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GRASCORTY CASTLE
: Lucille Lee
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Summary: AU. WIP. Set in the 18th-19th century. Intrigue and mystery surrounds Hermione's new home, Grascorty Castle. In an era which sees the re-rise of Darkness, what is in store for Muggle-born Hermione? SS:HG:RL
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8. In which a few promises are made
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The next few weeks were conspicuous by their lack of activity. After the eventful days she had hitherto spent in Grascorty Castle, she had been expecting more adventure. However, the most she did was find some interesting books in the library and learn a lot about her ancestors (which wasn't as boring as one would imagine).
She had not seen Ginny during this time. One morning in late January, she learnt from another maid, Agnes, who now usually served her that Ginny had left. Hermione wondered if it was because of her. She kept feeling quite guilty for quite a few days. The Lovegoods and Millers were the only people who visited them once a while. At first, playing the part of the hostess discomfited her. It was all very awkward. But by practice, she grew deft and it and began enjoying the whole thing. Luna Lovegood, with all her strange talks, wasn't as annoying as before but rather entertaining.
Her uncle was the person who often talked about the family. He seemed very proud to belong to a lineage of famous, brave men. However, he would never mention his brother or parents. He would often talk about his travels to the Oriental countries. Personally, she didn't believe even half of them, but she had to admit that they were quite innovative and a pleasant change from the stereotyped novels.
Meanwhile, she had once again begun brushing up her magical skills. That was chiefly because she had nothing to do all day. There was no work to do around the castle. There was no garden to tend. There were no homely neighbours to help. It was rather like the life a princess in many ways. Only she wasn't used to such a life and wasn't sure that she would have liked it.
There had been no visitors from Black Manor. Lord Cromwell, one day, commented that Black, Potter and Lupin would leave for London in February – they always did – and would come back only in November or thereabout for two months. They were "society persons" who liked to live the vibrant London life.
Hermione, needless to say, didn't like that idea. While she now liked the Lovegoods and Millers, she couldn't imagine having no one but them for company all the year round. The prospect was singularly scary.
Moreover, she liked Mr. Lupin a lot. His seemingly indifferent behaviour the night of the New Year Ball had perturbed her. She didn't have very strong feelings for him, but she did like him better than any man she had known until now. She would have very much liked to explore these feelings – if only he would have stayed.
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February was coming to an end. Hermione had now fallen into a simple routine of studying and practising magic in the privacy of her bedroom. She had tried to use the brushes and paints which she had found in a drawer of her bureau, but she really wasn't very good at it. In the absence of proper guidance, all she could feel was that she was wasting paper.
It was a late Thursday afternoon. It had been a relatively clear day.
She had been sewing in her room, when Agnes came to inform her that there was a visitor. Since Lord Cromwell was not feeling well, she would have to attend to him.
And to her pleasant surprise, it was neither the Lovegoods nor Millers.
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"It is good to see you again, Miss Granger. It feels too long since our last meeting," said Mr. Lupin as he turned away from the casement when she entered.
"I was wondering if you would leave Grascorty without seeing me, sir. I am glad you decided not to."
He smiled apologetically. "My house is in London, you see. Would you not convince Lord Cromwell to bring you to London?"
She shook her head. "I think he likes it very much here."
"The country has its charms, yes," he said pensively, looking out of the window.
"I am sorry that you will be gone for the whole year," she said, looking down. How she wished to express how much she was going to miss him…
"I think I am, too."
She looked up as he came closer and took her hands in his. He seemed somewhat uncomfortable but his eyes were grave and looked deeply into hers.
"I wish I could stay with you, Hermione. But since it cannot be so, I can only leave a promise with you." He gently kissed her fingers. "I have loved you since the day I saw you and I know that you are the only one I can love so."
Hermione felt… disturbed by his confession. Did she love him?
"I do not ask anything of you, Hermione," he said, "but I just wished for you to know my feelings."
"Mr. Lupin…"
"Remus – please call me 'Remus'. You need not say anything now. In fact, please do not say anything now but when I come back. I would like you to think over your feelings at leisure. I will try to come sooner than November."
She could only nod.
He released her hands and smiled. Hermione felt her heart lightening as she smiled back at him.
"I must be leaving now."
He hesitated, but only for a moment. Then he bent down and pressed his lips lightly to hers. Hermione felt a heady feeling envelope her. He stepped away and all was cold again.
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Hermione stood near the window where he had been not long ago, looking out at the receding carriage.
As it disappeared from view, she sat down on the window-sill. She felt pleasant and just wanted to… smile. She couldn't believe that he had loved her all along. It was true that she could sense that he liked her, too. But love was a very strong feeling – especially when it was proclaimed from a man of his respectability.
Love… that was more than what she felt – or thought she felt. She didn't know. But she didn't want to think about it right now. She only wanted to bask in the ecstasy of his love. It was a lovely, giddy feeling.
It gave her hope – something to expect and think and be happy about. Sure of his affections, she no longer felt impatient and gloomy that he was leaving. It seemed so long since she had felt that.
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It was long after the Castle doors had been closed and securely locked. The whole country seemed to be deeply asleep.
Hermione lay in her warm room, blissfully unaware of the stranger who had entered her room.
The stranger, who was a skilful spy, went noiselessly through her bureau, aided by the dim light of his wand. However, his long search was fruitless.
He stood near the lavish bed, regarding the woman lying on it thoughtfully.
Extinguishing the light at the tip of the wand, he pocketed it. As he leaned over her, Hermione stirred and moments later, opened her eyes.
In spite of the inky darkness of the new moon night, Hermione could distinguish those eyes.
"You!" she murmured, the haze of sleepiness not quite dispelled.
As she sat up, he stood straight, showing no apprehension at being found.
Hermione brought up the covers tightly about her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked incredulously. "How did you come here?"
"Miss Granger," said Mr. Snape, lighting the candle on the table near the bed, "I believe you have something which you do not own – and have no right to keep with you."
"What are you doing here at this time?" persisted Hermione, laying special emphasis on the last words. "This is most awkward," she said after a while.
"It need not be. Just tell me where you have hidden the ring."
Ring? That repulsive, shiny jewel…
"Is it yours? I thought it was Malfoy's."
"It is. And I have come to take it."
"Did Malfoy send you?"
He gave her a particularly sour look. "No one orders me around, madam. The ring, please."
"Why would you want it? It is not yours."
"Stop being so stubborn, woman!" he snapped angrily.
She glared at him. "You are trespassing, you know."
He seemed completely untroubled by that fact, at least. "I ask for the last time, Miss Granger. Give me the ring."
"I will," she said after some time of contemplation. She got up and pulled on her kimono loosely about her. "But only if you answer a few of my questions."
"What questions?"
She looked steadily at him as she said, "About Voldemort."
There was silence for a while.
"Just give me the ring. It'll be safe for you to hand it over to me."
"It is a fair bargain, Mr. Snape," she said firmly.
"I don't bargain if it does not suit me. Do not force me into using magic, Miss Granger."
Hermione looked coldly at him. "If you put it that way… I can duel you any time."
He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "Merlin, woman! You are difficult!"
"I just want to know what is going on. Why should I be kept in dark?"
"Because you have no business knowing what is happening considering that you can be of little help."
"How would you know? I have not been tried."
"You seem to forget that you are a witch."
"And that should hinder me how?"
"You are a woman – women don't spy, don't fight," he said condescendingly.
"I don't see why – in fact, Mr. Malfoy, pureblood extraordinaire, certainly did not seem to think so."
He pursed his lips, his frustration obvious.
"I don't see why we should be having this talk. You ought to be grateful that I am taking a Dark object away from you – in fact, I am protecting you from Malfoy. You don't think that his defeat will go without avenged?"
"Everybody seems to be protecting me too much," she said heatedly. "Does it never occur to you that I might not need all that protecting? That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself?"
He looked at her with an undistinguishable expression.
"You really are naïve," he said softly. "You are too innocent to be allowed to fight Voldemort. They would soon crush you. I can see why Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin care… feel so… greatly responsible for your safety." Then after a pause, "It would be better if you just handed over the ring to me. It is, as I stated, a Dark object. And to satiate a little of your curiosity, it is a key – something which will be useful to the Order."
Something in his gentle tone calmed her vehemence. She wondered what he meant by "naïve". What was she so naïve about?
She went to her dressing table and from a small ring case hidden in a secret opening, brought out Malfoy's ring.
"How's… everyone… everything?" she asked as she handed him the ring.
"Voldemort is growing powerful. The Ministry is most unhelpful. They do not believe that Voldemort is rising – a large majority doesn't, in fact. That is our chief problem."
She was mildly surprised at how easily he told her about it. She had expected him to sneer off her question.
"But… there must be killings and Dark Mark?"
"Death-Eaters leave no indication of their presence now. Moreover, they are no longer killing for their pleasure. Voldemort means to take over the Ministry – or destroy it at least."
As he pulled on his cloak and moved towards the door, she asked, "Is there really nothing I can do? I feel… so left out." Her desperation rang clear in her voice.
"Take care of yourself."
"And there's something else…"
He turned his head slightly towards her.
"Would you… would you please keep me informed about them? About everything? Please, Mr. Snape!"
"It is not possible to send owls, you understand."
She waited. She knew that he knew what she had meant.
"The Bridge is far…"
"I can come easily," she said hurriedly. "I promise I will be discreet."
"I shall come down every Saturday at about midnight."
And with that, he went out as quietly as he had come in.
Next morning, Hermione smiled as she remembered the strange rendezvous. She wondered how it had ended as it had. She forgave him for his harsh words. Surely, he had seemed more pliant than she could have ever imagined him to be.
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Lord Black sat in his London home, idly fingering his rings. He still firmly believed that Snape was immensely untrustworthy. Now, he had proof – if that anonymous letter could be proof. However little he had, he had to make the best use of it. Snape was not a person to be trusted. He knew Snape. No one knew Snape as he did.
"What has got you thinking?" asked Remus, who looked exhausted, as he sat down opposite him.
"What happened?"
"The new Death-Eaters are far more rash – if that is possible, not to mention immensely lacking intelligence."
"Lucius Malfoy would be disappointed that his son falls in the category."
Remus shrugged. "I don't know – their stupidity makes them attack first and never think. Sometimes that might be an advantage."
"Talking of Death-Eaters, I would like to know what you think about this."
Lord Black handed him the letter that had busied him for the last few hours. "I received it by this morning's post – the Muggle way."
Remus' brows rose high as he pursued the letter. After he finished reading, he considered it for a long time.
"It is anonymous," he said at last.
"Of course it is anonymous – someone who knows what Snape really is would be afraid of Snape. If that git ever found out that someone had stumbled on his secret and informed the Order, then he would surely torture him to death."
"You had best take this to Dumbledore, I suppose."
"Of course, I will," said Lord Black, pocketing the letter as if it were made of gold. "Right now."
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Saturday couldn't come soon enough for Hermione. And even when it did, she found that the day couldn't pass more slowly.
She had woken up quite early that day. She had breakfasted before eight and was moving about the house restlessly. She had, by now, explored all the rooms, read all her books quite a few times and gone through all the new plants in the garden. Although she didn't much like gardening – well actually, she didn't like to be startled by lizards, insects or green snakes.
Bubbling with unrestrained energy, she went out for a long walk by herself. She usually went out alone, the other young ladies of her acquaintance being quite averse to strenuous physical exercise.
She longed to go the Bridge and stay there until midnight when she was so sure that Mr. Snape would come and tell her something.
There was a small bench at the edge of the road just outside the Castle Grounds, shaded by the thick growth of trees and bushes. Hermione sat down to rest for a while.
She was shaken from her thoughts when she heard loud crying noise – definitely a baby.
"'tis all right, Master Loren," said a voice, clearly irritated. "Be quiet now! And sleep!"
Hermione frowned at the annoyed tone. The baby didn't have to be yelled at so that he would sleep. She felt even more protective as she stealthily peered round and saw that it was indeed Ginny's baby.
The child wailed louder as the woman shook him angrily in the end.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Mrs. Collins." She had recognized the woman as one of her uncle's tenants.
The woman was startled to see her there. "Miss Granger," she replied, throwing an irritated look at the baby. "Good morning. My friend's child – she left me with him for a few days."
"Your friend?"
"Mrs. Glen."
Mrs. Collins then tried to quieten the baby in a less hasty manner. Hermione was glad to have come across them – she had no doubt that Mrs. Collins would have had no scruple in hitting the child if not for her presence. She left them only when Loren quietened, making a mental note to check on Mrs. Collins more often.
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Headmaster Albus Dumbledore slowly rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Lord Black looked expectantly at him.
"So?" he asked finally.
"It is indeed a grave accusation. Severus is one of our most trusted members. But this letter…" Dumbledore looked very much like he wished that the letter had never come into existence.
"You don't think this is all a hoax only?"
"If it is a hoax, the question is who would write it? Know about it? And send it to you."
Dumbledore looked at Lord Black with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
Lord Black stared at him with a slight frown. Then understanding the hidden meaning, he was indignant. "That's foolish! Why would I take all this trouble? You cannot really believe so!"
The older man just smiled wanly.
"In any case, we have to try and find more about this. I shall ask Filius to search for any traces of magic around it or if there is anything else."
"So you are going to consider it?" asked Lord Black, unable to conceal his malicious smirk.
"I would advise you to mend fences with Severus soon, Sirius. These are hard times – very hard times."
Lord Black gave him an incredulous look, shook his head and left.
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