*Chapter 12*: The Translator
Hermione woke to hear Crookshanks purring and she noticed a second lump weighing down the covers on her bed.
She opened her eyes and saw the small male house-elf she had seen the night before scratching a very happy Crookshanks behind the ears. The house-elf was wearing a clean red tea towel.
Severus had told her to stay in the rooms his mother had prepared for them, that he would stay in his usual rooms just down the hall.
She wasn't sure she really wanted him to leave, but couldn't come up with a reason for him to stay that didn't sound suspiciously like she was afraid of the dark.
"Zdrast-vo-che," Hermione carefully said to the house-elf, tentatively trying to say hello.
She didn't know what to do if the little fellow responded in Russian beyond a greeting. 'Hello' was about as far as she went. She inwardly kicked herself for coming to a country without bothering to learn the basics of its language.
"My mother was born in Scotland, Madam," the elf said in a very odd accent. He bowed to Hermione. It looked like he was trying to be polite and not laugh at what she just said. "I can speak English fluently. My name is Cherv."
"Oh, good," said Hermione, relieved. She looked over at her breakfast tray and saw her post stacked on one corner.
Cherv handed her a separate small scroll with a Hogwarts seal on it.
"What's this?" Hermione asked as she took the scroll from him.
"It is from Cherv's cousin, Madam," said Cherv shyly. "I was hoping you could read it to Cherv."
"You can't read?" asked Hermione, surprised, as she took the parchment from him.
"Cherv cannot read English, Madam," the elf confessed as Crookshanks encircled him, butting him with his head and covering him with orange fur. "Cherv can read and write Russian and Greek."
"Of course," Hermione said as she opened the letter.
Cherv,
All is well at Hogwarts. The children have gone home for the season, but there is still much to do. The rooms still must be cleaned and readied for the new students next year.
A new painting of one of the founders has been put in Headmaster's office. She is very nice, and Dobby is liking her very much. She often has words with Phineas Nigellus and Dobby is now in charge of repairs in the Headmaster's office if their disagreements escalate. It is interesting work and Dobby is learning all sorts of new words that are Inappropriate to Say in Front of a Lady. Headmaster Nigellus has told me this, and I'm guessing Madam Snape is reading this to you so I cannot write what I have overheard.
Hermione laughed. Phineas was so imperious, and Helga was so hard-headed that Hermione was amazed Dumbledore put them in the same room. She felt sorry for the other paintings. At least she was done with whatever hell she had unleashed on Headmaster Lyons.
Dobby thinks you need to tell Madam Snape the Legend of Felix the Kind. She would think it was amusing. Also, tell her that her friends miss her very much and hopes she takes care in a place she is not familiar with.
I hope you are doing well, and mother asks Dobby to tell you to give our regards to your mother.
Sincerely,
Dobby
Hogwarts Free-Elf
"Who is Felix the Kind?" Hermione asked as she stopped reading and refolded the letter.
"Master's great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather." Cherv hopped around on the bed ticking off 'greats' on his fingers. "He freed all the elves on the estate."
"He did?" asked Hermione. This was a man ahead of his time. Hermione smiled at the little elf with keen interest.
"He thought we would look more dignified in uniforms," said Cherv, ceasing his hopping. He looked woeful. "He was not thinking clearly after a local drinking contest."
"Because uniforms are clothes," Hermione faded off. Ahead of his time, perhaps. Ahead of his vodka, not. "If you're all freed and have uniforms, why aren't you wearing them?"
"We would not want to… well…" Cherv said hesitantly.
"You're embarrassed," said Hermione, reaching for the breakfast tray on the table near her bed. She looked at her open-faced ham and cheese sandwich and blinked. She would have to get used to the food differences here. She didn't want to seem ungrateful to the small elf.
"It's not something to be proud of, Madam," admitted Cherv.
Hermione reached for her fork. "You know, Cherv, Dobby likes being able to decide who his employer is."
"But then you take the risk of," Cherv looked around to see if anyone else could hear him. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "unemployment."
After she ate, Hermione dressed quickly in light green robes and followed Cherv to Severus' chamber. She waited while Cherv knocked on the door for her.
"Enter," Severus' voice called out from inside.
The door opened into a room much smaller than hers.
Dark mahogany paneling lined the windowless walls and deep green carpet covered the floor. A bed with white sheets and a black spread was pushed up against one wall, its covers still messy. Several small bookshelves crouched in corners, while a large green velvet couch and low glass table sat in the center of the room.
Severus sat on the couch wearing a pale-yellow bathrobe. Hermione blinked a few times and shook her head. He read a document under a pane of glass laid over the top of it.
"How's your Gaelic?" Severus asked sharply as he frowned at the document on the table.
Hermione winced. "Poor."
"Unfortunately, that is not sufficient," said Severus as he curled his lip at the offending parchment. "I will have to procure a translator."
"Is there anyone trustworthy enough to be a translator?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
Severus raised his beetle-black eyes and they bored into her. "I had a thought I'd pop down to Economy Translators with a few copies and see what they think of it. Thought I'd give the Dark Lord a break for a change."
Hermione gave him a dirty look. He was beginning to really enjoy those.
He smirked at her. She was really beginning to enjoy that.
"Well, as long as the Amazons are the front line and not me," she said brusquely as she peered at the document.
The only word she had recognized on the page was 'rise.' Her Gaelic was colorful, even if it wasn't practical. She had Seamus Finnegan to thank for that.
She pointed it out to Severus helpfully.
"Too bad Finnegan never had enough brain to think on his own," said Severus, giving her a withering look. "He'd have come in handy."
Hermione frowned, but inwardly agreed with him. It was a shame Seamus and his mother were still in denial. Seamus had gotten much better at charms through the years and would have made a good addition to the Order.
"I sent an owl to Charlie Weasley," said Severus. "I expect he'll reply by this evening."
"Charlie?" Hermione was surprised.
"Who else?"
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Professor Snape and Hermione,
I have some time. I can come see you. Is three days all right?
~ Charlie
P.S. Is the estate hooked up to the Floo network?
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Charlie,
Friday is fine. The estate is fine for Flooing. It's been temporarily hooked up to the extended network for the week. Please bring pictures of everyone.
Love,
Hermione
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Hermione,
We received owls from Charlie, but decided it best to put Colin in charge of sending you pictures. Have you ever seen Charlie try to organize anything?
Hope you're all right.
~ Ron
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Ron,
Yes, I have seen Charlie try to organize. I was there last Christmas, remember? Don't know what I was thinking. Colin was a great idea.
I miss all of you terribly. Maybe you can visit.
Love,
Hermione
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Hermione,
I'd love to come, but Harry would want to come too and it's not safe. Mum would kill me. Ginny would also like to come, but mum won't hear of that either.
Sorry,
Ron
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Hermione crumpled the last parchment in her fist and scowled. She supposed she was lucky she didn't get a howler from Molly about how it was bad enough that she was here.
Mrs. Weasley was right. There was no sense of putting them all in one place when they were being potentially hunted.
Hermione saw the firelight flicker green out of the corner of her eye and she looked over to see Charlie walk through the fireplace.
"Oh my God," said Charlie, looking around at the ballroom.
The muscular, stocky wizard looked out of place in the huge room. His red hair was in desperate need of a haircut and his clothing was worn. He pulled a battered leather trunk behind him. A bandage was wrapped around his left hand.
"Charlie!" said Hermione, flinging herself at him.
"Hi, Hermione," said Charlie as he smiled and caught her. "It's good to see you well."
"Severus is out," said Hermione apologetically. "He should get back soon."
"I'm sure he'll be along," said Charlie, grinning as he looked at the cozy chairs and tea service Hermione had moved into the large empty room. "He can't stay away forever."
"You must be starving," said Hermione, suddenly realizing how much Charlie looked like Ron when he was hungry and her chest ached for the familiarity that came with being surrounded by friends. "I figured we'd have some nibbles while we waited for Severus, but you look like you need something more than this."
"I do," admitted Charlie. "But I'll wait for dinner."
"Dinner is a few hours away." Hermione lifted a small silver domed cover from the top of a plate and a small pink cake lay on a plate of delicate porcelain. Hermione cut him a piece and poured him some tea.
"I'll be fine," Charlie waved her concerns off as he poured cream into his tea and hungrily eyed the piece of cake she had cut for him.
They had just gotten settled when the flames in the fireplace went green again.
"Hello, Charlie," said Severus in a cold, cordial voice as he stepped into the room. "How is your mother?"
"Fine," said Charlie, trying to swallow the bite of cake he had just bitten into before he rose and shook Severus' hand.
"What happened to your hand?" Severus asked sharply. "Did you have trouble on the way?"
"Hatchling got frisky," Charlie muttered sheepishly.
"You weren't wearing gloves?" Severus frowned.
"Sometimes it's just not personal with the little ones," Charlie said, trying to look innocent.
"You're as bad as Hagrid," said Severus, shaking his head. "And you're starving."
"Err—" said Charlie, really looking like Ron now.
"Get into the kitchens and get a meal," Severus commanded fiercely. "Your mother would be furious with me."
"I'm nearly thirty," said Charlie, weakly defiant.
"All the more you should know better," said Severus sternly. He swung around to face Hermione. "And that cake and tea is your idea of lunch?"
"Err—" Hermione stammered.
"Get a sandwich, both of you," Severus snapped. "Then we'll begin going over the paperwork."
"Then get in fishing before bed?" Charlie asked hopefully.
"I suppose we could carpet to the lake and get in a couple of hours," Severus grumbled.
"In the dark?" Hermione was confused.
"Not this time of year," Charlie said. "Haven't you noticed?"
"The rooms that have windows are enchanted," explained Severus. "All the light bothers my mother."
Hermione blinked in realization. The days must be almost completely light. She had forgotten completely.
"Can we lift the enchantments?" Hermione asked excitedly.
"As long as we put them back before we leave," Severus said, frowning. "I thought it would bother you, so I didn't alter them."
"Round the clock daylight would be ideal," said Hermione. "I have shutters on my windows."
"I'll have it seen to," said Severus. "Now go eat. We'll be dining with Pieter and Anna tonight. If you're starving, he'll accuse me of neglecting you."
"Fine," said Hermione, sighing.
"I think he's secretly taking lessons from my mum," Charlie said conspiratorially as he fell into step beside Hermione on the way to the kitchen. "At least he's making an effort to be tolerable to you."
'You have no idea,' thought Hermione.
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"Charles, you are a friend of Hermione's family?" Anna asked during dinner.
They were sitting in the Snape dining room. Once again, Hermione had kicked her shoes off under the table, so she could curl her toes in the cool grass. The enchanted ceiling was shades of dusky orange and blue.
"My father studies Muggle technology as a hobby," said Charlie, trying to distract himself from the pretty woman with his herring salad. "Our families met when Hermione started going to Hogwarts. My mother wanted to make sure she was settling in well in her new household."
"I understand," said Anna seriously. "Your Marriage Law was quite a shock to us all. Poor Hermione is lucky to have gotten a man like our kind Severus. It could have been very unpleasant for her."
Charlie choked on his salad and Hermione pounded him on the back.
Severus tried to stare down Charlie. He failed.
"Do be careful," said Anna, laying a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "I think the house-elves may have missed a bone or two."
"It's wonderful," said Charlie, regaining his composure. "I swallowed the wrong way."
He sipped his water and glanced at Severus.
"How long will you be staying?" Pieter asked as he reached for a plate of chicken kiev.
"Probably just the weekend," admitted Charlie. "The little ones will have a fit if I'm gone for too long."
"Do you have many children?" asked Anna, matronly.
"In a way," said Charlie, grinning.
"Charles works at the Romanian Dragon Preserve," explained Severus.
"I would like a dragon, please," said Misha politely.
"If you study hard and learn about them, maybe one day you can take care of them as well," said Charlie seriously.
"Father, may I have a book on dragons?" asked Misha in careful English.
"I believe there might already be a few in the library," said Pieter. "You may look after dinner." Pieter turned to Charlie with interest. "Very interesting career path for someone who originated in a country where dragon breeding is illegal."
"England is too small," said Charlie. "One out of control dragon and it's pandemonium. Romania is more practical."
"I have to agree with you," said Pieter as he burped and reached for another buttered roll. "But it must have been difficult for you to study something you have never seen."
"I did my book work at Hogwarts," said Charlie defensively. "Professor Kettleburn oversaw my training personally. I spent the summer between my sixth and seventh years in Romania on a student intern program."
"I have heard of the internship program," said Pieter, raising his eyebrows and reaching for his goblet of wine. "It is very difficult to get into."
"Is it?" Charlie frowned. "The professor entered for me. I didn't know until two days before end-of-term I was going."
"You must have been an exceptional student," said Anna, beaming at him.
My mother says you are always good at what you love," said Charlie, shrugging. "I think I just got lucky."
"I want to be lucky, like you," said Misha, who had been whispering in Russian to his sisters. They were staring at Charlie's bandaged hand in wide-eyed awe.
"Mne khotelos' bi drakona na moi den' rojdenia," Nadia piped up.
"What?" Hermione whispered to Anna as Pieter seemed to be gently telling the little one no.
"She would like a dragon for her birthday," said Anna.
Nadia began speaking in rapid Russian to Charlie who looked at Hermione for help.
"I'm lost," admitted Hermione.
"She's trying to negotiate for 'just a small one,'" said Pieter. "I see politics in the future for this one." He raised a single eyebrow at her and she fell silent, but continued to beam at Charlie.
"I might be in trouble," Charlie said under his breath.
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Pieter, Charlie, and the three children sang off-key opera loudly as Severus poured Hermione a cup of tea in his father's study. It was a comfortable room done in brown leather and dark wood.
"It wouldn't be so bad if they all sang the same song," Hermione said to Anna, who was beginning to look annoyed.
Severus crossed his eyes in pain at a particularly high note, and Hermione and Anna giggled.
"What is all this jesting?" asked Pieter, staggering over to them, a glass of vodka sloshing around in his hand. "Does our entertaining amuse you?"
"Entertaining," mused Anna. "Was that what it was? I thought maybe you had eaten too much for dinner and had made yourselves sick."
"Such wonderful cooking, I could never tire of," said Pieter, kissing her on the top of her head.
"You-," began Anna crossly. Then she winced and placed a hand on her stomach.
Severus put his tea cup down and looked at her. Pieter placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Niet," said Anna trying to brush away Pieter's hand.
"Brat rojdaetsia," Nadia said, grabbing Tatiana's hands and trying to make her dance.
"Niet," said Tatiana, going back to the wooden dragon in front of her.
"Da," Anna said to Tatiana, who looked up from her dragon.
"Da?" asked Tatiana, who toddled over to Anna. She placed her small hand on Anna's stomach and said, "Ooh!" in a surprised little voice.
Then she went back to Nadia and joined the victory dance. "Brat!" Tatiana sang.
"Well, the girls seem to think it's a boy," said Pieter, smiling. "I believe it is time for us to go."
Pieter barked something in Russian to the children, and they all began to quickly gather their things.
Anna got to her feet and placed her hand on her husband's arm.
"I think we will have to continue this later," said Charlie, raising his glass in Anna's direction.
"I believe so," Anna said, smiling weakly at him. "Dinner tomorrow?"
"We'll bring it to your house," said Hermione quickly.
"Make some of those Cornish Pasties," said Pieter, looking over his shoulder as he escorted Anna to the fireplace, the children following behind. "I haven't had them since I was a child."
"Will do," said Charlie.
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The next day, Hermione and Charlie worked in the kitchen making a simple dinner that could be put into the oven and cooked at the Titov's.
"Cherv will do that for you!" The little elf wailed helplessly, standing on a chair as Hermione and Charlie swept through the kitchen mixing food and tending things on the stove.
"Its fine, Cherv," said Hermione as she stirred a bowl of filling for pasties. "We like cooking."
"You can go tidy up the garden outside," suggested Charlie as he dumped a bowl of dough onto the floured table and started kneading it. "The roses could be pruned."
"My job is kitchen," insisted Cherv grumpily. "Zemlyaa prunes the garden. She would be angry if Cherv did it."
"How many elves live here?" Hermione asked, wondering where they all were.
"Twenty? I do not know for certain." Cherv paused and then brightened. "Should I go suggest Zemlyaa prune the roses and Cherv help her?"
"Good idea," said Charlie as he picked the dough up and slapped it back down.
Cherv hopped happily to the floor and padded out of the room.
"You might end up with more elves, that keeps up," said Charlie nodding at the retreating elf.
"They're technically all free elves," said Hermione. "They can do as they please."
"Maybe one of their offspring might want to live with Mum," said Charlie thoughtfully. "She'd really like it."
"She'd have to give them fair pay," said Hermione defensively.
"Room, board, and food is fair trade," said Charlie.
"That is not fair!" she exclaimed. "That's indentured servitude!"
"Trade is not the same as indentured servitude," said Severus, walking in through the fireplace, his arms laden with packages from the market, "and I'm certain that arrangement could be called either."
"Did you remember the potatoes?" Hermione asked impatiently as she reached for the parcels.
"Yes, I remembered the potatoes." Severus snorted as he unpacked his load.
"Privet." A sleepy sounding voice called out in Russian from the small fireplace.
Hermione turned and saw a weary looking Pieter entering the kitchen. She was thankful they hadn't decided to use the small fireplace as storage space for spare cauldrons.
"Hello, Pieter," said Hermione. "How is Anna?"
"She fine and is sleeping with young Boris," Pieter said, smiling wearily. "I just awoke myself."
"Congratulations," said Charlie, his hands deep in a bowl of dough.
"Thank you," said Pieter. "I admit I did not do much. She is incredible." He looked at Hermione. "I do not know how your mother did it without magic. She was very brave."
Hermione suddenly thought of her parents and wondered how long it had taken Anastasia to hunt them down at Fleur's parents. They probably went straight there. She didn't know whether to cry or laugh.
At least they were in good hands.
"I'll give you a potion for Anna," said Severus, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. "She might need it."
"I thought you might have something," said Pieter. "I expect she will wake within the hour."
Severus left the room and Pieter turned to Hermione.
"He is a good man," said Pieter. "Too emotional for his own good, but a good man."
Charlie snorted.
Pieter ignored him.
Hermione was surprised, but acted normally as Severus returned to the room with a red ceramic bottle with a black stopper.
"Give her a drink of this every four hours," said Severus handing it to Pieter.
"How much?" Pieter asked, tucking it into his robes.
"Depends on how much she thinks she needs," said Severus with an arched eyebrow.
"Poka," said Pieter tossing a handful of Floo powder into the small fireplace. He stepped into the flames as he waved goodbye to them.
Hermione was impressed. That was a difficult potion to brew, and most of the ingredients for the higher-level potions tended to be very pricey. He was a good man, she finally admitted to herself. At least he was acting like it for the moment.
"Are you done with the translation?" Severus asked Charlie.
"Very nearly," said Charlie awkwardly. "The part at the bottom gets kind of vague."
"Typical of the Brotherhood," muttered Severus. "Just do the best you can."