A/N- I am so… SO sorry for the extremely long wait for this next chapter. Due to lack of any other reason than chalking it up to severe writers block, I will blame it on school. College is evil. Pure and simply evil, lol. Anyway, I hope that you like this chapter, a little bit morbid at the end, but it starts to answer some questions for you.
Disclaimer- I claim nothing but Snape-Grabs him.- (Snape folds his arms. "Honestly woman, will you come off it? I am not real.")
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Chapter 17- Constance MonroeThe next day Hermione went back to the lab, thoroughly disturbed as to why her Master had not shown up for breakfast that day. She hurried through her own breakfast and then run to the dungeons in worry. Why hadn't he shown up? He had become impressively worse since she started to worry about him a full week ago. It simply wasn't like him not to show up for breakfast…
She entered the room swiftly, the door charmed so that all she had to do was think the password for it to open. She smiled at the sweet sounding words, wondering what they meant. A domicilia nemuritor în eternitate… From the way the words were spelled, she believed them to be Romanian, just like the book he had given her to study for the assignment. Perhaps she would look it up when she had access to the dictionary again. But first of all, where was Snape? He wasn't in the lab either… Wait…
On the table where she had been 'failing' her experiments, as she was entirely convinced that she wasn't at fault for the failures, was a note. She quickly opened it and read the short, spiky script of her Master.
Miss Granger,
I have something new planned for you. Meet me in my library.
-S.S.
She pursed her brows together briefly. That was odd… What could he possibly have planned for her? As of yet she had not finished the potion, even though she should have by now, not to mention he hadn't spoken to her in the past few days. Confusion and curiosity suddenly replaced her worry as she rushed over to the library. The moment that the door opened, she was greeted with the sight of an annoyed looking Snape, who was standing near the door with his accustomed scowl on his face and arms crossed. "It is about time, Miss Granger, we have things to do."
She immediately broke out in a smile at his words, causing him to raise his brow at her. "If there is a reason for smiling, I have missed it. So, if you wouldn't mind telling me, what is it you find so amusing?" He couldn't be serious could he?
She opened and closed her mouth a moment, trying to figure how to answer when his eyes suddenly went wide. He quickly turned from her. A surprised sounding Oh… suddenly echoed inside her head. Did he just say that?
"Get over here Miss Granger." She quickly walked over to him, and he turned around, wand out. "Finite incantatum. There, you may speak again. Talking will be required for this next assignment."
"Next assignment?"
He smirked at her as he took care of his wand. "My, it has not even been a full minute since I gave you your voice back, and already you ask questions." He suddenly grabbed hold of her shoulders and pressed her to him, causing her to squeak. Before she could try to push him away from her, he bent down and whispered, "You will find out when we get there," and the two of them apparated before she could respond.
He had debated the decision the entire night. He didn't want to do it. It would be easier this way, but it did not mean that he wanted to take her here. He was planning on next summer, once she was more used to him. But… But it was only a matter of time before the side effects would kick in, and who knew exactly how strong they would be? And now that she had her voice back, it would not take her long to decipher her way through the frame and release the trapped person inside. A person he loathed to see, yet he could not bring himself to banish the portrait entirely. That was the only reason it still hung in his library.
The moment they finished apparating, he pushed the girl away from him as if she were diseased. He did NOT want to do this. Unfortunately, it was needed. She needed to know. Minerva was right, she had the right to know what she was in for, and the right to know who his Master was. But he refused to tell her. But he knew who could tell her, who could inform her of just enough of what the girl needed to know. The woman lived here, in these forbidden walls…
He stood facing away from the building that he had brought her to, refusing to acknowledge it, even though he was merely a few feet away. He hated this place. McCarthy Mansion, the place he spent most of his childhood, outside of Hogwarts. "Miss Granger, your assignment is to learn the art of silence. Within this mansion is the person who will teach you this. I will be back in a week to retrieve you. While here, make use of the labs. I desire the potion I have taught you these past few weeks to be completed. Do not worry about the hair of the recipient, I will take care of that later, and use your own blood. Have fun." He apparated back to Hogwarts and sighed.
He should have at least brought her to the door and introduced her, but he couldn't face the woman who lived there. He had used her in his many manipulations when he was younger, toyed with her and in the end tossed her aside. He had lied to himself earlier. Someone loved him once, had loved him so much that she had helped him do what he needed to in order to become a Potions Master. But he never spoke to her again. He fully joined the Deatheaters and made his point known, that he never even liked her to begin with. He had purposefully watched her crumble, watched as part of her died, and he had laughed. He had laughed at her…
No, he could never return, not after that. Even though he regretted it, even if he apologized, even though he had tried to make amends for the things he did. It was too late for him. There would never be forgiveness from her. Never. At least Hermione would learn what his Master had been like, that even as horrid as he was to her, he was nothing like his own Master. She would learn why Diggory McCarthy's only daughter would even think about, let alone agree to, helping someone kill her own father, even if she was only being used for that purpose.
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Hermione stood in front of the mansion for a long moment, a sense of dread filling her. It was dark, rundown, and had all but 'DO NOT ENTER' written on the door. She took a deep breath, and knocked. Almost immediately, the oversized doors were thrown back, exposing an elaborately dressed house elf. The creature's eyes narrowed at her. "Who are you? Wretch doesn't let anyone visit the Mistress. The Mistress demands never to be bothered." The little elf's hands suddenly crossed over its chest and scowled at her.
She had to suppress a laugh. She suddenly felt as if this were Snape's childhood home. The creature had the same mannerisms that he did. "My name is Hermione Granger. Master Snape literally dropped me on the doorstep here, with just the instructions that I am supposed to 'learn the art of silence.' I apologize if he gave no warning."
"Snape?" The elf squinted its eyes as Hermione nodded. "Wretch wants Miss Hermione to follow to the Mistress then." It then turned around and walked quickly inside.
Hermione followed it, quickly getting lost in the large maze of corridors, rooms and hallways. After what seemed like an hour, the elf stopped. "Is this it?"
The elf turned to her and hissed, "Stay," and popped out of the room.
She sighed and sat down on one of the large sofas that decorated the large room. The creature that led her here was odd… and extremely Snape-like. She idly wondered if the woman would have the same sort of attitude as… What was it the creature called itself? Wretch? No wonder the thing was sour. Perhaps she was related to Kreacher…
The door across from her suddenly opened, and a woman appeared. She was, simply put, exquisite. Hermione's eyes widened, the woman was perfect, she had deep red hair, a narrow face, tall, and… She felt a sudden rush of envy as she stared at the woman. It was no fair… Why couldn't she have hair like that?
"Sorry for that, Wretch isn't used to company." The woman waved her hand and an ottoman moved in front of Hermione, and the woman sat down on it. "Oh… You're staring at me, I hope you notice. Ignore the envy, it is a natural reaction to me, and believe it or not, most men feel envy as well."
Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot. "Oh… Sorry."
The woman waived her hand in dismissal. "It's fine. So, what brings you here?"
"I'm sorry, my name is Hermione Granger. I am Master Snape's apprentice, and he said-"
"Snape's apprentice? You must be joking, he would never take an… Oh dear. Never mind… You don't seem the type for it though…"
"What? Type for what? What are you talking about?"
"My turn to apologize, I suppose. I am getting ahead of myself. What did he send you for? I thought I would never hear from him again. Well, I suppose I am not, but, in a way I am."
Hermione watched the woman blankly as she continued to talk to herself, reasoning the logic of it out. Her envy quickly faded as the talking went on. "Um, if you wouldn't mind, who exactly are you?"
The woman's attention returned to her. "He didn't tell you then?" When there was no response, she whispered, "That would figure." She smiled, holding out her hand. "Then let me introduce myself. My name is Constance. Constance Monroe."
"Pleasure. Snape said that he sent me here to learn the art of silence. Whatever that means."
Constance's face suddenly fell, and looked as if she saw something far away, whispering, "Let me teach you the art of silence, and life will cease to be. For without life there is no pain, and without pain there is no memory…" She suddenly came back, and looked to Hermione. "It is a speech my Father would give his apprentices- every one of them. He hated noise, preferred absolute stillness. He once killed one of his apprentices for simply crying out when my Father was piercing a knife into his hand. Lets just say it wasn't a pretty sight when he was finished." She looked away. "The ministry never cares what happens during an apprenticeship. They look the other way, no matter how bad it is. I am guessing that, as he didn't say who I was, he never mentioned who my Father was either."
Hermione shook her head. "No, he didn't."
"I thought as much. Follow me." Constance stood and went out the door she came in, stopping long enough only to make sure that Hermione was following her. "Severus must have faith in you, to take you on. He once told me he would never take an apprentice, unless he was absolutely sure they could handle it. He only planned to have one." She stopped suddenly, almost making Hermione run into her. "He believes that I loathe him for what he did to me. If he knew the truth of it, he would never have sent you here, that I am sure. I know him better than anyone; even Albus Dumbledore himself does not know the way his mind works. But I watched him…" She turned again, "Watched him most of my life. He was an obsession with me, he was different, and he came here long before he… Ah... here we are. Walk through this door."
Hesitantly, she opened the door before her, and gasped at the sight before her eyes. This woman was crazy. It was Snape… everywhere. Photos, paintings, articles. Everywhere. "What in the…"
There was a whisper in her ear. "I have collected these for years. My Father was oppressive, and he… Snape that is… He was different. After he left, I had to know everything that went on with his life, that he would be all right. I am glad to know his miraculous streak of life continues on. A spy for the Order, very dangerous work. Not to mention he should have died during the war. Not to mention many times before all that. He never knew about this room, if he did, I am sure, as I said before, that he would never have let you come here. I cannot let him have his way, I know him, and I cannot let him…" She suddenly grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "Drop me."
Hermione, in her fear and confusion, was suddenly falling through the floor in the arms of the woman Snape had left her with. They stopped falling, and they were in a darkened room. "What are you going to do to me?"
Constance laughed. "You honestly think that I… No, don't answer that. I'm sorry. I do not mean to scare you. I simply need to tell you a few things about Snape that I am sure he does not want me to tell you. He probably sent you here to learn about his tutelage in very minute detail, along with 'a nice lesson in silence to reduce the headaches' as he would probably say. I hate to burst his bubble, though I will teach you these things, but I have a secret or two to tell you of his. And I will let you know more about his Master than he believes I would tell you. I hope you aren't awfully squeamish, are you?"
"I guess not. Why do you ask?"
"I ask because my Father was a sick man, and had to keep a visual record of the things he did."
When Constance clapped, the lights flicked on, and Hermione suddenly felt bile rise in her throat. Merlin! "Oh gods…" Tears blurred her vision. "No more… please… Oh gods…" It suddenly went dark.
"You see then. Snape mostly grew up here, and I hear that he had it worse before this. His mother… My Father even called her a monster. That one… That story is not mine to tell. But here, concerning Diggory McCarthy, I can tell you everything. Even that which was before Snape. I saw everything, at least Snape didn't know anything until he was talked into the apprenticeship, but I saw things… Horrible things, things no one should see, let alone know of."
Hermione sobbed. All she could see in her mind was images of death, of blood, of mutilated people beyond recognition, of vile acts and the one that stood out most in her mind was that of Snape himself, violently shaking in the moving photograph, but showing nothing else, not even pain as he worked on a potion, long blades pierced through his skin on one side of his back until they came out the other side, so many of them, he looked like he was sweating red. "Oh gods…"
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A/N- Well, there it is, the long, very, very long awaited chapter 17. I hoped you liked it, and as always, please review, as I love to get them. I am about halfway through chapter 18, so it should be up within the next week or so.