Chapter 2

Author's note: This story may not please everyone as it is not the usual fluffy Christmas story. The scenes depicted in this story may be offensive and objectionable to some readers for its explicit violence and gore. This story deviates from my usual writing. Emphases are in italics and titles of books &ca are underlined. Some readers may find my characterisation OOC, but I assure you, this is how I see them in the dark distant future. I assume that Dumbledore's death in Book 6 was staged and that's why he's still alive in this story.

Christmas Presents Undisguised

Chapter 2

The day had been draining enough on Severus Snape and on his arrival home, he promptly retreated into his study. It was a modest room and the second darkest in his house, just off the sitting room. It was the most inhabited part of his house and the part where he felt he could best be himself. Stirring up a good fire in his grate, Severus glided to his desk and stared at his shelves of books, before finding the one he had been thinking of and added it to the pile on his desk. His desk creaked slightly at the weight of the books, papers, diaries, measuring instruments, vials, beakers, maps and all. He picked up the book on ancient wizarding blood rituals and tried to fit the information Dumbledore had revealed to him with the words of his book. With his mind thus occupied, he did not notice a knock on his door. As the banging became more protracted, he swept out to chase the idiot away from his residence. Before he could offer any cutting remark to the person at the door, Dr Hermione Granger, brushed past him, squeezed her way into his sitting room, and asked him for directions to his book room.

'Why?' he asked suspiciously, locking the front door while staring at the petite woman with her neat grey travelling cloak and loose hair bun.

'There is much we have to discuss,' she said brusquely.

Severus narrowed his eyes and snarled malevolently at his unwanted guest, 'I do not see why I should allow you into my private study. If you want to say anything, make it quick and be gone.'

'Look, Professor Snape,' she snapped before approaching him with a dangerous look in her eyes. 'I am as keen on this collaboration nonsense as you are. The sooner we get done with it, the better it will be for the both of us. I was under the impression that we each stood to gain certain freedoms if we finish this investigation, and I intend that we should do so in as methodological a manner as possible.'

'Do not presume to lecture me, insufferable woman!' he hissed, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her soundly.

'Only if you do not presume to lecture me, sir,' she answered, struggling out of his grip. As soon as she had done so, she knew that he had allowed her to wiggle free. It was a sign, she felt, for her to show herself out. She rolled her eyes at his diversionary tactics – it would take more than that to discourage her. 'I did not ask to work with you or anyone else, Professor Snape,' she continued frostily, matching the temperature of the sitting room. 'If you will be so kind as to direct us to the book room, I will show you a legal document explaining why we cannot possibly work alone however much we may wish it.'

Curling his lips from self-loathing and hatred for Dumbledore and the woman in his house (a woman who did not paint her face – thank Merlin), he dramatically drew his robes closer to himself and silently retreated to his study. Hermione took it as a sign that she should follow suit and did so. On entering, the well-kept book room, she sat down at a nearby tea table with an arch look on her face. There were tea-things placed there, evidently untouched and warm. As soon as her host had filled his own cup of tea and floated it to his desk next to his pile of precariously stacked books, he waved a hand dismissively in her direction. She took the gesture and the scowl on his face as an unwilling gesture to show her some hospitality as a colleague.

No sooner had she partaken of her first sip of scalding Earl Grey tea when the truculent host quietly narrated the events of the morning to her. She smiled silently when she was regaled with his comments on Dumbledore's character as he narrated his perceived concerns in this investigatory mission. On his part, though Severus appeared outwardly displeased, he was privately disposed to be a grudging admirer of Dr Granger's work in Arithmancy. In his relation of the events, he observed with a certain vicious satisfaction that the woman was gingerly sipping her tea in a most awkward manner, a circumstance to which he attributed to her having burned her tongue. Hopefully, he mused, it would keep her quiet for a while and allowed him to mull over all the facts of the case as it presently stood. When he came to the probable ritualistic nature of the deaths, he noticed that she had removed her charcoal grey travelling cloak and was occupied with warming herself by the fire, clutching her teacup between her pale, slightly trembling hands.

'Dumbledore is asking a lot of us,' she commented thoughtfully, staring into the fire unblinkingly.

'No doubt he means us to be flattered,' sneered Severus bitterly, earning him an ironic smirk from his guest. 'What document did that stupid old goat issue preventing us from pursuing our own ends in this mission?'

'A trumped-up version of the usual British Wizarding Criminal Prosecution Ministry special powers multi-purpose warrant and pass,' she answered, setting down her teacup and withdrawing a scroll of parchment tied with a blue ribbon, which she floated to his desk.

'With Dumbledore's seal, I expect,' he spat derisively, folding his arms defensively, refusing to see what was written on the parchment. 'No wonder he said all was settled when I asked him for a BWCP warrant to question, be-spell, search, detain, maim and kill any person I saw fit vis-à-vis this matter. Barmy old rogue!'

Hermione inclined her head to one side and leaned closer to the fire. Her eyes though, somewhat amused by her colleague's outburst, belied the hard and grave note in her voice. 'I asked him for the same when he called on me in my office today telling me almost everything he had told you. Do you know what he did? He said he had the foresight to prepare one already and proceeded to fish it out of his robes.'

'Incorrigible!' agreed Severus in a livid hiss, who was so united in abusing Dumbledore's character with Hermione that he quite forgot that she was an insufferable know-it-all. 'If only his foresight was limited to solving this conundrum, we would not be in this situation.'

'You should peruse the pre-prepared document. It already bears our names,' she stated through clenched teeth as she rubbed her hands together. 'There's no escaping it, Professor Snape, we're magically bound to bring this barbarian to justice.'

'Damn his infernal cheek!' cursed Severus, throwing his teacup into the wall behind Hermione. 'His presumptuous ways will be the death of him, I pray! How long has he been planning this! More importantly, to what end?'

Twitching her lips to signify her annoyance at his sudden violent outburst, which she realised on hindsight was not unexpected, she rose and cast a spell to restore the teacup to its original state. 'How fortunate that end does not spell death by splintering teacup pieces!' she commented in a deliberately abrasive tone.

'The fact that you are capable of talking to me without a scratch on your person demonstrates that you are not hurt, Dr Granger; as such, there is no need to douse me with verbal vitriol,' he spat, perusing the warrant and silently cursing Dumbledore with the pox.

'Oh no, I have become so inured to your vitriolic remarks that they must have bounced off me and returned to you,' she answered coldly with a catlike smirk.

Pointedly ignoring her though he was inwardly seething with irritation, he reread the parchment and asked, 'What kind of a miscreant is this if such a desperate warrant and two Unspeakable Unspeakables are needed?'

'This fellow is not the usual lout or treasonous traitor. He or she strikes with no apparent pattern and is so brutal in his or her ways that society will soon pay attention to these killings if we do not do something,' replied Hermione as she examined a map of seventeenth century wizarding London above the fireplace.

Severus rested his chin on his knuckles thoughtfully and frowned. 'What could possibly be the connection between them? Why were the killings so heinously executed? It is not random, whatever Dumbledore says.'

'Now that we know what have to do, we can start tomorrow. What time shall I call here for you?' Hermione asked, putting on her cloak and making her way to the door of the study.

'Where do you think you're going?' he barked when she saw that she was making a move to leave.

'The Green Dragon. I bespoke a room there before I came here.'

'I will not have my schedule upset by waiting for you to come from that rodent infested inn without central heating!' he declared with great annoyance.

'What do you suggest then?' she asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

'My hours are irregular. You had better remove yourself here to the guest bedroom. Upstairs, second door on the right. When I wish to stir outdoors on this venture, I will drag you out, whether you like it or not, understand? Do not think this is a gesture of goodwill! It is my method of coming terms with this unpleasant mission as soon as possible!' As Hermione was staring blankly at his injunction, he continued, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go get your things from that pathetic excuse of an inn."

* * *

The sections of wizarding London across the Thames were indeed as bleak and foul as Severus had imagined. The alleyways were narrow and noisome. The buildings were mostly dilapidated, filthy and decayed, lazily leaning on each other, threatening to fall onto the equally foul streets or on the innocent passers-by or onto the equally foul streets. Even the roads, which were considered to be the main thoroughfares of Morosia, were dark and squalid, overrun by rodents (of both the Homo sapiens and rattus varieties) and smelled of sewage and human waste. Along these routes, which passed off as paths, rats and humans alike scuttled back and forth looking suspiciously over their shoulders. The Discedes, Alkane and Morosia areas of wizarding London stood in stark contrast to the sophistication of its sister Diagon Alley across the river. Where the other sections of the stretch in Diagon Alley (and even Knockturn Alley) were full of pre-Christmas cheer and teeming with street vendors and shopkeepers beckoning casual shoppers to patronise their mistletoe and holly bedecked stores where all kinds of seasonal treats were sold, from toys to foodstuffs and books, the other side of the river was a vortex of poverty, despair and helplessness. Little if anything resembling festive merchandise was sold. The only sounds vaguely resembling mirth in these slum areas of wizarding London were the cackling ill-formed throaty yowls of the many drunks. The griminess of that part of the city was emphasised by the constant burning of inferior quality coal and sodden wood fires, which frequent occurrence near every corner emitted thick black smoke spiralling up coating the buildings in more filth. The people, squibs, unfortunates, the blind, lame, mute, plain downtrodden and the criminal elements of the city gathered around these fires in unsuccessful attempts to keep warm, forming dark dirty shadows in the landscape of the city.

These were the sights and smells that assailed Professor Severus Snape and Dr Hermione Granger as they were conducted through that section of wizarding London by the Deputy Commissioner of the Aurory, Ronald Weasley. As they made their way through these disturbing elements, it occurred to both academics and Unspeakable Unspeakables that all manner of disreputable beings could freely move in the tripartite cesspit of Discedes, Alkane and Morosia. Severus and Hermione exchanged knowing glances when they saw that the individuals in that part of wizarding London were more animal than human in their behaviour and looked askance at strangers, cursing them through their silent reddish and rheumy eyes. Crime ran amok in such an environment – that was plainly evident. While making their way to the scene of the very first of these murders, they saw that husbands and wives were prone to killing each other; children openly did each other in; parents and children embedded in an endless cycle of poverty, hate and senseless violence; members of both sexes sold themselves freely on the streets for they had no choice in the matter – should they resist, their favours would have been forcefully snatched and no slimy coin payment would follow. Money gained in such circumstances was invariably spent on alcohol and apothecary so that they could drink themselves into oblivion, forgetting that their lives were completely miserable, or they could drug themselves into stupor hoping that they would never awaken.

As Hermione cringed at the sight of these elements so close to her, she found herself quite relieved when Ron stopped them in their tracks in the back alley of a poorly kept tavern. "This is where we found the first body, Professors," said Ron, slipping Hermione a toffee so that she wouldn't throw up from the stench.

Severus pushed him out of the way, examined the alley wall, and noticed that the bloodstains had not been scrubbed from it. Most likely no one cared enough to bother cleaning the area, he mused with an ironic smirk playing at the corner of his lips. When he knelt down so as to better inspect the ground, Hermione proceeded to question her friend, 'So Ron, tell me everything about the body here.'

'Thought you would never ask,' said the redheaded Deputy Commissioner with a grin as he removed his notebook from his breast pocket. 'Marietta Edgecome, our first body, was found here murdered on the night of May 15th. She worked in the international financial bureau of Gringotts. We have no idea why she landed on this side of wizarding London.'

'How very informative, Weasley,' sneered Severus, getting up so as to glare at the young man from a better vantage point. 'You are a credit to the office you hold!'

Hermione spot a quelling look at Severus for she caught the sardonic hint in his voice. It was a hint that was missed by the young Deputy Commissioner. Ron took it as a rare compliment of his abilities and coloured violently, so much so that his skin colour matched his hair. Shifting his weight from one foot to another in apparent shyness, he murmured his thanks and revealed that he and his men kept careful accounts of each case.

'Very well then,' said Hermione quickly, as soon as she saw Severus's eyes glitter dangerously from the information. 'Give me the notebook, Ron. We will take charge of the investigation from here on.'

'Oh,' murmured Ron in shock as he handed his book to his friend.

'Ron, you can go. We'll be fine,' Hermione instructed in a peremptory manner as she perused the leaves of the notebook. Severus could not resist a smirk at young Weasley's expense – for all his vows of friendship and claims of understanding his intelligent friend, it was abundantly clear that he did not. Her mind was forever shut off to him because they were unable to meet at any level. He saw that Ron had put on an expression of puppy dog eyes meant to signal his hurt feelings and gave a brief burst of laughter.

'Er, I don't think it's safe, Hermione,' Ron mumbled.

'Nonsense,' answered Dr Granger, meditating over something she had read in the notebook. "We'll be fine."

'I know you're a university prof and with that secret office and all, but there's no need to be so uppity about it!' he blustered, much to Severus's amusement.

'Your friend is working here, Weasley,' sneered Severus with satisfaction at the young man's fallen face. 'While her mind is at work, she will think of nothing else, not you or that blasted rat as large as a cat.'

'That doesn't give her a right to be so... so... you know, toward me! I'm one of her oldest friends, along with Harry!' insisted Ron stoutly, colouring again, but this time with a much different emotion.

'Ah, and where is your dear Harry now? Would one of Dr Granger's oldest friends ask for her to be sent to the worst of the country's slums to investigate a slew of murders? He has promoted you, I see, to your brilliant rank. I suppose you think you can lord it over is from your towering height,' spat the Alchemist in a chillingly biting voice. 'Your friend Dr Granger is far superior to that idiot you hero worship. She has an emotional equilibrium that you lack. Observe her now, thinking and pacing, can you see her for what she is?'

'Of course, I see 'Mione; a very cold 'Mione, probably a trait she learnt from hanging around greasy gits like you!'

Severus rolled his eyes and curled his lips in scorn at the young man. It was pointless to explain to a mere dunderhead the shrewdness of mind necessary to separate one's private sentiments from one's public persona; a cool impassive shell was necessary to the successful conduct of all these sort of secret Unspeakable missions. Severus folded his arms against his chest and mulled over Hermione's expression of deep thought – indeed, he knew very well how and why one must never allow grief, fear, anger or any other sentiment to be displayed when one is on a spying and investigation mission. Intellectual enthusiasm when the game was afoot was entirely permissible and the only sentiment allowed in a dangerous game played by the forces in Dumbledore's Unspeakable Unspeakables. Hermione soon finished her perusal of the notebook and handed it to her colleague with the words, 'Curiousier and curiousier,' earning a raised brow of inquiry at her comment.

Unable and unwilling to leave his friend be, Ron stood helplessly aside, flashing his Auror's uniform to all who dared approach their party. Hermione, he noticed, continued pacing and muttering to herself. Severus, on the other hand, was coolly flipping through his notebook with a furrowed look of perturbation. Unbeknownst to the Deputy Commissioner, Severus and Hermione both found his notes unsatisfactory and sketchy at best – but given the circumstances, it was better than nothing.

'Can you tell us anything else? Who consorted with the victims consorted? Where they lived and so?' asked Hermione trying to keep her annoyance of her friend's solicitous questions on her health in check.

'I've sent them to your flat. But we do not know whom they could have been with. We only have their home addresses and occupational addresses. No one at the scene of the crimes appeared to be bloody when we arrived on the scene. Local rumours blame the killings on spirits or demons,' said Ron sulkily when he realised Hermione was only interested in the case presently before her.

'How bloody were the bodies?' asked Severus sternly as he traced his lips in thought.

'Very much so!' exclaimed Ron with some horror in his face, as he withdrew a medium sized envelope from his pocket. 'Marietta Edgecome had her throat cut very badly, the head was nearly severed. Her body was also savagely stabbed, with a long slender blade. She was badly cut up but not quite torn apart.'

Hermione took the proffered envelope and perused the photos of the corpses in them with mild disgust and her eyes momentarily glassed over as she tried to pinpoint the type of weapon used.

'Do you mean to say she was disembowelled?' snapped Severus peevishly, for he was frustrated with the Deputy Commissioner's limited command of the English Language.

With a firm shake of the head, Ron shuddered. 'Marietta was not gutted, Snape. The later ones were. The killings appeared to grow in intensity. They are by far the bloodiest things I have ever seen here. And that's saying a lot because murders happen here everyday. These ones, with this crazy killer are just scary... too bloody, too violent. It looks too complex for the people here who usually just kill cleanly.'

'The gutting – was it like the kind sanctioned at the show-executions?' quizzed Severus.

'No, the things they do at the gallows and scaffold are clean. The ones you see here in these pictures,' Ron paused to indicate the pictures Hermione passed to Severus at that moment. 'The ones you see in these photos are not clean. There is much tearing and stabbing and hacking and slashing.'

'Gratuitous wouldn't you say, Dr Granger?' commented Severus in ironic tone.

'Quite right,' concurred Hermione with a thoughtful nod at her colleague when she caught the double pun in his comment. 'Come Ron; lead us to the other seven places where the bodies were found.'

'Why did you think of the show-executions?' Hermione asked Severus when Ron led them into the catacombs below an abandoned shrine to ancient Welsh wizards.

'An idle inclination, Dr Granger,' said Severus, a nerve twitching at the corner of his mouth in anxiety and annoyance. 'Decapitation and disembowelment sound very familiar don't they?'

'You think it's a government official?'

'Did I say anything like that?' he challenged, his eyes narrowing at her unflinching gaze.

Realising that they were at an intellectual impasse in their verbal fencing bout, Hermione decided to gracefully withdraw and pose another question. 'How do you think Ron can be told that his presence with us only keeps the suspect at bay? He is hell bent on refusing our exposure to this district.'

'Perhaps we should convince him of the merits of the salubrious air across the river?'

Hermione lowered her eyes and smiled at his dark humour. 'Good. I'll leave it to you to convince him that we are unable to interview the worst elements in these areas with his mother-hennish behaviour!'

Footnotes:

The title of this tale is a pun. 'Presents' is a double entendre. It means (1) gifts and (2) shows. If you take its latter meaning and dissect it, you will realise that I could mean it as a masque or pageant (in the 17th century understanding of the term). Think about it. I'll leave you to figure out how it fits with the story. 'Presents', as my beta pointed out, could also mean 'current' – which would be another pun for Christmas now under the Potter Administration and Christmas then, under the Voldemort administration.

'Curiousier and curiousier' is a line from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland.