8. The enemy's lair
Severus stood in the bathroom after having spent another night on 'his' sofa at Hermione's place. He slept well here for some reason. Better than at home in Spinner's End, despite Dizzy's insistence that his hair needed preening at two AM.
After meeting with Lucius yesterday, he came home to an empty flat, to find a note explaining that Hermione had gotten an emergency floo-call from Potter. He hadn't seen head nor tail of her since.
He'd spent the entire morning in bed, unrepentant, resting his right foot which was still somewhat painful. Admittedly, it had not been a very productive day so far, but it had given him ample time to think.
He looked down on his left arm. The dark mark had been asleep ever since that fateful May day in '98 when the Dark Lord died. The snake no longer moved, and it hadn't caused him physical pain for over twelve years. It was faded and grey now, yet unmistakeably there, reminding him of all the times he'd felt imprisoned by it, as if caught with a snare around his arm.
Little was known about the magic that went into its making. The Dark Lord had created it, and he was fairly certain that there was some kind of binding-spell on it. There was no other way that he knew of, that would allow the Dark Lord to cause his servants pain through a protean charm.
He was also certain now, that the mark was the cause for his loss of magic. Or rather, his inability to access anything but dark magic. It was the logical conclusion after learning that the other Death Eaters had probably suffered the same fate.
He would have to tell Potter this, eventually. He was nearly useless in this state... but that also meant he'd have to tell Hermione.
He sighed. For some reason the thought rubbed him the wrong way. He much preferred that she didn't know about it. Not that he had any wild delusions about her seeing him as some poor misunderstood saint. No, she was too clever for that. All the same though, to reveal to her just how much control that mark had over his life would not be painless.
Was there a way to get rid of it instead? This had been one of his greatest wishes once, and he'd attempted it, long ago. He'd tried many a spell; both sound and sordid. He'd even invented a variety of the evanesco that had later proven to be highly useful for removing spoilt parts from potion ingredients. The Dark Lord's magic though, had always been tenacious. As far as he knew, none of the Death Eaters had ever succeeded in removing the mark. If they had, no one had deigned to inform him about it.
He decided to hold off telling Potter and Hermione the truth as long as possible. Perhaps another solution would come up.
He picked up his new toothbrush from Sainsbury's and after a moment's deliberation, decided to borrow some of Hermione's whitening toothpaste. He squinted at the small writing on the back of it, snorting through his nose. 'For Extra White Teeth and Cavity Prevention'.
He squeezed out enough of the substance to completely cover the head of his brush. It was probably akin to a piss in the ocean, but it certainly wouldn't hurt him.
Suddenly, a loud crack from the living room startled him so that he dropped the brush. It clattered noisily down into the sink, spilling toothpaste everywhere.
He whirled around, the image of magical flames vivid to his inner eye, and his heart did not calm until his wand lay steadily in his palm. He noiselessly opened the bathroom door a tiny fraction, sectumsempra ready on his lips.
"…sure he's even her, Hermione?"
The voice was male, and vaguely familiar.
"Relax, he's in the bathroom."
He'd recognise her voice anywhere. A sigh of relief escaped him and he took the time to dress properly before nudging the door open with his shoulder.
Hermione looked tired. Her hair was untidy and she had dark rings under her eyes, but her smile when she saw him was radiant. It drove his tattered heart into a leap, and he nearly failed to notice the other person in the room.
When he did, he almost had to squint his eyes against the row of large, symmetrical teeth, and the crimson Auror robe, which clashed horribly with the red-orange hair.
"Do you recognise me, Mr. Snape?" Ronald Weasley's voice was friendly, and he held out a strong hand. "It's been a long time. How are you holding up?"
Severus cast his eyes briefly towards Hermione, who smiled encouragingly.
Of course he remembered Weasley. But absurdly, he only just now recalled that this man, not Potter, had been Hermione's unrequited love in school.
That idea struck a hidden cord in him, and he suddenly felt wrong-footed.
The long-standing antipathy he held against Aurors did nothing to ease his disquiet, and his gut-instinct to strike first against that which threatened him kicked in.
He felt his lip curl in contempt.
"An Auror, Weasley." He knew just where to prick the needle so that it would sting. "How typical of Potter's little sidekick."
Weasley retreated his hand, the surprise in his eye quickly giving way to anger, then put-upon indifference.
Hermione's look of crestfallen disappointment made Severus grit his teeth but there was no turning back now, and he just couldn't seem to help himself.
"I certainly hope you are better at your work than the 'Acceptable' you received in Defence suggested." He clasped his hands behind his back, feigning composure. "Or perhaps the standards of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement are not what they once were…"
"Severus!" Hermione looked up at him with murder in her eyes, and it took the practice of all of his years as a double agent to suppress the wince that threatened to escape.
Well done, Severus! What are we, in Primary School? Christ.
"Enough." Hermione huffed and rounded on him fiercely. "Ronald has brought us vital information and we need to act upon it immediately. As adults." She pointed her finger at his chest. "He also is my friend, Severus, and deserves to be treated with respect."
Her reaction caught him off-guard, though it really shouldn't have. Usually though, whenever he was grumpy or unreasonable, she would tease him about it, putting him in his place simply by telling him what a surly old bat he was. The anger directed at him as she defended her former flame threw him.
Weasley nodded, signalling his willingness to move onward. Severus knew that Hermione probably expected him to apologise, but as he looked into the accepting blue eyes, pettiness won out.
"Fine." He drawled lazily as he stuck his nose in the air, well aware that Weasley was the bigger man.
Hermione shook her head, exasperated. "We need to get to Yorkshire. Quickly. Harry is expecting us. There has been some progress on our mission." She took hold of his arm, with a little more force than was strictly necessary, then nodded to Weasley and twisted her body, dragging Severus along with her.
All he had time to think about after that, was that he was glad he'd had the presence of mind to don his cape.
They appeared in an empty meadow, close to a dilapidated barn. Nearby was a deserted farmhouse in equally run-down shape. The dead grass was long and yellow, and heavy October clouds cloaked the world in different shades of grey.
Potter was there, dressed in all black, along with five red-cloaked figures. A concealment charm protected the entire area where they stood, potent enough that two rabbits were peacefully digging the earth just outside its barrier.
Severus turned to whisper in Hermione's ear. "Why are there Aurors?" He could not quite keep the unease from his voice, and the last syllable sounded exceedingly sibilant.
"They're here to make an arrest for us." Hermione released his arm and waved to Potter. "Ron received information from an anonymous source yesterday evening, saying that the headquarters of the Vigilantes are inside of this barn."
Potter approached them. "We've verified the source." He adjusted his owlish spectacles. "Their leader supposedly lives here. If they can arrest him, we'll have the means necessary to stop this madness."
Severus eyed Dumbledore's old wand as Potter aimed it towards the farmhouse, his nonverbal homenum revelio easily scanning an area of at least a thousand acres. Being so close to the source of the strong magic, they all glowed a brilliant blue, and Potter's cheeks turned slightly pink when several eyebrows rose in his direction.
"Someone's in there all right." He signalled to Weasley. "Just one person. If you act quickly, you can take him by surprise. It is imperative that we get him into custody in one piece." He turned to Hermione. "Hermione. Snape. We will wait here until the Aurors have him. Then we'll have an opportunity to search the house."
Weasley stepped forward. "Disillusionment charms, everyone!"
The Aurors split into two groups before disappearing from sight. Weasley alone remained visible, and he slid his wand up his sleeve before starting toward the front door.
"Is that entirely safe?" Said Severus, more because he found this behaviour unnecessarily brash than out of concern for Weasley.
"Don't worry, Snape." Potter slapped his shoulder once and he grunted with displeasure. "Like I said before, the war is over. Besides, we have his back just fine from here."
This was probably true, considering Potter's prowess. The door opened after Weasley's polite knock, revealing a short and slight man in his late twenties with mousey brown hair. Severus was unable to make out his facial features, but from his left, he heard Hermione gasp.
Potter stepped forward as far as the concealment charm allowed him, straining to get a better look.
"Harry, it's Dennis!" Said Hermione, who obviously had the sharpest eyes of the three. "Dennis Creevey, Colin's little brother."
"Yes, I see it now," said Potter, as several Aurors appeared out of thin air around the young man, effectively relieving him of his wand.
Severus vaguely remembered having taught someone bearing that name. They had not been among his Slytherins though, and further details eluded him. He was about to walk closer when Potter held out an arm, stopping him.
"Don't." He retreated his hand when Severus scowled. "I don't think he should see us together just yet."
"Hm."
Potter then drew himself up, face determined, and exited the enchanted space.
Severus knew this was his chance to try and put things to right. He turned to Hermione. "With what I said earlier, Hermione, to Weasley. I know I was out of line."
"Well, quite," she said, frowning up at him, "it was rather rude, you know. Whatever made you attack him like that? Unprovoked, might I add."
Severus grimaced. "He's an Auror…"
Her raised eyebrow told him that this was not sufficient as an explanation, but it was all he was ready to reveal of himself.
"Forgive me?"
She sighed, but smiled crookedly a few beats later. "Yes, you git. I suppose so. But you should really apologise to Ron…"
He was saved from answering that, as a commotion from behind made Hermione tilt her head to look around his shoulder. He turned quickly, grateful to escape from the difficult conversation.
"…expected more from the man who vanquished Voldemort! Do you even know what his followers did to my family? To Colin?"
The agitated voice belonged to Creevey, who was being held tightly by Weasley. Potter shook his head, gesturing to the Aurors to take the prisoner away.
"He was killed in the final battle," said Hermione from Severus' right side. "Colin Creevey, that is. Their parents tried to hide in the muggle world, but I suppose it must have ended badly for them as well."
"Indeed."
When Weasley and his men had left, Potter raised a hand to remove his concealment charm and gestured them over. They started their investigation in the barn.
It consisted of a large room filled with low benches, arranged in a circular pattern with an open space in the middle.
"Creevey is their front-runner," said Potter, as they walked the perimeter of the room, "but he doesn't exactly strike me as the leader type, at least not what I remember from school."
"Quite," agreed Hermione, "but look at the way this room is laid out. This organisation doesn't look like it's lead by dictatorship, does it?"
She was right. There were no obvious place in the room where a person of higher rank would stand out from the crowd. From the flyers and banners spread around in disorder, it seemed more like a club for rebellious teenagers than a violent terrorist group.
There was nothing more of interest in the barn, and so they moved on to search the house.
Almost everything inside was muggle, from the electricity to the modern microwave in the kitchen. The house was neat and tidy, with everything a young man needed to go about his daily life. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and Severus and Potter had spent the good part of an hour, fruitlessly going through the bookshelves and crates in the small office when Hermione's voice called them from the living room.
She was sitting on the brown leather sofa, with a small, thin object on her lap, which he soon understood was a modern computer. "Look here," she pointed at the little screen, "I found an archive over their activities. This is it, Harry, this is all we need!"
They sat down beside her, and she started to pull up document upon document containing everything from rebellious propaganda to detailed plans of blackmailing and corruption of Ministry officers.
"Wait," said Severus, "what's that one?" He pointed at an icon with Selwyn's name on it.
Hermione opened the document. It was a description of Selwyn's house, his work, his friends and his habits. At the bottom of the document was typed a neat 'Completed'.
"So they did kill him."
"He is dead?" Asked Hermione. "How do you know?"
"Lucius Malfoy told me. I cannot testify to it myself, obviously, but Lucius is the biggest gossip I know of. No matter what happens, he is always the first to know."
"I suppose there must be a similar file with your name on it." It gratified him that Hermione sounded worried.
She scrolled further down, finding not only his own, but several other planned assassinations, most of them directed against former Death Eaters or politicians of the old, conservative sort.
"Yes," said Potter when they had looked through a few files pertaining to high-profile members of the Wizengamot. One of them had been reported missing six months prior; two others were as of yet unexplained deaths. "Finally. We have them now."
Hermione closed the 'lid' on the odd computer. "Yes, Harry. I believe you're right. This evidence is court valid." She patted the thing, and put it inside her bottomless purse. "We can give them all to Ron on a silver platter."
Severus frowned. "Exactly how is this going to help you arrest an entire organisation?" He asked, confused. "I can see that you have Creevey framed, but won't it be nearly impossible to find all of the other members? Not least to prove their link to Creevey and this archive?"
Potter and Hermione exchanged a look that made the hairs on his neck stand on end.
"Snape," said Potter seriously, "we need to talk. I suggest we all go back to the office."
Somehow, Severus knew that this was not a conversation he was going to enjoy.
A/N
I wanted to give you a wicked, female bad guy. Badly. Unfortunately, Google failed to dig up one with the appropriate background, and I refuse to revive Moaning Myrtle (who is too blubbering, and old-fashioned and just… no). Dennis was muggleborn, young, and his brother died, so there. Sorry, Creevey.
If you know of a young muggleborn witch with a grudge against the wizarding world, enlighten me, and I will happily change this.
And thank you, thank you, for reading and reviewing. You are all so clever, and loyal, and sweet. Your time and thoughts are precious gems.