Chapter One: Of Favors and Debts
It was a brisk, chilling October night, with scathing cold winds that penetrated one's very bones, and only a sliver of moonlight as guidance for those brave enough to face the elements. Severus Snape had no intention of leaving his quarters, and was fairly certain he could hear the wind howling against the stone walls of Hogwarts even in the dungeons. It was a night for peace and solitude, a night to take a break from grading countless incompetent essays written by equally incompetent students. He strode to his personal locked cabinet of potions ingredients for a small bottle of centaur hairs; he would need them for his brewing later that night.
Abruptly, the fireplace at the far side of his quarters flared a bright green, which started Snape so thoroughly that he almost dropped the small phial.
"Severus, you are needed," said the floating head of Lucius Malfoy. His voice, normally with little inflection or clues to his mood, was now strained and almost hoarse. This startled Snape even more than the unannounced firecall had, and he quickly grabbed his cloak hanging from the mantle.
"Lucius, I imagine this holds high enough importance to permit disturbing me at this hour," he murmured, though Snape already had known that nothing less than a true emergency would cause the elder Malfoy to contact him through his personal fireplace.
"Of course, Severus. I will await you in the entrance hall." Lucius's head swiftly vanished from the grate, and the fire resumed glowing a muted orange.
Snape quickly grabbed some floo powder from a silver container above the fireplace, threw it into the flames, and yelled, "Malfoy Manor!" He never had liked traveling this way, and preferred to avoid it at all costs. It was the most undignified travel, and even the most graceful people ended up at their destination looking ruffled and unbalanced. Snape stepped into a large, very ornate room, just barely catching himself from tripping on the hem of his cloak. He scanned the room with a small hint of embarrassment coloring his face, and was grateful to find that Lucius had already left for the entrance hall. He shook the dust from his robes and made his way to the hall, a hard mass of unease uncurling in his stomach with every step.
He found Lucius sitting in a high backed chair, his hair unkempt as it fell past his shoulders and his face turned away from Severus. The mass of unease Snape had felt evolved into a more tangible notion of dread that rocked its way from his stomach to the tips of his fingers. In all his days knowing Lucius and begrudgingly working beside him, he had never seen the man look like this. He seemed defeated, small, and hopeless. Snape did not want to imagine what news had sent the cold, prideful, seemingly soulless Death Eater before him into a cowering mess of a man who seemed to be a few seconds away from shattering.
"Lucius," Snape hissed, his voice a little more than a whisper. "What has happened?"
Lucius waved a hand as if to dismiss the question. Snape stood silent for almost a minute, waiting with what little patience he could muster for a response. The blond man shook his head slowly and turned to Severus with hollow eyes. "My son, Severus. Our Lord has taken my son."
Snape took in a sharp breath, disbelief flashing across his face. "Impossible," he breathed. "I saw him in the Great Hall not a few hours ago."
Lucius shook his head again, a smile that had nothing to do with mirth tugging at his lips. "Polyjuice, Severus," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "You know our Lord requires the hair and blood of all of his followers."
Snape took a step forward, his temper rising. "Yes," he hissed, "but the boy is not Marked!"
Lucius turned his head away again as the strange smile fell from his face. "He is. This past summer. The Dark Lord left little room for negotiation."
A look of distaste swept across Snape's features before he could stop himself. He clamped down hard on his emotions and his voice was ice as he spoke. "And what have they done with my godson, Lucius?" His hands were clenched at his side, his nails digging into the palms of his hands.
"He... fought against his new title. I always had known that he was loathe to take the Mark, and Narcissa had felt the same," Lucius said, his voice low and tight. Snape felt his anger threatening to unleash itself again.
"Lucius," Snape snapped. "What have they done with my godson?" His words cracked like a whip, but Lucius seemed unphased as he continued.
"I should have removed him when I had the chance. Narcissa was more than happy to relocate him to Durmstrang, but I was too blind to anticipate this outcome. He faltered like I should have known he would, and our Lord deemed him useless." Lucius's eyes adopted that hollow look from before, and Snape felt a stab of fear hit him in the chest.
"You can't mean to tell me that he is-"
"No, Severus, he is not dead. The Dark Lord knows he would lose my allegiance to him if that happened, and with it he would lose my influence and monetary support." Lucius paused, as if he was unsure how to continue. "They've taken his mind, Severus," his voice no more than a rasp. "He knows nothing of who he is. All of his memories, everything that makes him my son, gone." Lucius bowed his head, unable to shield the pained look on his face. "They have released him somewhere remote. I do not know the location."
Snape swore under his breath, his mind spinning. Lucius had told him nothing of Draco's initiation, and the boy himself had avoided Snape since the beginning of the year. Rage coursed through him, and he wanted to shake the elder Malfoy for being so asinine. Instead, he turned swiftly on his heel towards the fireplace in the other room, his cloak billowing behind him. He felt no need to issue a farewell to Lucius, and he almost did not hear the Death Eater as he spoke.
"Find my son, Severus. Find him, and take him far away from here."
Clenching his teeth, Severus flooed back to his quarters, his mind pulsing with rage and a grim determination to find one of the handful of people he cared about in this world.
Harry Potter sat staring at the unappetizing lump of food on his plate, small parts of conversation drifting in and out of his awareness. The start of the school year had passed with little fanfare, and today seemed to be no exception.
"...Malfoy getting a break like that!" Ron had raised his voice, and Harry had only caught the last bit of his sentence. He looked up from his dinner to give his friend a questioning look.
"Which Malfoy?" Harry asked, even though he had a strong idea of who Ron meant.
"The ferret's father! He attacked us, Harry, he could have killed us! How is it that he even got a lawyer to represent him?" he spat, and small flecks of whatever he was chewing went airborne over the Gryffindor table.
Hermione's head shot up at that, and she looked torn between giving Ron a literal answer to his question and scolding him for chewing with his mouth open. Harry quickly spoke before she could decide, effectively stopping the lecture before it started.
"Yes," Harry said, shaking his head and eying the speck of food next to his plate with disdain. "It's more than unfair. But really, Ron, when have we ever expected fair when it was concerning Malfoy?" Harry let Ron continue ranting over pureblood influences and stole a glance at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting stone still, not eating, but observing everyone around him. Pansy had crossed her arms and was glaring at him, but Malfoy never seemed to notice. Harry narrowed his eyes. Something was... off.
What's he planning now? It has to be something big, he's not even acknowledging Parkinson. I wonder if he-
A shrill voice interrupted his thoughts. "Ronald! When you decide to grow up, I'll be waiting for an apology!" A very furious Hermione stormed past him while Ron sat silent in anger, turning multiple shades of red and pink every few seconds.
"What happened this time?" Harry gave Ron a look of sympathy as the redhead tried to think of the right response.
In the end, Ron just ended up muttering, "It's Hermione," and went back to eating his dinner with much less vigor. Harry sighed, it was always a long night when they were fighting. He turned to look at the Slytherin table once again, only to find Malfoy rise quite suddenly from his seat and walk out of the Great Hall. Harry could feel his brow furrow, and he had a moment's thought to follow the other boy.
His better judgment told him to stay seated, even though his curiosity was getting the better of him. He ended up siding with his common sense and followed Ron back to the Gryffindor Tower. Malfoy's strange behavior circled his thoughts the entire way.
Ron muttered the password to the Fat Lady and they both climbed inside. Hermione had taken up residence in one of the armchairs scattered throughout the common room, and upon noticing their entrance, gave the redhead a glare that could have scared much braver men than Ron away.
Harry swallowed, keeping the portrait open. "I think I'll let you deal with this one."
Ron's face turned an interesting shade of gray, and he nodded at Harry as he ducked back out of the portrait hole.
Well, I guess I could use a nice walk and some time to think. He let his feet guide the way through the castle, not really bothering to choose a destination. He was too preoccupied with what he saw at dinner, and almost missed the quiet steps of someone briskly walking the halls. Feeling curious again, Harry decided to follow close behind to find out who was in such a hurry.
To his surprise, he nearly ran straight into Professor Snape, who had spun around and eyed him with barely contained anger.
"Out roaming the halls, are we, Potter?" Harry flinched despite himself, and Snape's lip curled. "I have no time to deal with you. I suggest you return to your House." He turned quickly and his robes snapped behind him as he rounded another corner.
Harry's curiosity peaked yet again that night, and he desperately wanted to find out what had Professor Snape looking so flustered. He debated with himself for a few seconds, then promptly threw any notion of common sense out the window. He was going to follow Snape, and he was going to find out what was going on.
At least it will be interesting, even if it does get me murdered by Snape.
Harry quickly pressed himself against the stone corridor, fearing Snape had turned around and spotted him. When he finally dared look out, he found to his relief that Snape was no longer even in the same hallway. He let out a soft whoosh of breath and continued following behind the professor, keeping mind to walk as carefully as he could.
He rounded yet another corner, getting tired and wary of all the turns Snape was taking. Harry frowned as he found himself in an empty corridor, barely lit by candlelight and seeming to have at least three different exits out of it. He strained to listen for footsteps heading down one of the possible paths, but the only noises he could hear were his own heart beating in his ears and a steady gnawing sound, as if a rat was making its way in through the wall. Harry had decided to admit defeat and turn around when he felt a sharp grip on his shoulder and was thrown into the wall before he could utter protest.
Snape had his wand to his throat, and even through the dim light Harry could make out the hatred in his eyes. "You dare," the professor breathed, inches from his face, "attempt to follow a Death Eater?" He paused to press his wand a little harder into Harry's skin, causing the boy to grimace. "You impudent child, what did you imagine the outcome of this situation would be?" Harry froze, unable to find his voice to answer Snape's question.
Snape opened his mouth for a scathing remark when he heard footsteps coming from one of the pathways at the end of the corridor. He swore under his breath and pushed Harry rather violently in the small alcove a few feet away. "Silencio," he intoned, voice barely above a whisper. Harry glared daggers into Snape's back as the spell hit him, only choosing to remain still to find out who the professor wanted to hide him from.
Harry sucked in a small breath of air when he saw a very blond head emerge from the darkness of the westernmost hallway. He seemed not to notice Snape, who was pressed up against the wall not ten feet in front of him. Malfoy continued walking past Snape, gaze trained straight ahead, when the professor snapped, "Stupefy!" and the boy fell directly in front of Harry, his glassy eyes seeming to be pointed directly at Harry.
Harry felt a course of shock run through his body, and true fear crept its way into his mind. If Snape was willing to stun his favorite student, he didn't want to imagine what he would do to him. Harry made an attempt to run, but a hand snatched the back of his robes and he was thrown against the wall again.
"Always need to be the center of events, don't we, Potter?" Venom laced his words, and Harry stopped breathing. "You will follow behind me. You will make no sounds. You will make no attempt to run. Do you understand me, Mr. Potter?" His voice was icy and clipped, and Harry took a few seconds to unfreeze his muscles and nod at the professor. "I will remove the charm after we have reached the Headmaster's office," he added as an afterthought before he turned to levitate and cast a disillusionment charm on Malfoy's body.
Harry felt his mouth dry out and realized he probably couldn't have spoken even if Snape hadn't charmed him. He hurried out of the alcove towards the professor, who was already several feet ahead of him and keeping a very brisk pace. His thoughts whirled around in his head and a dull throbbing had started in his temples. Harry spent the entire walk trying to decide which question he wanted to ask first, but they all seemed to elude him as they finally reached the stone gargoyle. "Pecan pinwheels," Snape muttered, and Harry would have found it rather amusing if the man before him hadn't just stunned one of his students. The Potions Master turned to glare at him as if he could hear his thoughts, and Harry froze still, expecting a hex when the older man raised his wand. Instead, Snape removed the silencing charm with more than a little contempt in his voice.
Harry stayed silent all the way up the curving stairway to Dumbledore's office, relief washing over him when he was finally sure that Snape wasn't going to curse him and hand him over to Voldemort. He stayed quite a few feet behind the professor, making sure not to run into the floating body of Draco Malfoy. He heard Snape knock, and a deep voice responded, "Come in, Severus."
Harry walked in the office after Snape, and was shocked to find that Dumbledore just nodded gravely when Snape removed the disillusionment charm from Malfoy. The Headmaster turned his gaze to Harry, his eyes hard and a few shades dimmer than he remembered. "Have a seat, Mr. Potter, I am sure we have much to discuss. Severus, about how long would you say the potion will remain in effect?"
Snape sneered at the body placed unceremoniously in the middle of the office floor and said, "An hour. No longer than two."
Harry could feel his eyebrows rising, tens of questions poised on the tip of his tongue. He remained silent, however, when he saw Dumbledore bow his head, his face seemingly much older than Harry was used to.
Dumbledore's voice was quiet as he asked, "Do you hold any insight as to who this might be, Severus?"
Harry couldn't keep his silence any longer. "Who it might be?" His voice came out raspy and hoarse, and it sounded more like a croak than a question.
Dumbledore shook his head, eyes trained somewhere off in the distance, his voice soft when he replied. "This is not Draco Malfoy, my dear boy. My wards have faltered, and we should feel lucky that only a single Polyjuiced Death Eater made it into the castle, and not Voldemort himself."
Harry swallowed hard, and looked to Snape, who was pacing along the wall. "Albus, Lucius has informed me that Voldemort has obliviated the boy. Completely. He has been turned loose somewhere in the wilderness, or so Lucius believes," he said tonelessly, not letting any emotion color his voice.
Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. "I see. Severus, I would imagine that I will need to find a temporary replacement for your position?"
Snape nodded and he turned to gaze out of the window, refusing to say anymore. Dumbledore turned to Harry, his voice and gaze a few notches softer. "Harry, I am asking that you keep silent about this. I'm sure Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger will doubtless have questions, but I beg you to tell them nothing of what you have witnessed tonight. I trust that you can return to Gryffindor Tower before curfew."
Harry nodded, barely believing that this was actually happening. Malfoy, obliviated? It was too much to think of with everything he had been through that night, and he stood up and left without asking any more questions.
Shock and confusion settled heavily in his mind, not allowing passage of his normal thoughts as he made his way back to his common room. When he climbed through the portrait, he saw Ron sitting by himself by the fire, frowning at nothing and seemingly lost in thought.
"Hi, Ron," Harry said, his voice still hoarse. "Have you and Hermione stopped fighting, then?" He smiled, but Harry knew the gesture didn't quite reach his eyes.
Ron shook his head. He looked miserable. "She's gone off to bed. At least she's not yelling anymore. Almost gave one of the First Years a heart attack."
Harry chuckled despite himself and made his way to the stairs leading towards his dormitory. "Don't beat yourself up too bad, yeah?"
Ron mumbled something unintelligible that Harry took as a goodbye. He wished that he could sit down and tell Ron everything that had happened, but out of respect for the Headmaster, he chose to stay silent. It was harder than he thought, and he was gnawing at his lip before he could even reach his four poster bed.
His mind was hard to quiet that night, and when he finally drifted to sleep, dreams of blank grey eyes plagued his dreams.