' 'Hermione, I'm a dentist. I'm a medically trained man. The doctors can't hoodwink me.' 'What's the matter with you?' 'We won't know until we have the test results, but I'm very afraid it's serious.' 'But what's wrong?' Instead of answering straight, he began to describe what had happened. 'I've been feeling unwell for several months. But it was all so vague. No real symptoms. Tiredness. Some vague pain in the stomach. But it all got much worse a few weeks back and your mother finally persuaded me to go to the doctor. It's not good news, I'm afraid.' 'But what's wrong,' said Hermione again. 'They are finding abnormalities in the liver.' 'What does that mean?' 'Well, it could be all sorts of things. It could be cirrhosis of the liver.' 'But you don't drink!' 'No,' he said with a sigh. 'So it probably isn't that.' 'Well then?'
He had been very brave up to this moment, but when it came to it, he found he simply didn't have the courage to tell his daughter that he very much suspected that what the doctors weren't telling him was that it was secondary malign tumours - secondary, therefore untreatable. Instead he said, 'I'm very tired after the tests. I'm going to have a lie down. I'll speak to you later.' 'But why didn't you tell me? I may have been able to help!' 'Magic, you mean,' he said and smiled. Hermione nodded. 'Your mother actually did think of that and we spoke to that nice lady teacher you were so fond of.' 'Professor McGonagall?' 'Yes, that was it. She sent along a young man with a very long beard, purple robes and a strange hat. But I'm afraid it is too late for magic, too.' 'What do you mean, too late. You said you had only been feeling unwell for a few months!' Her father sighed. 'It seems the ehhr..' he still couldn't bring himself to say the word cancer, '. the change started in the pancreas. A strange organ, that. There are no real symptoms until it spreads and, by then .' He was unable to finish, but he could see Hermione had got the point.
Thoroughly unsettled, Hermione took refuge in displacement activity. After a short silence, she asked, 'Do you still get the News of the World for a laugh of a Sunday?'. Her father smiled. 'Keeps the newsagent guessing,' he said. 'And do you still have last Sunday's papers?' 'I expect they are behind that chair as usual.' He patted his daughter's arm and got up from the sofa with some effort.
When he had gone, Hermione sat down at the table with the News of World and a deep sense of foreboding. It was the same stories as in the broadsheets, but the news content downplayed and the sensational angle much more prominent. In particular, the crime wave seemed to feature strongly. The front page announced a feature article on one young criminal now sought by the police for a string of violent robberies on pages 6, 7 and 8. With a pricking of her thumbs, she turned to page 6.