The Burning Pen

An Unlikely Savior
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 55 ~ Starting Out the Evening

Eileen heard a tentative knock on the door and opened it. Outside stood Hermione in her coat, Weasley hat and gloves. She looked at her unsmiling, dark-haired daughter and the small carry-all bag in her hand. Then her eyes narrowed.

”I thought you weren’t supposed to do this?” Hermione said to Eileen, who scowled slightly, not understanding.

”Not do what? I’m not doing anything,” she said to her mother.

Hermione folded her arms.

”Purposely waiting until New Years Eve to come and see me? That clearly seems like a break from lockdown to me. You knew your father wouldn’t say no,” Hermione said, her brown eyes glittering.

Eileen studied her mother. She’d busted her just like her father did, although he’d let her go.

”Well, stacking books on New Years Eve is beyond punishment,” Eileen said.

Hermione peered around Eileen and saw the still monstrous piles of books in the living room. But the shelves were starting to fill up.

”There’s no way you’re going to be able to finish that by the time school starts,” Hermione said to her.

”I know. That’s not the point of it though. It’s supposed to give me ‘character.’”

”You can never have enough of that,” Hermione replied, almost chuckling at how Snape used books as building blocks. “Now, let’s go.”

Eileen stepped out of the house, locked and warded the door, then took her mother’s arm.

They Disapparated.

They reappeared in front of Hermione’s house and she let them in. Eileen immediately noticed the silence and emptiness. Hermione’s home was the kind where you could feel it was occupied with family when they were there. But, they weren’t.

”Where’s Hugo, Rose and Ron?” Eileen asked. She’d been looking for to seeing Hugo. No doubt he’d be full of questions about the Dodo bird incident and what happened to her.

”Oh, they went to the Burrow to bring in the New Year. We do it every year,” Hermione said, hanging up her cloak and Weasley gear, then taking Eileen’s cloak and adding it to the coat rack.

”You could have gone,” Eileen said. “I didn’t want to interrupt your family tradition. It would have been fine.”

Hermione studied her.

”I couldn’t have enjoyed myself if I went to the Weasleys knowing you wanted to see me, even if it was only to get out from under your father’s thumb for an evening,” Hermione said, walking past her to the kitchen.

Eileen blinked after her, then placed her bag on the floor next to the coat rack and followed her. She entered the kitchen.

”I’m going to put on some tea, Eileen. Just have a seat,” Hermione said.

Eileen sat down and watched Hermione make tea, feeling a bit guilty.

”It wasn’t just because of the New Year, you know,” the witch ventured.

Hermione didn’t say anything as she busied herself.

”Things didn’t go right at the Burrow and I wanted to see if things were still right between us,” Eileen offered.

Hermione looked at her.

”No, things didn’t go right at the Burrow, and you didn’t do anything to make things any better by going back and hexing Molly, Eileen. I’m sorry that she hurt your feelings, but that was no way to settle the matter.”

Hermione had taken Snape’s words to heart, and decided to talk to Eileen like she would Rose. Like a mother, rather than a friend.

”I know,” Eileen said as Hermione strained the tea into cups and brought them to the table.

”Milk or sugar?” she asked her daughter.

”No, nothing, thank you,” Eileen replied.

She watched as Hermione sat down and added a bit of sugar to her tea.

Hermione leveled her eyes at Eileen.

”Eileen, I haven’t been exactly fair with you,” she began. “I’ve not handled this well at all. I’ve never been surprised with another child after all, and was just winging it. I was excited and wanted to get you to know me, to love me, to fit in with everyone instantly. That was stupid of me. Relationships develop over time. I think I tried to bring you in too fast. I barely gave you time to breathe, much less adapt to this family.”

Hermione let out a sigh, and continued.

I’m sorry about that. But there are some things you’re going to have to realize. First, not everyone likes your father. He’s done things that have made him disliked. And not everyone is going to bite their tongue because you’re around, and it’s naïve to think they will. You’re going to have to toughen up and learn not to run away from it.”

Eileen frowned.

”I wasn’t running away from it. I left to keep from hexing Mrs. Weasley,” Eileen said.

”Hexing isn’t the answer to everything either, Eileen. You have to face unpleasantness and deal with it. You can’t let it turn you to violence or make you run away. Those are not the only two options you have as an intelligent person. And I know you’re intelligent. If you had stayed at the Christmas supper and let us all talk it out, then there would have been a resolution. Because you left without feeling vindicated, you came back and hexed Molly, and got into trouble. That wasn’t smart, Eileen.”

Eileen dropped her head.

”I know it wasn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. That book you gave me had such cool transfigurations,” the girl said, emphasizing the “you” as if Hermione had something to do with it.

”The fact I gave you the book has no bearing on what you did with it, Eileen Hermione Snape,” Hermione snapped at her.

Eileen stopped drinking her tea, surprised. Where was that Gryffindor guilt?

Eileen didn’t realize that although Gryffindors often took guilt upon themselves like mantles, there were limits. Eileen had made the decision to hex Molly herself and would take the blame herself. Hermione wasn’t falling for it. Snape had been right.

”Listen, Eileen, and listen to me well. I’ve already been where you are right now, and despite being raised by Severus, you’re a teenager and teenagers all experience similar things when they grow up. You have no monopoly on being manipulative. Teenagers try to twist things around on their parents all the time. It won’t work with me, because Eileen, I’m no longer your ‘estranged’ mother—“

Hermione hesitated, then said firmly,

“I’m your mother, and I’m going to act like one from here on out.”

Eileen simply stared at her, her face unreadable.

Hermione’s voice softened, but there was still firmness underneath.

”I can’t make you have feelings for me like you do for your father, but I refuse to try and earn your love by letting you get away with murder just because I haven’t been here for the first half of your life. There’s nothing I can do about that and it would be a grave disservice to you. I’ll be here for you when you need me. I’ll be willing to listen to you if you need an ear, and I’ll do whatever is in my power to help you if you need help. But I won’t handle you as if you’re made of glass or a special case. All of my children are special. And all my children need correction from time to time. We don’t come into this world knowing all the answers, no matter how much we feel we do.

“Now, this wasn’t in the contract, Eileen, but we need to accept the fact that from this moment on, I am your mother in the same way I am Rose’s and Hugo’ mother. I am responsible for you just as much as your father. You won’t always like what I have to say or require you to do, but everything I say or require will be because I care about you very much. Do you understand that?”

Eileen nodded, her eyes starting to become a bit wet. No one other than her father had ever offered her another port in the storm. At first, Hermione was like a novelty, just something new in her life. She was a person, but still distant. This little lecture had brought her into the realm of reality. She really did have someone else who cared about her just as much as her father. It felt a little odd, but good.

”I understand, mum,” Eileen said softly.

”Good, now, finish your tea,” Hermione said, slumping inwardly with relief. She’d gotten through the lecture and Eileen didn’t reject what she had to say.

Mother and daughter sipped their tea, Eileen feeling oddly comforted by Hermione’s declaration of motherhood, and what that meant. Up to this point, Eileen didn’t know what it meant really. Sure, Hermione was her biological mother but who was she as a person and where did they fit into each others’ lives?

Apparently, everywhere. Eileen was just like every other youngster. She needed to know the boundaries and where she stood in order to feel secure. She hadn’t felt secure at the Burrow and it showed in her reactions. If Hermione had sat her down and talked to her about this beforehand, maybe she would have better been able to handle her reaction to Molly, feeling her mother was truly in her corner.

But life is strange, because more than likely, if Molly hadn’t done what she did, this lecture would have never happened. So, as callous as Molly Weasley was, in some twisted way, she had done something good for the two of them. Opened up the lines of communication.

As she sipped her tea, Eileen realized that although Molly had been terrible to say what she did about her father, her mum was right. To a lot of people, he wasn’t a stellar example of a good wizard and Eileen had to accept others didn’t see him as she did, and find a way to deal with it other than storming away or retaliating magically.

She had to be adult about it.

Hermione finished her tea and looked at Eileen speculatively.

“Your father instructed that you aren’t to engage in any pleasantries,” she told Eileen. “But, he didn’t say I couldn’t engage in any pleasantries—so I guess you’re just going to have to tag along. It would be irresponsible to leave you unsupervised, especially on New Years Eve, don’t you think?”

Hermione wore a tiny smile as she said this.

Eileen smiled back at her.

”Yes. It would be terribly irresponsible,” she agreed.

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”Where’s Hermione?” Molly asked Ron as Hugo and Rose rushed off to join their cousins and George, who was setting up for the fireworks display.

”She won’t be coming tonight, mum,” Ron said softly.

Molly blinked at him.

”Won’t be coming? Is she still mad at me, Ronald?” the matriarch asked.

Ron shrugged.

”I don’t know if she is, mum, but I know that’s not the reason she didn’t come. Eileen chose today to talk with her about what happened and try to start over,” he told her.

Molly’s eyes filled with tears.

”I see,” she said softly. “I only hope they can work it out, Ronald. I’d feel terrible if what I said came between them.”

”Maybe it will work out, mum,” Ron said, patting her shoulder gently. He didn’t like what she’d done, but it was clear she was feeling remorse. Besides, she was still his mum and he loved her.

”I’m going to see what George is up to,” he said, kissing her cheek then walking away to join the group, Hugo bouncing excitedly all around him.

Molly sighed.

Hermione not being here felt as if there was an empty hole in the gathering. Everyone else would hardly miss her, they’d be having so much fun, but Molly knew that the reason she wasn’t here was because Eileen wouldn’t feel welcome.

And she would be right. There was at least one member of the family that didn’t want to see Eileen at all.

Albus.

He’d been furious when he heard what she did to grandmum. He had a terrible row with Alsop and Lily about it, both of whom were willing to let the grown-ups handle it. James stayed out of it completely, refusing to side with anyone.

”That’s my grandmum. I’m not going to let anyone get away with doing that to her. It’s just plain wrong. Eileen has to pay for that,” Albus snarled.

He didn’t care how severe her punishment was. She had hexed Molly and he wasn’t about to let her get away with that.

Wait until they returned to school. He’d see how she’d stand up to someone who actually saw her coming.

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Odessa put a final touch of lipstick to her mouth. Not the bright red, garish lipstick of a prostitute on the prowl, the type of lipstick a wizard liked to see smeared on his tool, but something a little cooler, more appropriate.

Before the spotted mirror, Odessa whirled in the swishy, black ball gown with gold beading that she’d purchased. She chose it because it was in her house colors, strapped and demure but pretty. It was made of silk and showed quite a bit of back as well as a little cleavage. But tastefully so, her breasts not bunched like boxed grapefruit.

It was the kind of dress that wouldn’t attract a lot of attention but would fit in perfectly at a ball. She was doing understatement tonight, still afraid she would embarrass Severus in some manner. She hoped the wizard wasn’t making a mistake.

But a date. Odessa had never been on a real date in her life. Her father didn’t allow her to have boyfriends when she was growing up. He wouldn’t. He wanted her all to himself. Odessa’s eyes teared up a little. She was wearing her contacts tonight, thinking glasses wouldn’t look as good with the ensemble.

Snape Apparated to Knockturn Alley at five minutes to eight, taking a peek inside his shop and checking the wards. The alley could get quite wild on New Year’s Eve. He didn’t want to find his place of business in a shambles when he returned.

Satisfied his livelihood was well protected, he walked down the alley to pick up his date. He was attired in a heavy dress cloak and wore dress robes beneath. He had washed and conditioned his hair to look less lank and made the basic oblations to make himself presentable if not handsome. But Snape was always presentable in presence and bearing, if not looks. Tonight was no different.

A heavy knock sounded on the door. Odessa let out a little squeal and threw on her new traveling cloak. It warmed the wearer magically. She grabbed her wand, and threw open the door.

”I’m read—“ she began, stopping mid-exclamation as she looked up at the tall wizard looking down at her. The bottom of his face was covered with a scarf, and his hard eyes looked down at her. This wasn’t Severus.

”Good thing, you’re ready. You’re needed at another party. You and that blonde made a good impression last time. Wizards are waiting on you,” he said in a raspy voice.

Odessa scowled and tapped the little sign hanging on her door pointedly with her wand.

”Can’t you see I’m out of business forever? I don’t whore any longer,” she told the wizard, who laughed nastily.

”Once a whore, always a whore,” he said. “Now, you can make five hundred Galleons for just one night as our plaything. That’s a lot of money.”

”And a lot of work. I could barely walk after the last party, and the bruises lasted more than a week, even with treatment. Besides, I have a regular job now.”

”I bet it takes a while to make five hundred Galleons,” he said.

Snape, who was quietly walking up the alley, stopped when he saw the tall wizard at Odessa’s door. Who was he?

Snape felt a knot in his belly. Was Odessa still seeing customers? She didn’t need to do that. She had a job now.

”Look, I don’t do that anymore. Please leave,” Odessa said to him.

Snape felt the tightness loosen. This was someone who wanted her services. She was turning him down.

”A lot of important men are going to be disappointed if you don’t show up,” he hissed. “Eight hundred Galleons.”

”No, now leave.”

Suddenly the man rushed inside, pushing Odessa back roughly so she stumbled.

”Ooh, you brute!” she screamed at him, pointing her wand..

Snape heard Odessa scream and ran down the alley. He pulled up short just as the wizard was blasted out of the door into the stone wall across from the flat. He crumpled from the impact.

”Try to strong arm me, you masher,” Odessa breathed, walking out and examining the unconscious wizard, before casting a binding spell on him. “Out of business means out of business.”

Snape watched with amusement as Odessa rifled through the wizard’s coat and pulled out his identification. She read it and put it back in his pocket. Then she walked back into her apartment, leaving the door open.

Curious, Snape watched as she came back with a little plastic flower, which she tucked into the wizard’s buttonhole. She stepped back, and pointed her wand at the flower.

”Portis,” she breathed.

The flower turned blue and the wizard disappeared.

”There,” she said, then heard applause and looked up to see Snape standing there, clapping his hands together slowly. He walked up as she blushed guiltily.

”I’m impressed,” he said shortly. “Where did you send him?”

”Home, I think. I made a Port Key and sent him to the address listed on his identification,” the witch said, walking over to her flat and closing and warding the door.

”Most witches would have dropped him into the Thames River at least,” Snape replied.

”That’s what will happen if he tries that again,” Odessa said. Then, “You look very nice, Severus.”

Snape gave her a little bow.

”I can’t see what you’re wearing, Odessa, but I’m sure it is lovely,” he responded, taking her arm.

”It’s nice, but not too fancy,” she replied. “I didn’t want to attract too much attention.”

Snape knew Odessa would attract attention because she was really a lovely witch. For a prostitute, she was up in years, but as a normal witch, she was someone to look at more than once. And Merlin, that walk alone was enough to turn heads.

”Well, you have all of mine. Shall we go?”

”Yes. Oh, yes, Severus,” she breathed.

They walked into Knockturn Alley proper, Odessa looking down at the ground self-consciously as they passed her former co-workers, who stared at the couple.

”Hey Odessa, got a new pimp?” a male voice rang out from the shadows, followed by a few nasty chuckles from the regulars.

Without turning his head, Snape whipped out his wand and quickly fired a hlast in the direction of the voice. There was a choked “arrrrgh!” then silence. No chuckles followed that display.

”The answer is, no, she hasn’t,” Snape replied to no one in particular loud enough for everyone to hear.

Odessa looked at him, her eyes shining. He had stood up for her honor. It was a lost cause, but still—

“Severus, you didn’t have to do that,” she said to him softly.

”I did have to do it. No one insults my date,” the apothecary purred.

They Disapparated.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

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