Hello y'all! So, for my own convenience I'll combine the books with the movies when it comes to Seamus. It's nothing serious, but HP-experts beware. Thank you for all positive responses I got after the last chapter. I treasure each review, smile every time I see someone has put me on her/his Favorites lists, and give a dignified nod at every Alert. And I'm not ashamed to admit it! Anyway, this is sycamoretree to the tower; drama is ready for takeoff. Enjoy your flight!
Inspirational music: The beauty and the tragedy by Trading Yesterday
Chap. 32 Conflicts
Seamus Finnigan turned his head and observed her with suspicion mixed with a bit of boyish interest.
"I'm sorry, do I know ye?"
Hermione was reminded of her different body, the importance of keeping her identity concealed and the fact that Seamus was a half-blood. She had to handle this with the greatest care to not endanger any of them.
"Yes, I'm a friend from your year in Gryffindor."
As expected, Seamus straightened himself from his half-lying position on the couch and lifted one side of his jacket. He took out his wand from an inside pocket and aimed it straight but subtly at Hermione.
"Gryffindor ye say? Then tell me something about me only a Gryffindor would know." His eyes were half lidded to a vigilant stare and Hermione rummaged in panic through her memories.
"When we were in Third year and studied the boggart in DADA, it turned into a banshee when you met it."
Seamus frowned before he raised the wand slightly and hissed out, "I need something better." At that, Hermione realized that their lesson with Lupin had been shared with the Slytherins too. She should have thought of that.
"Okay, but what about that time in Fifth year when you were in your dormitory and almost got into a fight with Harry because you didn't believe the Dark Lord was back?"
This time Seamus looked amazed and whispered hoarsely, despite the protecting noise from the instruments, "Only my mates from the dormitory were there that time. Who are ye? Scarhead? King?"
Relieved that he actually believed her, as he lowered his wand, Hermione understood his none too obvious names for Harry and Ron. She shook her head and let out, "S.P.E.W."
For a moment Seamus was stunned as if processing her answer before his eyes widened and he launched himself at her arm and brutally pulled her down onto the couch before he looked round as if expecting a danger luring nearby.
"Hermione? What the bleeding hell are ye doing here?" he whispered urgently and his anxiety fuelled Hermione's own.
She leaned closer to his ear and said barely audibly, "I don't have much time, Seamus. I've taken a Polyjuice Potion. Tell me the biggest news, please."
Seamus swallowed before he grunted.
"Alright. I'm not at Hogwarts anymore because ma wanted me to come home. Things are horrible at school now. The Carrow siblings are teaching and punish the students when we're objecting to their pureblood propaganda. But there's not safe just 'cause ye're out of school. I've been hiding here ever since I left Hogwarts and I think I'm better off than the ones who are on the run in England. I listen to Potterwatch whenever I can and the new trend for the Dark Lord is to capture people who in some way know Scarhead. Every time I listen, there's reports of new abductions. Our side didn't know about your fate until the Order freed Scarhead and King and they told them. We haven't heard a thing from ye for months! Some of us were beginning to think ye were dead, S.P.E.W."
Seamus hunched his shoulders as if the tragedy of his news even affected him physically. Hermione wanted to comfort him but knew she did not have the time. She looked around to see if Scabior was done with his conversation but could not see him in anywhere.
"Don't worry, Sea. I'm in safety at the moment. But I'm going to return to England soon and I wonder if you have any contact with anyone in the Order."
She spoke quickly and Seamus looked up at her with sincere eyes before he beckoned her closer. Acting like a young woman together with a young man, she leaned on his shoulders and brushed her blonde hair away from her ear which rested right beside his mouth.
"I can get into touch with Ginny. I think she'll be able to send a Patronus to people in the Order and ask for passwords or locations to their safe houses. Maybe they'll even send someone over to get ye here."
Now, Seamus began to regain hope and for some reason, Hermione got the feeling this was not the first time he came up with a dangerous but ingenious plan.
"Really good thinking there, Sea. I think I'll be able to get away later tonight. Tell Ginny to pass along the message to the Order that I'll be waiting by this pub until dawn. Just don't, you know, reveal too much in case the message gets intercepted."
Seamus snorted and threw an arm around her sholders as any normal boyfriend would do with a normal girlfriend.
"S.P.E.W, I'm in the reestablished DA, or was when I was at Hogwarts not long ago. We've learnt how to play the game and fool these disgusting Death Eaters."
Hermione turned her head again and discovered that Scabior stood by the bar and talked with his mother. Again she felt a torturing pain stab her when she understood her departure was imminent and she would have to lie to him despite her breaking heart so he would not suspect anything. She heard Seamus turn his head too before he ducked down and dragged Hermione sideways so they could not be seen by anyone behind the couch.
"What's wrong? Is it him?" Seamus mumbled hurriedly as he tensed the hand holding his wand.
Hermione laid her hand over his and whispered in a calming tone, "No, I'm not in danger and neither are you. That's just the man I've been living with since my capture."
"Ye're a prisoner? He looks like he's on the Dark side. Don't worry, I'll get ye out of the pub now and bring ye to my home. My family will protect ye until you can travel back to England."
Hermione drew back from him with averted eyes. So much to tell and so little time. But she could not bear leaving Scabior just yet. There were still hours she needed so she in secret could say goodbye. Some hours. Many minutes. And yet too few seconds.
"Thank you for your brave offer, but I'm really fine with him. Trust me, Seamus, and send that message to Ginny. And don't meet me here tonight; it's too much of a risk for you with your blood status. And I would hate it if the plan fails and they take you as well."
Seamus grinded his teeth and regarded her grimly.
"You don't have to act valiant in front of me. I know the risks and I'll do what I think is right. I don't like the look of that man. Come with me now." His voice had turned insistent and Hermione had to fight the urge to defend Scabior.
"I'm perfectly serious and I said no," she responded curtly when a shadow fell over the table.
"Something wrong, love?" Scabior said in an ice cold voice that made Hermione's stomach lurch. She almost did not dare to look at him standing by their table.
Suddenly he grabbed her white cardigan and roughly hauled her up from the couch and away from Seamus. Scabior placed her behind him but kept the firm grip on the fabric and muttered so only she and Seamus could hear, "Love, tell me right now what that fucking wanker did to you."
Despite the turmoil of emotions already clouding her mind and the confusion of having to explain things so both of the men could understand, Hermione grasped Scabior's hand desperately and tried to avoid disaster.
"Scabior, it's not what it looks like! He was my friend at Hogwarts." She saw Scabior move his head slowly up and down as if sizing up Seamus who did not lean back any longer but frowned with sharp eyes at Scabior.
"Was? So he's not a friend anymore? Why then did he have his paws all over you?"
Hermione knew by the way he talked and the way his body began to tremble that Scabior was beginning to get furious and undoubtedly prepared to either pounce on Seamus or hex him. Seamus abandoned the apparent stare-duel with Scabior and eyed Hermione with concern. "Remember my offer."
Hermione held her breath and everything in the pub, even the sounds were drowned out as she awaited the next, expected move. Scabior whipped her around so she stood beside him, her pink dress twirling like the women's who were dancing at this very moment, but Hermione's dance was one she would rather flee from. Scabior growled at her and she lifted her eyes to meet his nearly black pools of fire ready to be unleashed. And she had to forbid her own eyes from conjuring water to extinguish his murderous, mad look that also held some hurt.
"What the fuck is 'e on about?" What offer? Answer me!"
At the last words, Scabior screamed and had it not been for his hand holding her cardigan, Hermione would have sunk to the floor, too tired and frightened to stand anymore. She had to protect Scabior and Seamus at the same time, calm Scabior down so he would not have all his attention fixed on her the entire night and find the strength to say goodbye, perhaps for all time to him. Scabior had been wrong. The war was always present and destroyed people and their lives.
She glanced at Seamus who, unnoticed by Scabior, pointed his finger at the wand in his other hand which was partly hidden under the table. She shook her head before she gazed with pleading eyes upon her lover.
Lying in front of enemies is easy; it's survival. But to lie in front of lovers and friends is harder because they minutely know the person before them and might see through lies. Then again, when it comes to lie for the sake of lover's and friends' survival; that is when lies become easy to tell and make believable. Because one does what one must to protect and spare the people one loves.
"Scabior, calm down. He just offered buying me a drink but I declined. No harm done."
And once more, whether it was luck or an answer from some deity, he fell for her bait. Though his jaw remained set, the black fires vanished from his usually warm eyes. He breathed out heavily and Hermione detected a scent she had smelt before on him, in his tent when she was cooking him a stew. His face was flushed but suddenly he blinked and shook his head like a dizzy dog. He let go of the white fabric and instead cupped her chin to search her face.
"Truth, love?"
Hermione ignored Seamus' confused expression and focused solely on Scabior. She gently slid her hand around the arm beneath her head and said with a steady voice, "Yes. But the time, Scabior."
Her subdued reminder made him tense and lower his arm. He allowed her to keep her hand on him and she would certainly not waste another chance to touch him before her departure. As in a haze, she felt Scabior's arm wound around her waist and escort her away from Seamus. Nothing needed to be said between Seamus and Hermione; both knew that the plan was in his hands now.
Some people peered out from their booths or turned their heads too look at her and Scabior but they soon returned to their drinking and dancing. Scabior brought her through the entrance and took to the left immediately, walking briskly along the house wall. The onslaught of darkness outside made it difficult for Hermione to see where she stepped and occasionally she tripped on the uneven ground which forced Scabior to steady her before he continued in his own pace. They went around the corner and the windows provided them with some light which helped Hermione.
The pub was a very large house and had some rooms behind the bar room, because she could spot a kitchen and a bedroom through two windows. She assumed it was Toby's quarters. She turned her eyes to the broad back displayed at her side and she started to chew on her lip. If Scabior was alright he would not drag her like this in the darkness. He turned another corner and she had to follow.
Scabior had been able to keep his anger at bay so far but now his control slipped and he began to feel waves of heat roll off him in spite of the cooling air surrounding him. He looked at the wall beside him and was pleased with what he saw; no windows. Not even the upper floors had windows facing the backside of the house. Thus, it was darker here with the absence of golden light and only a grass field stretched out as far as he could see. He did not have the patience to disapparate home with Hermione. This privacy would have to do.
By tugging at her, he sent her into the wall, not violently but firmly before he placed his palms against the wall on either side of her head. He did not like her taller form but she looked scared enough anyway. He closed his eyes and pictured the girl he was so used to huddling before him as he inhaled and said silkily, "Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Through his sealed lids he imagined how she flicked her eyes unsurely before he heard her quiet voice. "What's the matter, Scabior?"
He laughed humorlessly and opened his eyes so they were only slits as he leaned closer into her.
"What's the matter? I'll tell you what's the matter. You must've believed I was a complete brainless fucker if you thought I was gonna buy that shitload of bullshit from you in there." He surveyed her expression like a hawk but her different face seemed void of emotion.
"I don't understand what you mean."
Her indifference infuriated him and with a snarl he punched the wall which proved to be a painful but adequate outlet for his rage.
"Do you need explanations? Fine, and listen well to me now. How could that fucking brat recognize you when you've taken a Polyjuice potion with a hair from probably not a Hogwarts student?"
She wetted her lips with her tongue but Scabior was beyond getting distracted by such actions.
"I saw him sitting there and thought we could talk for a while. After some safety questions we knew it really was safe."
The snatcher within havocked and Scabior shook from the exertion of not surrendering his sanity.
"So you're saying that you revealed your identity just like that, in a pub full of people, not even bothering to use a silencing charm. That's fucking brilliant, Hermione Granger."
The last, sarcastic sentence had her eyes flash and suddenly she muttered in a sardonic tone, "Actually, I thought casting a spell would be far more suspicious than two people talking confidentially. People would have sensed the magic in the air."
Scabior did not acknowledge her argument and went on. "Talking? It looked more like he had his filthy tongue in your ear. What else did he do? What was his offer?"
She frowned and crossed her arms before her. He did not like that either.
"He and I are friends, nothing more and nothing less! We only talked silently so no-one would overhear and know he is a half-blood, okay?"
Her voice was stern but Scabior would not shy away.
"And his offer?"
She remained silent. And he was so afrid it concerned her plan to leave.
"Answer me!" he yelled and caught both her wrists and lifted them to press them into the wall behind her, securing them there with his strong muscles. She fought against her human bonds and whimpered but Scabior would not budge until he got his answers.
With a broken sob she replied, "I can't tell you! It's about the secret I share with Harry and Ron. I promised I wouldn't tell anyone else. Seamus only had some relevant information."
"Liar! Ya're lyin' ta my face! Ta me!"
He could not hide the hurt and the feeling of betrayal from his bellow.
She stopped moving and whispered, "Perhaps I am not lying. Perhaps you are simply not trusting me."
Scabior's face became grey and he released her arms which fell down listlessly at her sides. Suddenly he was incapable of breathing in her presence and strode away in a small circle, letting the gentle breeze cool his body, though to be honest he would prefer to have it numbed but the time available was not enough. It never was.
He turned back to her but now kept a distance between them. He could not stand touching her at the moment. However, his small peace of mind was disturbed when she touched another sense in him; with her scent. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The fine whiskey had begun to kick in for real even though he wished to remain sober during this moment.
He let out with a wounded tone he had never used before, "Don't accuse me of not trusting you. 'cause I trusted you would tell me about your trip to England. I've waited almost two weeks for you to share it with me, to fucking enlighten me about what we'll do. But I was a stupid fool, wasn't I, Hermione. You're not gonna take me with you. You want to leave without me."
She raised her hands and covered her face as her body started to convulse. She was changing back but that was not why she shivered like a leaf in the now baggy dress and the cardigan with too long sleeves. Her knees buckled and Scabior watched her slide down the wall until she sat on her haunches and hid her face from view. His heart ached when seeing her in such distress and all energy had left him and he was afraid that if he moved one step towards her, he would crumble too.
"I don't want to leave you. Oh, Godric, I can't bear the thought! But I have to. I have to."
It was as if she talked more to herself than to him and somehow, that troubled Scabior far more than her tears.
"Hey, hey, love. I admit I'm a bit pissed off but it won't matter now. I'll join you."
She gulped and looked up at him, which made new tears stream down her face. "No. No, you can't."
He grew tired of her unreasonable protests and marched forward to help her up. Immediately she threw her arms around his neck and buried her wet face in his coat and cried silently. Scabior would have preferred exploring her face as they talked but he guessed Hermione was too upset. Instead, he held her shoulders and her head against him and sometimes caught her muffled voice, each time confronting it with logical objections.
"It's too dangerous. You could die."
"When they gave me the tattoo I knew what I was signing up for. Half my life has been dangerous. And about the dying part, you could die too and that would kill me. Let me come with you and protect you with everything I have."
"Harry and Ron would mistrust you and not allow you to accompany us. They wouldn't understand…us."
"Tell them it's either me and you or no Hermione at all. And if you cared about what others think concerning your private businesses, I doubt you would have started this relationship with me. The boys will have to learn to accept us."
"There are some things about the Dark Lord we can't tell you and eventually you'll get frustrated when you think you can't help us."
"All I care about is your welfare, treasure. And people have kept secrets from me before. It'll be fine."
"You can't follow."
"Yes, I can."
"No!" Hermione wrenched herself from his grasp and shoved him in the chest so he almost lost his balance. She paced back and forth between him and the wall while she waved her hands.
"It's all different now. We will act recklessly because of each other. And what happens if we get caught again? Do you remember, Scabior? When Bellatrix beat me, tortured me, until my blood ran along the marble in the Malfoy Manor. Imagine if the same thing happened again only it would go on for hours or maybe even days like it did for Harry and Ron. You would be forced to stand and watch, unable to help me as I scream and bleed and…"
"Shut up! I fuckin' remember, dammit! Don't ya think it's 'auntnin' me, too? Whenever ya're not around I'm fuckin' scared shitless something will 'appen ta ya. My snatcher, it…fuck! My whole being is terrified for you! That's how weak and how strong I am, Hermione. I depend on you being safe. Don't ask of me to stay here and look the other way as you run off."
He panted and frantically took in her appearance, needing the reassurance of seeing every detail he adored. Her red, puffy cheeks, the trembling lips, the loose and wild hair and her familiar and yet always alluring body. He was positive he knew her better than anyone else did and that included her sould and her personality.
She lifted her chin in defiance and uttered, "That's how I feel for you too. I don't want to lose you, Scabior. I love you."
He stood like a solid statue, finally numbed to his bones. Her pools of chocolate mocha were locked on his. He saw warmth. He saw beauty. He saw light. He saw her. And he saw love.
As a ghost, he floated through the night and reached her; his life, his treasure and backed her up against the wall to steady both of them.
"What did ya say, woman?" he croaked and felt a lump in his throat he had hardly ever experienced. She lifted those graceful fingers and laid them flat on his chest.
Not enough.
He took her hand carefully and roughly undid the top buttons on his green jacket. Her fingers were cool and soft and he guided them inside, shuddering when they swept over his chest hair before he pulled at the wrist and placed her hand directly over his heart. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers as he breathed in her scent of vanilla and summer flowers.
"Say it again, beautiful."
She sniffed before she repeated in an emotional whisper, "I love you, Scabior, my love. I…care so much about you. I can't help it."
"Shhh. Don't apologize for that, love. But I'm sorry for the way I behaved and screamed at you. But you know why, with your perceptive mind, don't you? You hold my heart. My heart is carried by your cool, gentle, and careful hand. You've carried it for a long time already. You've done what as far as I know has never happened before. You captured the heart of a snatcher, love."
He moved further into her, forcing her hand to press harder into him so she would feel his heartbeats.
"And as the non-masochistic and egoistical bastard I am, I'll die without it and without you. Hermione, I love you. I can't let you walk away alone. Because your holding my heart."
He suddenly felt very fragile and utterly exposed and he blinked away threatening tears, blaming the alcohol in his system for making his eyes water. But his words were true and honest and now he waited, for what? Mercy? Forgiveness? Verdict?
And then, Hermione conveyed with a gesture what she evidently could not with words.
She removed her hand, bowed her head and graced his heart with a kiss.
She lingered at his chest, crushing her full lips to him, moving them softly sideways, not seeking to arouse him but to touch him. He cupped her face and tipped it back as he brushed away the evidence of her tears.
"Don't go without me." It was a pitiful plea from his poor but tangible soul.
"Okay."
Every ounce of fight left him and he dove in for a kiss. He needed to feel she forgave him for the argument. His worry was in vain, for she met him boldly with open mouth and quickly sought out his tongue. He inhaled sharply and felt his heart speed up, pumping love and desire for her into his hot blood.
After mingling their tongues until he was more aroused than ever, he broke off the kiss and rested his head in the crook of her neck. Right there he detected a foreign scent and began to lick and kiss away the foul smell from the obnoxious boy. It was an instinct he could not ignore. Hermione should only smell like herself or like him.
"Let's go home, sweetheart. We need to be alone with each other."
She moaned from his delicious assault on her neck and nodded. Not bothering walking anywhere else, Scabior held her close to his chest and disapparated from the pub.
Okay, I really loved some of the lines I wrote for this chapter. I love myself. Review if you want a happy author (pouting). Love you!