By
Disclaimer: All items relating or pertaining to the Harry Potter Universe belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Inc., and the Warner Brothers Co. Please don't sue me, I have no money.
Author: Joy
Title: Black Cadillac
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In answer to the 'Snape's Wheels' plotbunny on WIKTT. The year is 1999, and the war rages on. But for two of wizarding kind's brightest minds, the time has come where survival is priority. Can they find escape together? Will they find it in one another? SS/HG.
AN: The title is inspired by Jordan Avenue's song 'Blue Cadillac'. A great song to listen to while reading this fic! Check out the artist at jordanave.com
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Headmaster Dumbledore,
I wish this letter was arriving under better circumstances; however, I find that such is not the case. I do not have much time, so I will get right to the point.
Voldemort knows.
I do not understand how he found out. There has to be a spy in our ranks. It was classified information, for Merlin's sake! There was no way he could have found out unless someone in the Order has been feeding him information. I don't want to point any fingers, mainly because I have no idea who would commit such treachery.
But the fact remains that he knows and my life is now in danger.
I have no one else to turn to. I need your help. I do not wish to die. I can contribute so much to our cause; but I can't if I'm lying six feet under.
You're the only person whom I can trust. Help me. Please!
Hermione Granger
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Hermione Granger quickly sealed the letter and fastened it to Fawkes' leg. The radiant pheonix gave a soft trill before disappearing with a soft pop. The letter was of the utmost importance, and had to be delivered right away. Thankfully, Fawkes had appeared when the young witch had touched the tip of her wand to the golden Pheonix tattoo on her left wrist. The tattoo was given to all Order members upon initiaton. It allowed them to summon Fawkes for emergencies; and also emitted a soft glow when Dumbledore called a meeting. Right now, Hermione was silently thanking Dumbledore for his ingenious thinking.
Crawling over to a corner of the dark, abandoned flat, Hermione curled into a ball and rested her chin on her knees. As a tear slipped down her cheek, she recalled the events of the evening.
It was a short walk from the alleyway to her parent's neihborhood, and Hermione was a fast walker. So it was less than 5 minutes when she looked up from the paved grown and gasped in horror.
Halfway down the street, the luminous Dark Mark hovered above her parent's modest, 2-story home. Crying out in anguish, Hermione whiped out her wand and began running. She spared nothing a second glance as she barrelled through the door. Only then, did she stop. The house was quiet; uneeringly quiet. Pushing open the kitchen door, her eyes grew wide.
Her mother was lying upon the table; skin blue and eyes as cold and empty as glass. Obviously the effects of the Killing Curse, the woman had died before she knew what hit her. Hermione took a deep breath and stepped forward. There was something blocking her path; however, causing her to fall to the ground, sprawled out over the body of her father.
A sob escaped her body as she saw that his death had not been so easy. Apparently, the Death Eaters now fancied muggle guns. There were at least five shotgun wounds to his head; and another three to his torso. There was blood everywhere; including all over Hermione.
A noise at the back of the house caused Hermione to scramble to her feet. It was then that she noticed the message burned into her mother's flesh.
I know it was you, Mudblood.
"Bastards!" She screamed, before disapperating. She was so wraught with anguish that she hadn't concentrated while she apparated; thus landing in the abandoned flat, instead of her own. Perhaps luck was on her side; for they would surley assume she'd return to her home, where they could follow and finish their business.
"I'll be right back, Crookshanks." Hermione cooed to her aging kneazle, who was currently weaving his way in intricate patterns about her feet. "I'm just going to visit Mum and Dad." The young witch, fresh out of school, bent over and scratched the feline behind his ears. "No worries." With a soft smile, Hermione disapperated from her small flat, appearing seconds later at the end of a deserted alleyway. She quickly looked around to make sure there had been no unwanted observers, before setting off into the night.
"It's you!" A deep, masculine voice shouted; drawing Hermione's attention away from her mother and to the kitchen door. There stood three Death Eaters, all of which had the hands outstreched and wands pointed at her.
That was hours ago. Since then, Hermione had rummaged through the small apartment, searching for anything to write on and with. She had found a nearly empty pen, and a ratty old cloth to use. It wasn't ideal, but it suited her purposes just fine.
It was nearly an hour before a reply arrived, curtesy of Fawkes.
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I was startled by your letter, and deeply agreived. I, too, wonder who could have betrayed the entire Order's trust. And your safetly. I didn't have much time to dwell on the circumstances; however, and I set plans into motion immediately.
There is another who's life is in danger, yet we can't spare to death. If you can be at the entrance to London Bridge in 15 minutes, he will meet you there. Together, you will flee and seek refuge. I am the only one who knows of this plan, aside from the two of you. I have enacted the Fidelus charm, to ensure that the plan and your future whereabouts will have no chance of falling into Voldemort's hands.
Just look for a black Cadillac. Your companion will inform you of the entire plan; as we haven't the time to do so in correspondance.
Be safe.
Albus Dumbledore
Hermione,
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Hermione blinked rapidly. She didn't have much time. If she apparated, they may find her. It was amazing they hadn't traced her magical trail here yet, but Hermione had no wish of sticking around.
Rising to her feet, she quickly looked around. She hadn't searched the small place when she'd arrived, so she had no idea where the exit was. After trying several doors, Hermione found one that led to a hall, which she followed to a set of stairs. Three flights of the rickety contraption later, she was breathing the night air.
Hermione soon discovered that London Bridge wasn't that far away. The cold nipped at her nose and cheeks as she hurried through the dark, empty streets. All the while, her eyes darted all around her. The last thing she needed was to be followed. It would not only ensure her death, but that of her unknown companion.
She let out a relieved sigh when she spotted the entrance to the Bridge, and saw a black Cadillac XLR parked on the side. Brushing hair out of her face, Hermione sprinted the rest of the distance to the car. The top was up, the windows tinted; perfect for a getaway. Clasping the handle, she yanked the door open and slid into the passenger seat. As soon as the door was closed, the car took off into the night.
Hermione kept her eyes on the road as she caught her breath and willed her heartrate to slow. Only when she could feel the warmth returning to her face and hands did she dare glance at the driver.
"Professor Snape!"
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Sorry for the cliffie! I wanted you wanting more! Please review. Your comments keep me going. If I don't feel that the story is drawing readers, I probably will not continue. MAKE ME CONTINUE!
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