Chapter 6

Chapter 6

One day in June, Hermione received an owl from Ginny. She was nervous and excited all at once. She opened it and scanned it quickly.

Her mouth dropped open. Not only was Ginny upset she was gone, she was angry as well.

"I don't know how you can live with yourself, humiliating Ron that way. He was devastated for months. He only now is starting to come around, but he is still not the same. Neither is Harry. I can't do the work of two witches! Harry was so depressed when you left; it was like losing you in battle. He wouldn't speak of you in the present tense. He cries all the time, going from you, to Snape, then to Dumbledore, Fred, and each one that died that day. It is just wearing me down to a frazzle.

Ginny

Hermione sighed. Oh dear, she thought. She sat on her couch and thought about what Ginny had to say. True, she could understand the insane nature of Ginny's life. She had two broken down young men who had already lived enough for a lifetime. They were already old inside. However, they needed to pull themselves together. Ginny needed to understand she couldn't do everything for them.

She was focusing so hard she never heard the doorbell. Then she heard loud thumping on her front door. She jumped up and raced to look through the peephole. It was a very beautiful woman, blonde curly hair, perfect make-up and clothes. Hermione only had one guess as to whom she could be.

She opened the door after smoothing down her tank top and shorts.

"Hello," she said, smiling. "May help you?"

"Yes," the woman said haughtily. She reminded Hermione of Narcissa Malfoy. "I am Eugene's Aunt, Margaret Wainright. I wish to speak with Miss Hermione Granger, please."

Hermione smiled at the woman's obvious attempt at rudeness. "I am Miss Granger. Won't you come in?" she asked.

"Oh!" she said in mock surprise. "I thought you were the help. I suppose Eugene was just doing what he does best, making up large lying stories. To hear him speak, you were a gorgeous young woman with long brown curly hair that smelled like lemon verbena and dressed like an aristocrat. Now, that couldn't possibly be true, could it?"

"I wear what I like," replied Hermione evenly. "Today is unbearably warm, so I am dressed for comfort, not for company. Would you care to sit down, Mrs. Wainright?"

"No," she said sharply. "I came to tell you that Eugene shan't be coming round anymore. It was enough when he was working for that wretched man! He was the rudest and most ill tempered man I have ever met. Eugene's uncle shall deal with him, but I felt assured I could at least deal with you.

"Eugene has never respected our house or our rules. He is a careless and thoughtless child we were forced to take in because my sister-in-law and her lover were so damn careless, they ended up killing themselves in some freak accident."

Sounds like what Harry's aunt and uncle told him, Hermione thought.

Mrs. Wainwright tossed some of her golden hair off her shoulders. "I don't appreciate you trying to interfere with our nephew," she said in a clipped voice. Then her voice changed into a more sneer. "Eugene tells us that you and this 'Mr. Black' will be his new parents. He says you love him and would be happy to have him as your son. Now that's all he talks about."

Hermione thought of what Eugene's aunt had said earlier. "You said you met this 'Mr. Black'?" she asked.

"Yes, I just said that!" she snapped.

"What does he look like?" Hermione asked, trying hard to focus on point and not thinking about getting her wand and hexing the wretched woman.

Mrs. Wainright sighed. "He is ugly as sin. His hair is black and greasy, his face so pale that it has a sickly hue to it. He has the dullest, emptiest eyes. He's like a zombie or the living dead. At first, when I spoke to him, he wouldn't open the door fully so I only saw a half of his person. He's thin and wears all black, including a very smelly, nasty scarf around his neck. When I tried to reason with him about Eugene, he nearly went rabid! He flung the door wide open...I thought he was going to bite or strike me. His teeth are yellow, and he has the most abominable personality I've ever met. He threatened my husband and I with the authorities. So, when's the big day?" she said sarcastically with a smirk.

Hermione felt that remark crack across her face her tone was so nasty. "Mrs. Wainright, I do not know this 'Mr. Black' or whatever his real name is. However, I do agree with his assessment. You and your husband are cruel and horrid people to treat your nephew with such disregard! I have half a mind myself to report you to the authorities and have you arrested for child abuse!" Hermione yelled.

Eugene's aunt turned about four shades of red before she stalked out of the house with her head held high.

"Miserable, stupid, wretched woman!" Hermione yelled out after she slammed her front door. Well, one thing was for certain: she and "Mr. Black" cared a great deal for Eugene.

***

A week went by with no word from Eugene. Hermione was worried. What if those people hurt him? Where could he be? Family vacation? She spent a lot of time pacing and walking around the fells on and around her property. She saw many of the younger children that went to Grasmere Primary, but Eugene wasn't among them.

She decided it was finally time. After all, she'd be twenty in September. She was a grown woman, not a child anymore. She could face Professor Snape again, if he was who she thought he was. She was growing nervous. Her palms were sweating as she approached a group of boys that had among them the two boys she had first seen Eugene with.

"Um, hi," she said in a small voice. The children stopped their playing and stared at her. She drew a breath and used her most important voice she always used whenever she was giving an answer in class.

"I was wondering about the strange man who lives on the south edge of the village. I've heard odd things about him and wanted to know where he lives."

"You want to GO there?" asked one boy with his mouth gaping open.

"Why do you want to see him?" asked another. "He's just a mean radgee."

Hermione squared her shoulders. "I grew up in boarding schools from the age of eleven," she said bossily. "I have handled my share of nasty, mean, old men. I had a teacher who was the worst...ever! I think I can handle a mean old radgee."

They looked at her in respect and awe. "He lives down Red Bank Road," piped up one of the smaller boys.

"Yeah," said the tall, curly-haired boy. "We'll take you!"

She marched off with the little gang of boys. She felt like Wendy with the little lost boys. But that would have to make Professor Snape more like Captain Hook rather than Peter Pan. But if he had truly gone round the twist, she might encounter a man who may have wished he had never grown up.

They were a motley group that was for sure. She took them into Sarah's for some gingerbread, and the women working in there laughed at the group of rowdies as Hermione worked her way to corral them.

"Ah, ah!" she said with a shrill to her voice. "There shall be none for naughty boys," she announced. "No pushing, shoving, biting...Joshua, stop that...or stealing. Each shall have their portion."

"Now, say thank you to the nice ladies," she directed them.

"Thank you," they all said in unison.

The ladies laughed as they marched out single file.

"So, what d'you want with that old radgee?" asked Anthony.

"Well, Anthony, I don't think it's proper to call one of your elders an 'old man,'" she said reprovingly, "much less a radgee."

She walked on with them as they munched on their gingerbread, talking about people and manners. Soon, she found two of her hands were being held by the youngest of the group, Joshua and Jason, the redheaded twins. A lump caught in her throat as she looked down at them. She could vividly see young Fred and George in them. They were sweet and full of bounding energy, quick-witted, and a bit mischievous. But of course, they were only six. They had a long way to go before they could take on the mad skills of the Terrible Twosome.

"You never know a person, really, unless you know the kind of life they have lived. I once knew a man who was lonely as a boy. He was really smart, but he didn't fit in. The clothes his parents gave him never fit him, and the other children laughed at him. He was thin and hungry because his parents never fed him enough, and he was always dirty because his parents wouldn't give him baths. His parents fought a lot, and he was alone most of the time to get away from his violent home.

"One day, he saw a lovely, little redheaded girl. He thought she was very nice and wanted to be her friend. He finally got the courage to talk with her, and they became best friends. She was his best friend even into their teen years. He loved her and wanted very much to marry her when they grew up."

"Girls? Yuk!" said one of the younger boys.

"He sounds like a sissy to me! Why would he want to be friends with a girl?" asked another.

"Hey!" said Steven, the oldest and the ringleader of the lot, "Shut yer moy! One day, you'll think twice about girls, and if you laugh at me, I will personally follow you on your first dates and tell them all about the stupid stuff you said about girls when you were just a little wanker!"

They all quieted down and waited for Hermione to continue. "Well, during his growing up years, there was this group of boys who went around teasing and beating up this boy, and each time, his friend would be there to comfort him. One day, when he was sixteen, the mean boys set upon the boy. One of them had liked the redheaded girl for a long time and wanted her for himself and away from the boy. He had been jealous of their relationship and had been hitting and beating on him every day, thinking that would make the redheaded girl love him. During the fight, the mean boys really embarrassed him, and he was so angry and upset that when his girlfriend came to stand up and fight for him, he snapped at her and called her a very rude and cruel name. She was so hurt and sad; she refused to forgive the boy. She married that mean boy who had wanted her, and the boy, when he became a grown man, was so devastated he lost her, became very angry and mean. He never let anyone close to him again. He became a bitter man and died that way. But he never stopped loving the redheaded girl who had become a beautiful redheaded woman."

"Why didn't she forgive him?" asked David.

"Maybe he never said he was sorry, you pillock!" snapped Steven.

Hermione looked at the older boy. He looked upset and distressed by the story. She wondered if there was a Lily in his life.

"Oh, he apologized. He was even going to sleep on her front porch if she wouldn't talk to him and forgive him. But she rejected his apology because by this time, the boy had been hanging out with a group of really bad boys who were just as mean as the other group of mean boys who were beating up the boy. These boys, though, didn't like the redheaded girl, and over a period of years, she begged him to stop hanging out with those mean boys who hated her. She was afraid of them. When he apologized, she gave him one final chance, and he refused to choose between them. He wanted to be friends with those bad boys and have her. But he couldn't have both, and she finally had enough. They never spoke again."

"Well, that was dumb!" said Tommy. "Why should he have to choose between his mates and some dumb girl?"

"Because the boys were mean, and maybe they wanted to hurt the girl!" said Anthony.

"Yeah!" said Steven. "If he loved her and wanted to marry her, he should have left those berks behind!"

Hermione smiled gently. "It's really easy to see things the right way when you can look back. This poor man spent the rest of his life mourning the loss of his one true love. He loved her until the day he died," she said.

"What happened to the girl after she married that mean boy? Was he mean to her?" asked little Joshua.

"No," said Hermione. "He grew up and realized it wasn't polite being mean. He changed and became a nice man. He loved the redheaded girl very much, and they had a baby boy. Then one day, a very bad man killed the redheaded girl and her husband, and their little boy became an orphan, raised by his mum's family."

"What did the man do when he found out she died?" asked Joseph, Joshua's twin.

"He was broken-hearted," whispered Hermione sadly. "He had known the man who had killed her, and he felt he should have protected her better. He knew the wicked man was out to find her and her family and kill them...even the little baby because he was so wicked. He tried to save her, tried to keep not only her but also her husband and baby boy safe; he loved her so much, but the wicked man eventually found them, and when she died, he was never the same again."

"The wicked man didn't kill her son, though. What happened to her son?" asked Steven.

"He's my best friend," said Hermione with a bright smile, though she felt a pang in her heart. "He and I have been best friends since we were eleven. He married the sister of another good friend of ours. He used to be happy. It's just now he's sad all the time...sad about the man's death, the one who loved his mum. You see, all my friend's life, he thought the bitter man was a terrible and selfish person. My friend didn't know until the man had died that he had loved his mum his whole life and risked his life to save hers and his. He reckons now he was the bravest man he had ever known."

"The girl's son knew her old friend?" asked Steven.

"Yes. He was a teacher of ours. It was hard for the man to see his only love's son there with her eyes and that mean boy's face who used to torment him staring back at him in class while he taught. So, it was all very sad. No one understood this miserable, bitter man or why he was so angry and mean all the time. But actually it's rather simple. People who are hurting tend to hurt other people and hate to see other people happy when they feel so wretched. They are to be, maybe not pitied, but rather given more compassion. Do you all know what compassion means?"

"I do," said Steven importantly.

"Tell the others, then," she said.

"It means to show tolerance and mercy. To try and understand why they act the way they do."

"Did that make sense to you all?" Hermione asked.

"So, it means to see life how the other bloke sees it, right?" asked Tommy.

"That's right," said Hermione. "That's why you shouldn't tease and call the old gentleman names. There may be a story there that is painful and sad. There is always a reason," she said simply.

"That's his house," said Steven pointing into the distance. "No one walks by it unless they have to. It's really creepy."

"Well, I have to go. I need to speak to him," said Hermione bravely as she continued to walk down the road.

The boys tagged along as she walked up the rickety stairs. It was a dilapidated old house, for sure. She knocked on the door, and the boys behind her hid off to the side of the house in the overgrown bushes, whispering amongst themselves.

"She's really gonna do it! He's going to kill her!"

She rapped on the door again, more forcefully this time. The door opened slowly and there stood Mr. Black or, as Hermione knew him, Professor Severus Snape.