Title: Blue October, Volume One – Chapter Twenty-Six.
Author: Woodland Goddess.
Rated: M
Author's Note: Yay, another update! Thanks to all those who have read/reviewed/favourited/followed this fic! Hope you enjoy this chapter; feel free to let me know!
Chapter Twenty-Six: Hemmingway House
"Everyone in the car," ordered Mr Evans grouchily, hefting four heavy duffel bags into the boot of his red Jaguar MK 2. The man was not in the best mood, but that was to be expected; he had woken up four hours earlier than he had intended. Lily had had a nightmare, she had informed Severus that morning when he arrived. Glancing at Mr Evans as he slid into the backseat of the car, Severus took note of the dark bruises under the man's green eyes. He did not like the look of them.
Severus hoped that Mr Evans would not succumb to drowsiness while driving them down to London. He clutched his satchel protectively as he rested it in his lap. Eileen had been very reluctant to allow him to travel with the Evans family, but Mr Evans had charmed her into allowing it. It was pretty amazing what a handsome smile and kindness could achieve, but it frustrated Severus because he would never be able to pull it off himself. Eileen had applied an Undetectable Extension Charm to Severus' satchel, allowing him to fit the numerous outfits Mr Evans had bullied him into accepting, as well as his wand, textbook and a book he had borrowed from Lily.
Lily sat in the middle of the backseat, weighed down by the heavy cast on her foot, snug between Petunia on her left and Severus on her right. The girl in question was nattering away excitedly and Petunia looked like she wanted nothing more than to punch her in the face, though she did nothing of the sort. The boot slammed shut and Mr Evans came around to the driver's side, climbing in next to his wife. He glanced in the rear-view mirror and Severus had a weird feeling he was being watched for that one fleeting moment.
Mr Evans turned the key in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. He put the car into the correct gear and, twisting in his seat, he looked over the children's heads, through the back window. He reversed the car, turning at an angle, and their journey began. The Jaguar glided down the road smoothly and Severus rested his head against the upholstered seat behind him, enjoying the vibrations that shuddered through his skull. They had been driving in silence for almost forty minutes when Mrs Evans spoke up.
Though sang up might have been a more appropriate term. "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. Ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around; ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!" Typically, Ten Green Bottles was the more popular option in the United Kingdom, but as there were two-hundred and eleven miles between Manchester and London it was clear that Mrs Evans had chosen the longer, American variant.
Wonderful, Severus thought darkly. Listening to people warble was exactly what I wanted for this trip. He squeezed his eyes shut and tuned the song out as Petunia took up the second verse. In his head, he went over the many Potions ingredients and uses for them. He had a vast number of them stored in his head, though there were still several he had yet to learn of – most of them were admittedly foreign plants and animals that he had yet to observe. Doing so only lasted him so long, however.
The journey to London seemed to be the longest few hours of his life, but Mr Evans' mood seemed to improve throughout. After Ninety-Nine Bottles the Evans family dived into a game of I spy. Even Severus got some enjoyment out of that game, deliberately choosing some of the most difficult things to think of. Lily grew frustrated and gave up in the middle of his turns, but Mr Evans was like an industrial digger, keeping at it until he got the right answer. Whenever he was victorious Mr Evans would beat his hands against the steering wheel in a pleasant rhythm and grace them with a burst of his rich laughter.
When they reached London Severus looked out the window, watching as they moved through the almost continuous streams of traffic, admiring the buildings they passed. Mr Evans parked the car in front of the fading facade of a Manor House, which overlooked Berkeley Square in Mayfair and was not too far away from the Maggs Brothers' Antiquarian Booksellers, one of the most infamous, allegedly, haunted houses in London. Severus knew that Winston Churchill had lived at Number Forty-Eight when he was a child.
Everyone climbed out of the car, Petunia and Lily looking delighted at having finally reached their destination. Severus felt uncomfortable, however; it seemed to be a very posh place. He was certain Mr Evans' sister would peg him for a virtual street urchin immediately. As if sensing his distress, Mr Evans rested his hand upon Severus' shoulder and squeezed gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over it in an attempt to ease the tension. Lily linked her arm with Severus' as Petunia skipped up the stone steps and knocked upon an impressive front door, bearing a brass knocker and stained glass windows.
A few moments passed before the front door opened inwards, revealing an attractive woman. The resemblance to Mr Evans was startling as Severus took note of the honey blonde hair and emerald eyes, though she was several years older than Mr Evans. Her smile was warm as she saw who had arrived, the corners of her eyes crinkling pleasantly. She was exceptionally slender; it was not a healthy weight to be but he made no comments about it because he could hardly talk, considering his own weight problems. The woman was clad in a knee-length black skirt, a green blouse to match her eyes and a black jacket. She looked like a weakening business woman.
"Amy," Mr Evans said cheerfully, rushing forward to embrace her lovingly. Amy winced in pain at the embrace, but the expression was missed by her brother, who had buried his face in her hair. Her hands rested lightly against Mr Evans' back; they were skeletal. Lily exchanged a worried glance with Severus and Petunia. Pulling back after a long moment Mr Evans eyed his sister. "You've lost a great deal of weight, love... Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Amy replied, but even Severus could tell she was lying since she looked anywhere but at her brother's face. "I just haven't had much of an appetite lately."
Mr Evans frowned, but he did not contest her words. Instead, he tugged Severus forward. "Severus," he said, "this is my sister, Amelia Hemmingway. Amy, this is Severus Snape, Lily's fri –"
"Friend, yes," Mrs Hemmingway finished merrily, offering her hand to Severus in greeting. Cheeks tinged with a faint blush, Severus accepted her hand and shook it lightly, afraid to hurt her. "It's wonderful to meet you at last; Lily's told me all about you in her letters!" Severus glanced sideways at Lily, who flushed pink, the colour clashing terribly with her crimson hair. Lily opened her mouth to refute it, but Mrs Hemmingway was already ploughing onwards. "I must introduce you to Roger – that's my husband – later! He's been looking forward to meeting you for awhile. A budding young botanist will always be welcome in our house."
"Interesting as this is," Petunia drawled, "shouldn't we take this inside? It's been a long drive."
"Right, right, of course. Come along, then." Mrs Hemmingway stepped to the side, allowing passage to the children. Mr and Mrs Evans emptied the boot and carried the duffel bags inside. "Aren't you short one?" Mrs Hemmingway observed in confusion, eyebrows knitting together in a frown as she surveyed the bags.
"Severus didn't bring anything but his satchel."
Mrs Hemmingway looked shrewdly at Severus, expecting an explanation. "Er...good folding skills?" Severus tried, smiling up at Mrs Hemmingway in an attempt at innocence. She pursed her lips in response, but did not dispute it. She merely gave the satchel a suspicious glance. Acting nonchalant, Severus cast his gaze around the hallway they had stepped into. It was narrow, but tall and upon the wall there were two paintings. The first was of a stag standing over a stream that ran through a clearing in a forest. It was all dark colours and dull reflections, but it was exceptionally beautiful regardless. The antlers were particularly impressive in Severus' opinion.
The second painting was of a tired man in worn clothes, walking along the beach on a sunny day, with his trusty dog at his heel. The dog was large and black and furry; it looked dangerous and docile simultaneously, which Severus knew was an inherent contradiction. At the end of the hallway the walls opened out into a wider space, housing the start of the staircase, which seemed impossibly extravagant. On small shelves, extending from the wall at regular intervals, were a few girandoles.
"Come, Severus; I'll show you to the guest room you'll be staying in." Mrs Hemmingway strode towards the stairs, her heels clacking against the highly polished wooden floors. The clench and release of her muscles were disturbingly prominent in her skinny legs. Severus wondered if they should drag her to the doctor. Squashing such thoughts, he hurried after Lily's aunt. While ascending the stairs, he noticed her clutch her hip suddenly with a grip so tight it left her knuckles white. She must be in pain, he thought, his eyebrows knitting together in an expression of worry.
The hallways upstairs were as narrow and tall as the entryway. The walls were covered in wallpaper that must have been very expensive. His head turning this way and that in fascination, Severus followed Mrs Hemmingway to a door of dark wood. "Here we are," she said quite unnecessarily. "The bathroom is at the end of the hallway, on the left-hand side. Feel free to relax here for awhile, if you wish." She made to leave, but paused, glancing back at him, green eyes sunken in her head. "Can you remember the way back?"
"Yes," answered Severus politely, "thank you for allowing me to accompany Lily on her visit."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Mrs Hemmingway's mouth. She looked tired, as if she could crawl into bed now and fall asleep immediately. "Not to worry, young man. A friend of Lily's is a friend of ours. We're happy to have you." With that she was heading for the stairs, her honey blonde hair bouncing in her wake.
"Mrs Hemmingway," he said quickly, calling out just loud enough for her to hear. Mrs Hemmingway paused at the top of the staircase, one hand resting lightly upon the lacquered banister. She tilted her head slightly, allowing her gaze to fall upon him without turning to look at him fully. He felt a boldness that would normally never surface, not when in the company of someone other than Lily or Mr Evans. "Whatever's the matter...they deserve to know." Severus opened the bedroom door and slipped inside before Mrs Hemmingway could react.
The bedroom was large, larger than any he had seen before. It was all dark woods and emerald green fabric. He was practically in his dream bedroom. Everything was soft, luxurious – and worth so much more than he could ever deserve. Taking a shaky breath, he began to explore the room, running his fingertips over every surface. There was absolutely no trace of dust anywhere. The bedclothes were incredibly soft to the touch. He felt as though he had been given the most amazing gift in the world.
There was even a fancy fireplace, in front of which a polar bear skin rug was spread out across the floor. A wing-backed chair was there for his comfort. One of the walls was hidden behind a library case filled with an abundance of books. Severus wanted to cry with the strength of his happiness, his shaking hand rising to cover his mouth. Mum would've loved a house like this, he thought, wishing he could buy her all the nice things that Mrs Hemmingway was able to. It's not fair.
But life was never fair; Severus knew that. Sighing, he set his satchel down on the wing-backed chair and crossed over to the bed, climbing onto it in order to test it. As he expected, he was practically lost in it, the bed was so big – and comfortable for that matter. Sprawling across it, Severus felt a grin pulling at his mouth. He did not even notice when he started to get drowsy, dozing off without a care in the world.
When he woke it was to the smell of lamb, wafting up the staircase and under the door of his guest bedroom. He took a moment to make himself presentable and to freshen up, before heading downstairs, following the delicious smell to the dining room. Everyone was in there, in the middle of dinner. For a moment he felt a stab of resentment at knowing they had not called him, until Mrs Hemmingway looked up from her dinner plate, looking exhausted...and there, hidden behind all of that was the faintest hint of fear.
She smiled apologetically at him, though it seemed to take an enormous effort. "I sent Petunia up for you, but she said you were asleep. I figured you must have needed the rest and told her not to disturb you. Sorry." His bad mood dissipated in an instant. "Roger, dear, will you fetch Severus a plate?"
"Of course, pet." A tall man with a wiry build rose elegantly from his chair. He carried himself like royalty as far as Severus was concerned. Like Mr Evans, the man had spectacles, but unlike Mr Evans, he seemed to have to wear them all the time. His eyes were blue and he had a balding head of brown hair. Mr Hemmingway smiled genially at Severus, gesturing for him to take a seat, before heading for the kitchen, cordoned off from the dining room by a marble-topped island.
Mr Hemmingway returned with a plate laden with a lamb chop, potatoes and a mountain of vegetables, all of it smothered in steaming gravy. Severus' stomach let out an embarrassingly loud grumble, causing the others to laugh at his expense. He ducked his head, cheeks flushing pink, and accepted the plate before taking his seat. The only vacant chair had been between Lily and Mrs Hemmingway, who sat at one end of the table while her husband sat at the other end. Offering his gratitude to both Hemmingway family members, which they waved off immediately, Severus began tucking in to his meal.
Throughout dinner he listened to them having quiet discussions, until Mrs Evans said something that set Mr Hemmingway off laughing. The man rested his elbow on the table and his forehead in his palm as he laughed so hard his face started going red. Severus was not certain what the joke had even been; it confused him and he decided it must have been some form of adult joke. Severus liked Mr Hemmingway's laugh; it seemed to oscillate between deep rumbles and high-pitched giggles.
After dinner, when Mr Hemmingway's laugh-steamed lenses had cleared, the man excused himself and retired upstairs to his study, where he was apparently working on a book. "I'll break out the Brandy, shall I?" Mrs Hemmingway pushed herself up from her chair, using the table for leverage. If anyone noticed the way her narrow wrists trembled at the action, they never said anything. But Severus eyed her shrewdly. She toddled off at a brisk pace, returning with a bottle of fine Brandy and three Brandy glasses that seemed to be made out of crystal rather than glass.
She sat down with a wince, though she covered it with a bright smile. Mr Evans eyed her down the length of the table, but she avoided looking directly at him, which only highlighted the fact that she had something to hide. Severus hoped, whatever it was, she would tell him before he had the chance to discover it for himself. He did not want to see what a hurt and enraged Mr Evans looked like. Mrs Hemmingway decanted a measure of Brandy for the three remaining adults. The woman was about to raise her glass to her lips when her eye twitched and she raised her fingers to her temple, rubbing lightly as if she had a headache.
After a moment she took a sip of her Brandy as if nothing had happened. There was definitely something wrong with her and, whatever it was, it had to be serious if she could hardly looked her brother in the eye. After his first glass of Brandy, Mr Evans excused himself. He was clearly planning something, though he claimed to need to visit the bathroom. The dining room fell into silence in his absence, Mrs Evans and Mrs Hemmingway nursing their glasses, while Lily rested her head lightly against Severus' shoulder.
They could hear Mr Evans moving around upstairs, heading in a direction that Severus thought might lead to the bathroom. It was difficult to orient himself in this strange and large house. He could navigate it, certainly, but he could not guess what rooms were where unless he was near them. Mrs Hemmingway sighed as she finished her first glass of Brandy and poured herself another, while Petunia began chatting animatedly to her about a boy she fancied, making the woman smile tiredly, if warmly at her.
Severus watched the woman carefully, wishing the woman would just admit that she was sick. Sometime during Petunia's rant about the boy, Mrs Hemmingway flicked her gaze in Severus' direction. Her green eyes carried a request, an urgent one; that Severus stop trying to force her hand. He was saved from giving her an answering look when the door to the dining room burst open, slamming hard off the wall and bouncing back. Mr Evans stood in the doorway, his shoulders trembling with some fierce emotion.
"What the hell is this?!" Mr Evans clutched an official-looking letter in his hand; one that looked like it had been read a million times, with tear stains making the paper see through in places. He waved it around almost violently. His eyes were blurred with unshed tears and his mouth was twisted in an angry and sorrowful grimace...
To Be Continued.
Ohh, exciting. What could possibly be written on that letter...