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Ever Yours,
SunnyBunny99
Chapter V
"All clear," delcared Mad-Eye as he rode back from a corpse of ash trees that he had been sent to scout for security.
"We'll set up here for the night." Snape's rumbling voice brooked no argument as he swung off his stallion and led the group to their designated campsite.
Hermione groaned lowly as she slid—still clumsy and stiff—from her own saddle. Her mare, whom she had since named Enya from that morning, followed her without prompting. Tonks set a Barrier Charm to keep the horses contained and they began unpacking and unsaddling as Snape and Podmore pitched tents.
When Hermione was finished, she set her tack with the others' and gaped at what she saw waiting in the trees. Seven white canvas tents had been erected in a semicircle around a large fire pit which was now crackling merrily, its large flames all the shifting colors of the rainbow. It splashed vivid dancing light on the blank sides of the tents and low-lit the faces of the knights clustered around, warming their cold and tired bodies from the day's ride. Snape was nowhere to be seen as Tonks ushered Hermione over to stand between her and Remus. "Why are there only eight tents when there are nine of us?" The young woman asked.
Tonks smiled down at her, "Because Remus and I share one, of course!"
"Oh. Right," Hermione muttered, slightly embarrassed at her lack of common sense. Tonks flicked her wand and a set of tree stumps grew out of the ground, perfectly situated for each person according to their height and just the right distance from the fire to be warm but not overly so. They all settled down and Kingsley reached into a satchel by his side to begin passing out paper-wrapped parcels tied with twine. Hermione opened hers and found a chunk of raw venison with a couple slices of onion, some pale cheese and a handful of nuts. Around her, the Order of the Phoenix was drawing their swords, then taking the meat and onion to skewer and hold over the fire. Hermione scrabbled around in the shrubs nearby for a minute before finding a smallish stick and bringing it back—"Tonks, could you sharpen this for me, please?"
The older witch's sparkling eyes fell on the stick and she scoffed. "Aw, hell, Hermione! All you had to do was ask to borrow my blade—here, I'm done with it for now; take it." Pulling the sizzling meat and onion from the steel, Tonks extended the pommel of the sword to Hermione, who took it.
Tonks' sword in her grip felt somehow good and yet not quite right at the same time. It was weighted nicely, but wasn't perfectly balanced for her and it felt too long. Pushing aside the nagging desire to try swinging it, Hermione skewered her dinner and held it over the flames.
"So," said Mad-Eye, "how did you like your first ride with the Order?"
"Not very much, to be honest," Hermione confessed. "I'm quite sore and a bit bruised."
All around her the armor-clad fighters laughed. "Occupational hazard, love," said Hestia Jones. "Once we get into the best part of this quest, saddle soreness will be the least of your worries, trust me."
A silence settled over the group then, more grim than awkward. Finally, after clearing her throat and pulling the sword from the fire, Hermione dared to ask the question she had wondered since the war had begun. "Have any of you ever...seen him?"
"The Dark Lord?" asked Moody in a growl, and Hermione nodded. "No one here...except him," he said, jerking his head in the direction of Snape's tent.
"That much is obvious, seeing that he served that slit-nosed bastard for twenty years," Sirius sneered.
"Sirius, watch yourself," Tonks warned. "You know he listens."
"Let him listen! And he can know that I'd love to see him bend over and—"
"Black."
Sirius flinched and they all turned to see Snape standing behind them, his severe features bathed in a striking mix of shifting color and deep shadow. The flames flared bright scarlet and cast an almost demonic light to his fathomless black eyes. "Surely you haven't forgotten the extensive reach of the Dark Lord's power," he said, his deep voice a sibilant hiss. "Perhaps you need a small reminder that the Death Eaters are some of the most powerful wizards and warriors in existence, and that yes, I did serve as the Dark Lord's right-hand man." He stepped closer, towering over them, his tone intensifying.
"Tell me then, Black, you mutt; when was the last time you looked Death in the face and lied to him? When was the last time you were forced to watch innocents die because they had no magic in their blood? Tell me, Black."
Sirius' flushed face glared back for several long and silent moments before he muttered, "I'm not hungry anymore," and stalked into the nearest tent. His sword still lay by the fire with his food.
Snape stared after him for a long while with narrowed eyes before turning back to the rest of the Order. "Pardon the...intrusion. I was simply going to ask Granger if she had done her magic practice with Nymphadora today."
Hermione blanched. "I...no, I haven't."
Thin lips tightened and he nodded curtly. "I thought as much. Finish your meal and see to it." His piece said, he returned to duck inside his tent once more and disappear from sight.
"Why doesn't he eat out here with the rest of you?" Hermione mused, taking a bite of onion with venison.
Sturgis Podmore snorted. "If you hadn't noticed, he isn't exactly what you'd call a people person. He has major paranoia...jumpy as a squirrel." He shook his head.
"From the first war, no doubt," interjected Moody.
Podmore scoffed. "Are you defending him, Mad-Eye?"
"Yes, I am, because I'm in the same boat, laddie!" Mad-Eye snapped. "You don't the hell on earth that battle wreaks on someone's mind until you're living it. These aren't beauty marks, you know." He waved a fat finger at his own deep, jagged facial scars. "So I suggest you keep your flappy gob shut unless you actually know what you're talking about." With one last snort he heaved his steel-covered bulk up from the tree stump and hobbled away into an empty tent.
The remaining company members stared after him in mild shock; Podmore muttered something unintelligible under his breath and left the circle as well. Hestia Jones gave an exaggerated frown and licked steaming blood from her fingers before speaking to Hermione—"Never thought you'd see this much drama amongst a bunch of full-grown men, eh?"
The girl giggled softly. "No, I suppose not."
"It flares up every now and again," the other woman said dismissively. "It's bound to, really, what with all of us being together day in and day out for so long. Don't mind them, though; Sirius just likes to try and take stabs at Snape, Snape bites back and the whole thing blows up, story over."
"Do you think they'll actually fight?" asked Hermione. "Physically, I mean."
"It's come damn close a few times," Tonks said, "but no, I don't reckon so. If anything can be said for him, Snape is good at being the bigger man. Ultimately, he's more mature...less emotionally volatile than Sirius. Reckon that's why Lord Dumbledore chose him to lead."
They finished their repast in comfortable quiet, listening to the wind in the trees and the chorus of crickets and owls. "C'mon, Hermione," said Tonks at length as she got up, "let's get that magic lesson done with, yeah?"
Forty-five minutes later they returned to the campfire, which had since been abandoned and burnt down to smoldering embers. "Remus and I will be in that tent if you need anything," said Tonks, pointing. "You feeling alright?"
Hermione nodded. "Just a bit tired, I suppose."
"Magic does that," Tonks shrugged. "You'll get stronger, more used to it." She left the young woman with a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Goodnight, Hermione."
"Goodnight, Tonks," replied Hermione. When Tonks had gone into her tent, she sat by the dead fire again, plucking a blade of grass and twirling it absently in her fingers. She was tired but somehow still unable to sleep.
Fifteen minutes or so later a soft rustle caught her attention, and Hermione perked up to see a tall, slender silhouette rise from a tent. It was Snape, out of his armor and dressed in a long black cloak over a loose tunic with baggy trousers and thick boots. There was a pendant 'round his neck too, a silver chain holding a green stone which flashed as it swung.
Standing tall and still, Snape seemed to taste the cold night air before moving again. The fire was gone by now, so Hermione doubted he could see her sitting there in the darkness. He paused at the edge of the trees around the campsite and murmured, "Not a word, Granger," before rippling away and melting into the night around them.
The fright gave Hermione such a jolt of adrenaline that she got hardly a wink of sleep for the rest of that night.