To Be True

A/N: With only one chapter left, my laptop did the unthinkable, it crashed and fried. [Le sigh] I lost everything and what was worse, I did have everything backed up on a thumb drive but sadly, I lost that as well. I have no clue where I misplaced it at either.

It really is a shame. Thankfully, I did have the last chapter written out and I know what I wrote so it wasn't that hard to rewrite it.

So here is the last chapter.

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Chapter 9: To Thine Own Self Be True

Garion and Hermione were walking through the quaint little village of Sims Meadow, not far from the theater. The shaggy-maned teen watched as Hermione gleefully explored the main street shops.

The main focus of the village was its Bohemian life style. The sun was shining. The local artisans were taking advantage of the mild weather by displaying their wares outside on the sidewalks. Tourists wandered freely, gawking at the different booths as they too strolled down main street.

Hermione had needed this day of relaxation after the grueling trial before the Wizengamot two days before. Although it had come out in her favor, Garion and the Goblin King had been forced to demonstrate what magic truly was and why it was so very important not to dismiss the Old Ways so cavalierly. In the end it was sad in a way as some of the members of the Wizengamot, including Albus Dumbledore, had failed to comprehend this fact and paid the ultimate price.

She'd also been informed by Gringotts that the Wizarding World was now looking for her and Garion, to rectify what 'they' had done.

However, Garion sent to the Daily Prophet a copy of the proclamation that His Royal Majesty, King Oberon, had given him. He included an official transcript of the Wizengamot session and its aftermath.

The newspaper didn't want to believe, or even print, the missive. That was until a letter with the official Gringotts seal attached threatened to foreclose on the out-standing loan the paper carried if they didn't.

Then things got a little hot! People in the Wizarding World didn't want to hear that they could lose their magic if they didn't change their ways and stop using it as a crutch.

One of many dissidents was Molly Weasley, only because of what happened to Albus Dumbledore. She was very vocal in making her displeasure known-loudly and frequently!

It was pointed out by the Unspeakables that what Miss Granger had written was the truth. If people chose to dismiss it . . .they were in danger of losing their magic as well.

The few that had been grateful that the truth was finally told, were quiet. They were the ones more in tune with their magic, like Luna Lovegood, Filius Flitwick and, strangely enough, many of the muggle borns.

Hermione stood by her work and it made the best seller list for several weeks, earning her a tidy sum.

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The strolling couple left main street and headed for the village library. Hermione had an interview with the aged librarian.

"I'll leave you here, Hermione," Garion said with a slight bow when they reached the door of the public library building. "Don't worry, Miss Harcourt will like you. She's looking to retire next year to go live with her daughter in another state. Just be yourself. You'll do just fine."

"Easy for you to say, Garion," Hermione groused, placing a hand on the door handle.

She'd needed leave England after all the trouble her book stirred up. Thankfully, she had gotten her masters in magical history, now she can concentrate on her mundane mastery in Library Science and working here would help cement that.

"Relax," Garion said with a wave of his hand as he turned away. "I'll be at the theater when you're finished. We'll do lunch and you'll tell me all about your interview. Mother's looking forward to you being here in the community. Her book club could use a new member."

Hermione smiled as she watched her best friend walk down the sidewalk. Yes, it would be good living here in the village with its mix of magic and mundanes.

The interview was just a formality anyways. She and the aged librarian had been corresponding for few months. Both of them were rabid bibliophiles, so there wasn't anything to worry about. She hoped.

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Seth Prince looked out at the emptied pathway in front of his booth. The sun was setting and it was closing time, thank Merlin! The patrons were making for the gate, which was alright with him, as he started to pack up for the evening. He had another day at this two weekend faire before it closed for the summer.

Jason was packing in the back of the pavilion, battening everything down for the night. Seth was closing the cash box and stowing it into the bags they were taking back to the RV when. . .

"Hey! You still open?" came a man's voice at the front of the booth.

"For the moment, milord," Seth said. His British accent sounded tired and grumpy. He had been told that the more he played up his sexy accent and flair the more the patrons were willing to spend. He hated it, but right now he was very tired and wanting to put his feet up with a glass of wine.

He turned to face the two men standing just inside his booth. The pair were very out of place, even at the faire, with their camo cargo pants and black tee shirts. They had the feel of predators. It didn't even take a passive scan of their surface thoughts to know what they were.

'Damn, Hunters!' he thought as he allowed the men into his booth. 'Just what I need.' He took a deep breath and asked. "How may I help you, milords?"

"Cut the act," one of them demanded with a scowl. "We know the fair's closing soon. We just need some supplies and then we'll be on our way."

The men looked around the booth and the various wooden bins and shelves that housed the many herbs, spices and potions that Seth sold. They looked around at a few of the runes that had been carved, or painted, on the poles of the booth and a few small stones lining the entrance. Seth maintained his passive mask as they poked about.

Thankfully the runes were simple ones to attract patrons. Few had knowledge of them and simply viewed them as 'decoration'.

The runes on his booth were just simple protection spells and a couple were just plain nonsense. The more powerful ones were well hidden from the public. He wondered if the pair could read them.

One of them handed out a list of items for Seth to gather. Both kept Seth in their line of sight at all times, and both were curious about his booth.

"What gives, man?" one asked, holding up a small bottle that read: "Love Potion No. 9."

Seth gave a slight smile. "It's for show, sir. As the song goes. . . It is one of my best sellers." The man snorted and placed the potion back on the shelf.

Seth noted that all movement in the back had stopped. He hoped that Jason realized what he was dealing with and slipped out the back for security. The boy didn't need to be around these two.

As Seth bagged up the pair's purchases and dealt with the receipt, Jason returned with Security.

"Thanks, man," one of them said. "These supplies are just what we need. We'll take a card and maybe send more business your way."

Seth hid a grimace. Just what he needed. He knew most hunters used organic herbs in their hunt for the supernatural. However, that didn't mean he had to like supplying them.

What most hunters couldn't get at the local mega-mart they could find at the local renfaires.

Seth had noticed many of the Wiccans and benign magical creatures cringed and hid when there were hunters in the area. Hunters of the Supernatural sometimes failed to differentiate between 'dark' and 'evil' and so did more harm than good. He had been warned it was always wise to step carefully when they were in the area.

Seth watched as security escorted the two men off site. When they turned the corner towards the main gate, he took a deep breath of relief. "Finish packing up the front. Act normal. I'm placing a call," he informed Jason, who nodded.

"Yes, sir. Think they'll be back?"

"Who can say," Seth said. "They seemed interested in the fact that I had rune carvings." Or the fact that he sold fake love potions. . . "Finish what you were doing."

The tall, former professor of Hogwarts walked into the back of the pavilion and lifted the skirting on a table, exposing the small shadow beneath it.

The tiny goblin who had attached himself to Seth, was huddled into the darkest part of the shadows. "Bad mans gone? No come back?" the childish voice asked.

Pugsy had been with Seth for years now and he was very devoted to the 'dark man'. Severus was glad to have the little guy around, especially when he needed something from the Underground.

"Yes Pugsy, they are gone. However, I need Garion. It's very important. Can you do that?"

"Pugsy goes and gets Princey! Not good to have such bad mans here. Not good." The tiny goblin faded back into the shadows as Seth straightened. Yes bad mans were very bad. He needed back up if he had to deal with hunters.

Jason was good with his magic but not experienced or powerful enough to deal with two men hell bent on destroying all magic in the world.

0o0o0o0o0o0

It was well past midnight. The night was quiet except for a few cars and a train rumbling through the small city of Denhome.

On the outskirts of the city was a run down, family owned motel where the two hunters had called it a night.

"I'm telling you, Glen, that merchant gave me bad vibes. Are you sure he's legit?"

"Sure am," said Glen as he punched the keys on his laptop. "He even has a website. His prices aren't that bad. Maybe, we should keep him as a supplier? The stuff we got today was good quality."

"But still, those runes were legit, I tell you! And that love potion. You must've noticed?!"

"Hmmm. Maybe, but the ones I snapped a pic of weren't. And I read the label. It's mostly soda water and herbs, nothing magical about that," Glen told his partner. A few more taps on the keyboard and Glen sighed. "Well, I think he's a bust. Damn. Not having a hunt is boring."

"I still say we check out that faire some more."

"Maybe. I'm calling it a night."

What the pair of hunters didn't know was they were being watched from the shadows. Nor did they hear the soft music coming from them.

As the pair checked the salt lines and sutras that they used to ward their motel room for the night, they never suspected that such things didn't affect goblins. These childish imps loved to play pranks and were the cause of many sounds that go bump in the night. The impish goblins just thumbed their noses at the

talismans the Hunters used to keep many magical creatures at bay.

Soon the men's breathing drifted into deep slumber, helped by the soft music of a guitar as two figures stepped out of the shadows.

"Seems you were correct, as usual, Sev," commented the shorter of the two. "And from the looks of things, they're between hunts."

Sev peered down at the sleeping men and shook his head. He wished he hadn't been correct. He quickly probed their sleeping minds and what he found was disgusting! He was going to need a long soak to get rid of the sewer that these two called brains.

"They aren't redeemable, Garion," Severus said as he pulled out of their minds. "They don't care who they go after. To them all magic is evil and must be destroyed. And yet they use magic to protect themselves, sanctimonious bastards!"

"A pity," Garion said as he pulled out a cell phone and hit a number on speed dial. "Hello . . . Garion. . . We have some hunters that aren't redeemable. . . Yeap. But you'll have to come and take out the trash. . . No, I won't be here when you get here. . . The address is. . . "

Severus sighed. He hated this part. Many hunters could be made to see reason, and realize that this world needed magic and wonder. They failed to understand what they really needed to hunt. . . evil existed in many forms and the greater majority of them were mundane in nature.

Many hunters could be recruited to help the magical police, and were taught to tell good from evil. They were given credentials, and the bounty money they earned helped support their life style.

However, some hunters, like this pair, no longer cared who they hurt. In their twisted minds all magic had to be destroyed. They killed anything that didn't even remotely fit in their ideal of normal. Never realizing the damage they were causing to the world around them.

"All set, Sev," Garion said as he pocketed his phone. A sad look crossed his face as he pulled out his guitar. "Tomorrow, these two will be nothing more than a statistic."

Severus Snape sighed, as he placed a hand over the young bard's. "Allow me, brat."

Garion closed his eyes and gave a small nod.

Severus took a deep breath at the foot between each bed, raised his hands and started to invoke:

". . .For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, . . ."

Hamlet was one of his favorite plays and it was fitting to use Prince of Denmark's famous words for this situation. As he spoke, magic welled up under his out stretched hands.

". . . But that the dread of something after death, —
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, — puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know naught of? . . . "

The two men began to glow as magic took their memories, their knowledge, their pasts and their futures away from them. It was harsh but their crimes against magic were too great to leave them in peace. They killed the good and innocent along with the bad and evil. They revelled in destroying the beauty of this world.

". . .And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action." *

Severus dropped his hands as the last of his bardic magic finished the task at hand. It was always sad to render such a sentence. The pair would be picked up by the Department of Magic. The motel manager would be made to forget the pair. Whatever happened, it was now out of Severus' and Garion's hands.

Garion came over and placed a hand on his one time professor and former bardic apprentice. "Time to go home, it is, Severus. Nothing more to teach you, I can."

Severus turned to face his younger companion and gave Garion a petulant expression. "Must you?" Placing a hand over his tired eyes, he sighed. "However, it is late and I have a faire to get back to."

Garion laughed as the two stepped into the shadows. "Learned, you have, the ways of magic, young Master Severus."

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* Hamlet, Act 3, scene 1

This is the last chapter. Don't worry, you may see more of Severus and Garion as they refuse to allow any of our plot bunnies die.

GF is still looking for the misplaced thumb drive with all her back up stories on it. If anyone can say a pray or two, it would be appreciated.

Until next time. -GF and the Frau