A Cloud Before the Moon

Chapter 34 - An Unpleasant Journey

The next morning, Snape donned the Muggle clothing under his robe, and headed onto the streets of London proper. He spent little time there; his destination was King's Cross Station. However, he did not seek out the portion of the railway station unseen and unknown to the legions of Muggle travelers and commuters. Of course there was the wizards' line, that would have taken him to his destination, but he had decided that he was far less likely to run into an acquaintance if he traveled by Muggle rail. The idea had occurred to him in the shop where he'd purchased the Muggle attire. A sign above the counter announced that galleons would be exchanged for various Muggle forms of currency (at a usurious exchange rate, no doubt), and he had traded in a modest sum for British pounds, primarily for the purpose of procuring his rail ticket.

He managed to purchase the fare without incident, and then, having some time to spare, wandered over to a bookseller's shop to find some appropriate reading material for his trip. He purchased a paperback novel and a copy of the Times Then he meandered back to the railway station.

Once he boarded the train, he found an empty compartment. He stowed most of his purchases on the rack above the seats, but he kept his own traveling bag and the wand box close to his side. He sat down and opened the Times, but had little patience for Muggle news.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Snape looked up. A frazzled-looking middle-aged woman with long mousy hair and a few too many pounds on her stood peering at him anxiously through her glasses. She must have had to run for the train, because her hair was disheveled, her face was red and she was wheezing as she tried to catch her breath. He waved his hand vaguely toward the seat across from his and resumed reading.

The woman struggled with her bag, attempting to shove it into the rack above her seat. It fell down, hitting her in the forehead and knocking her glasses crooked. "Damn!" she exclaimed, with a distinctly American accent. She glanced over at him beseechingly for assistance, but he pretended to be too engrossed in the newspaper to notice.

Eventually, the woman got her bag to stay put and she settled down, now rummaging through her oversized and overstuffed purse. She pulled out a paperback book and began reading. After a while, Snape put aside the newspaper and picked up the novel he'd purchased. As he tried to make some sense out of the bizarre behavior of a character named Oedipa Maas, and to figure out what a Tupperware party was, he concluded that it had not been the best of all possible choices.

"Ohmigawd!" shrieked the woman across from him. Snape looked up in alarm. "Oh, I'm SO sawry", she said sheepishly, blushing bright red. "But, look, this is SO wee-ahd, we're reading the same book!"

Her peculiar manner of speech was rather dissonant to his ears, her manner was quite strident, and he had decided he'd ignore her. In the meantime, the woman, seemed to have entered a trance-like state. "Are you ill?" he asked, regretting the question the moment he'd asked.

The woman blushed an even deeper shade of crimson, if that were possible, and sank down in her seat. She waved her hands in the air. "No, I'm- I'm okay, thanks. Would you prefer - um - if I switched compawtmints?"

Actually, he would have preferred if she did so, but he considered having to endure her removal of her bag from the rack, and the disagreeable tumult that would surely engender. "No, that is quite alright."

"I'm sawry." She scrunched up her face rather comically.

"You needn't keep apologizing."

"Sawry. I mean - I'll shuddup now."

He nodded curtly and again picked up the book. He had plodded through two pages of incomprehensible gibberish, when he felt her staring at him. He glared at her over the top of the book, and her eyes flew back to her own copy. "Madame..."

To Snape's bewilderment and annoyance, the woman let out a snort of laughter. Once again, she said "Sawry, sawry!" She clapped her hand over her mouth, which did not prevent it from emitting another rather flatulent-sounding snort. Snape glared at her again. "You wouldn't be from New York, would you?"

"Yeah, I ee-am! I told my husband I wann-ed to see Europe, but he din't wanna come, so I told him he could stay home with the kids, and I..."

"It was a simple question, yes or no," he said icily. "I really do not care to learn your entire life story." He was sure that would send her packing (he now regretted having earlier turned down her offer), but she merely shrugged.

"Gotcha! I'll shut up then." And, after one last "Sawry," she was true to her word. It seemed that the rest of the trip would pass peacefully.

**

His peace however, was interrupted by another commotion just outside the compartment door. "Don't bother!" came a woman's voice in an aggravated tone just before the door banged open. The owner of the voice nearly fell into the compartment as the train went through a switch.

"Jesus!" The woman hissed and slumped into the seat next to the New Yorker. She huddled in what seemed to be an entire wardrobe worth of sweaters topped off with a thick wool coat. "It's freezing in this damned country all the time!"

Snape groaned internally as he recognized another American accent. He glared over his book again. "New York, is it?"

The newcomer glared back. "Hell no, it's just as cold there. And almost as wet. Does the sun ever shine here?" she looked to be examining him closely. "No," she decided apparently basing her conclusion on his complexion. "It does not."

He looked back into the incomprehensible book and pretended to be enjoying it. He noticed the newcomer eyeing him then turning to his original, now seemingly dumb, companion. He nearly dropped his book when he saw her catch the eye of the other woman and mouth what looked like the word "WOW" while waving her hand as if it were on fire. The bookish woman turned puce and buried her head in the pages of her novel but he could see her shoulders shaking with what appeared to be laughter.

"Well if you're all going to read..." The newcomer started fishing around in the oversized bag that had fallen into the compartment with her. "Aha!" she said quietly then snorted and looked up. "Oh perfect...dark, rain, misery and now this." She pulled a book out from the depths of the bag and settled back. Snape heard her riffling pages and looked up ready with a sharp comment but was struck silent by the title of the book she was holding: Dracula. The original. This did not bode well for continued peace. He had experience with this. He tried to figure out how much longer he'd have to stay on the train. The women had settled in for a long ride, it didn't appear either one of them would be getting off any time soon.

He had gotten so lost in his reverie he hadn't noticed the women had started a discussion.

"...The original, can't beat his Dracula."

"I don't know, just the thought of it gives me the creeps. I mean, do they really sleep in the dirt, inside the coffins?"

He snapped to attention. "What the bloody hell...?" He stopped himself quickly. He hadn't meant to say anything at all.

The two women gaped at him. He noticed an odd grin creeping across the face of the one holding Dracula. She glanced sideways at her companion. "Know a little about the children of the night, do you?" she asked.

"Quite a bit, actually. I can tell you that nearly everything in that book is absolute rubbish!" he answered curtly and held his book up hiding his face while wondering if it was worth the risk to hurl a quick spell at her. He fingered his wand absently.

"Well, thank you, professor. I honestly thought it was a true story," she sneered. "I'm glad you cleared that up for me."

"Do you mind?" he said in an exasperated tone, "I have had a difficult day, I have a long journey ahead and a miserable task to complete at the end of it. Is it too much to ask for just a little bit of peace and quiet?" His voice had risen in anger as he'd reminded himself of his mission.

The sweater woman glared at him, but her eyes were shining. "Bite me!" she snapped.

The first woman doubled over in what he hoped was a sneezing attack. It seemed to go on for quite some time.

It was quiet for a few minutes and he hoped it would remain that way. The women had decided to go back to their reading, despite their choice of materials. He felt himself starting to doze off.

"Hey! Wait a minute!"

He opened one eye.

"You said nearly everything in this book is rubbish. What do you mean nearly?"

He ignored the question.

"Oh come on..."

He slapped his book down on the seat beside him with an exasperated sigh. "What? What is it you want to know?"

She held up Dracula. "What part of this is true?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "You really want to know?"

"Really."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"The biting and sucking part," he said with a sneer.

The woman from New York to exploded in another fit...this time coughing. He looked over at her nervously. His challenger, however registered nothing.

"Shee--it," she said in a drawl. "Okay then, how about the part if you get bitten by one then you turn into one?"

"Not necessarily."

"Evening wear all the time?"

"No!"

Miss Noo Yawk had recovered and decided to join in the tutorial. "Can they toin into bats?

"Not unless they could do it before..."

The trouble maker tried again. "Well then, how about the irresistable sexual magnetism?"

"Listen. You wouldn't want to get within a hundred yards of a real vampire. They are indescribably revolting. They're dead! They look dead and they smell dead."

"You're making this up!"

"I assure you, I am not."

"Oh well what then, did you go to some special school?"

He allowed a malicious grin to cross his face and he said, "Well yes, actually. A very exclusive one, as a matter of fact."

"Uh huh," they both responded and exchanged a knowing glance. Just as he'd hoped. Tell people the truth and they're sure you're insane.

"I loiked Lestat better anyway," the New Yorker informed her companion. "He can bite and suck me any-toim at awl!"

They both broke up laughing and Snape rolled his eyes. He'd never found himself wanting to expose the truth about the magical world to Muggles, but these two could really use a dose of reality as far as magical beings were concerned.

"Lestat's cool, but Louis is a wimp. Imagine having him following you around whining for all eternity. Then he went and made that little girl into a vampire too."

"Oh noo...." he groaned. Again he hadn't meant to do so aloud.

"What's wr-awnk? Is that, like, against some vampire code or ethics or somethink?"

Snape leaned forward and sank his head into his hands. "A vampire wouldn't know a code of ethics if it jumped up and bit him on the ear!" he mumbled into his palms.

"Biting again," one of them said.

"Well it's awl-roiyt, Lestat burned them up anyway in the end by locking them out in the sun."

"Thank goodness for that!" he looked up and snapped at them.

**

It was quite apparent that the two American women were intent on making his trip unbearable. The second one, in particular, seemed to have absolutely no sense of propriety. And the first one had some disagreeable medical condition which caused her to cough, sneeze and choke spasmodically. Perhaps she was allergic to the other one's vile cologne, because each time #2 leaned over to speak to her, #1 would go into one of her fits. He made a concerted effort to ignore them and concentrate on the god awful novel.

",,, So which d'ya recommend, arsenic or strychnine?"

"Well, hemlock's always in good taste - it has good historical precedent."

His eyes flew towards the two women, chatting amiably about deadly poisons. "I should be glad to tell you where you might procure any of those substances," he spat, "if you promise you will use it!"

The New Yorker grinned. "Now, that's a deal. About how much d'ya think we need to knock 'em off?"

Eyes wide with alarm, he demanded "Who?"

"Our husbands, that's who. That is what we were talking about."

He was flabbergasted. "I think it behooves me to notify the authorities of your intentions," he informed her stiffly.

The other one piped up. "Who do you think they'll believe, a couple of nice, harmless American tourist ladies or..."

"Or what?" he demanded, face growing flushed.

She grinned broadly. "Or a vampire."

He stared at her stonily. "I - AM - NOT - A - VAMPIRE!"

New York nudged the troublemaker. "Y'know, he does seem a bit defensive - dontcha think?"

He regretted his outburst - but it was in fact a bit of a sore spot with him.

New York continued, probably spurred on by her new comrade's boldness. "By the way, Mr. Vampire Expert, do you mind if I open the window shade?" She lifted the corner of it and peeked out. "It is awfully bright out, though. Would that disturb you?" She smirked at him insufferably.

Wordlessly, he leaned over and opened the shade fully. The women squinted in the glare of the sunlight. "There, are you happy now?" he growled from between clenched teeth.

"A bit disappointed ack-chully. It would been great to go home and tell everyone I'd watched a vampire disintegrate."

Well, he thought, at least that was the end of that, but the torment was not destined to end there. The woman reached into her bag and pulled out a camera. "Y'know, I want to show my friends back home pictures of the nice people I meet on my trip. How 'bout one of the two of you?"

Snape snarled, "I wouldn't be caught DEAD in a photograph with either of you!"

Big-mouth leaned over to her accomplice and whispered loudly, "Pretty fly for a dead guy." Both women began giggling again. A stupefying charm would be just the ticket. Oh, for the good old days, when Muggle torture was condoned. Surely Dumbledore would understand extenuating circumstances.... But no, self-control was the key. He was on their turf, even if they were bloody colonials. He stood up and glared at them. "I've had it! If you two are staying here, I am moving!" He gathered his belongings and stalked out of the compartment.

The two women sat in silent disappointment at the departure of their hapless victim.

"Maybe we got a little carried away. Shoo-ah it was fun an' all, but he was awf'ly cute. Too bad we scee'd him away."

Her companion smiled knowingly. "He'll be back."

"Ya think? Think he really likes us, but won' admit it?"

"No, I think he can't stand us. However..." She pointed a finger at the rack across from them. In his hurry to flee, the vampire-expert had left his package behind.

"Ah!"

Sure enough, the pale, slender dark-eyed young man reappeared at the door.

"Oh, you missed us?"

He shot them a withering glance. "I left something behind!"

"Oh shaw, go ahead and make excuses! Which one of us has won yaw feency? I bet it's me!" She began fanning herself vigorously. "Oh, be still, my beading hawt!"

He smirked malevolently. "THAT can be arranged."

"Oh no" said the other one. "I know he's fallen for me. He might not admit it, but he's intrigued with my quick wit and clever repartee."

"Uh-uh," responded New York. "It's me. You can't resist my exotic eah-ccent and my intellec-chuality."

Snape rolled his eyes, wondering if this journey would ever end.