Rated T
(Disclaimer: don't own, never will, don't plan to. Just doing it for fun.)
HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP
Chapter 24: Broken Castle
Severus woke as his internal alarm alerted him that nearly ten and a half hours had elapsed since he set his potion to boil. He stood, blearily rubbing his eyes, and stumbled forward, meaning to call for coffee, and turn the sitting room lights on before heading back to the lab. But his hand, searching for his wand to spell the lights, came up empty, and Severus awoke completely as memory crashed down on him. The kidnapper. A Portkey. Black. Harry. Oh Merlin, Harry was trapped here with his insane godfather, freshly escaped from Azkaban, and he was here too, kidnapped and unarmed, a glorified doctor for the boy's silver poisoning. Severus sneered, a bad mood descending on him like a dark cloud. What an idiot that Black was, to be sure. It wasn't enough that the fool Gryffindor had lived with a Werewolf for half his life; no, he had to go and make a portkey out of silver and hand it to Harry. He glanced down at his wrist where the silver bracelet was still glinting. He absently pulled at it, but no amount of fiddling could get it off. He guessed it doubled as a shackle, likely preventing him from apparating or stepping outside the wards of … wherever they were.
Severus sighed and stretched his achy body, suddenly feeling like a prisoner. It was silly, since he would really rather be here with Harry than fretting at Hogwarts. But he had always chafed at feeling locked up.
He checked on the stew over the fire, glad that he hadn't put it over the hottest part of the flames, and had to add more water. He tasted it, and was glad to find that it was more than palatable. After a bit of a search, he found dishes in a cupboard under the counter against the wall. He poured a bit of the stew into a bowl to cool, being careful to put mostly broth, and cut a piece of bread from the loaf Black had somehow procured for the larder. He wondered how Black had managed to get groceries, but he realized that someone as skilled in Transfiguration as him would have found it easy to change his appearance a little. Anyway, he was grateful that there was a good supply of fresh food in the house, and he wondered if Black was that good of a cook. He obviously knew how to, since he had bought specific foods and things, but Severus was inclined to believe that Black did not understand the subtle science that was food preparation. Severus smirked, wondering if one day he could turn Potions class into a cooking class and see how many eyes fell out of goggling students' heads. It wasn't a bad idea, he mused. It was only because he was often forced to cook for his family as a small boy that he found the confidence to experiment with ingredients and flavours, and that led over to an avid fascination with Potion experimentation as well. Of course, it also helped that he was a natural at it. Cooking was easy for him, and Potions were similar enough that the ease carried over. He had an instinctual understanding of what things went well together and what didn't. If he had been a muggle, Severus mused, he might have made an excellent chef, since he would never have had the money to become a chemist or a pharmacist.
But silly daydreams aside, Severus put the pot back over the fire and looked around for Black. He was nowhere to be seen. Severus was not unduly worried. He still trusted that the Azkaban escapee wasn't interested in hurting either him or Harry right now. In fact, last night he had acted just like a jealous child who finds out that someone had been playing with their toy while they were away. That's what Black's hostility and immature baiting had been, Severus thought with a triumphant smirk. He was jealous. Of course he was. Harry trusted Snivellus more than his father's best friend. Wasn't that ironic? It would be more than enough to drive the impulsive Gryffindor mad with envy.
Satisfied that he now knew Black's state of mind probably better than the Gryffindor did, Severus picked up the bowl, a spoon, and the bread, and moved toward Harry's room. It was terribly early in the morning, but he had not meant to fall asleep and Harry needed to eat something. His chest ached with regret as he thought of the ticking clock and his lovely, expensive potion, going to waste because some crazy Black couldn't give him five seconds to secure the cauldron.
The bedroom was dark, and Severus wondered if he could risk calling for Black to give him a lumos or something. He moved by memory, but carefully, in case Black was doing something stupid like sleeping on the floor. He was almost to the desk when his foot did indeed strike something soft, but firm. A strange snort and growl greeted his intrusion, and despite Severus trusting that it was just Black, (not a werewolf or another dangerous monster) a cold sweat broke out on his neck and he instinctively stepped back, straining his eyes in the dark.
He heard a grunt and a sigh, rustling, and then a soft lumos illuminated the room. Black was holding his wand and sitting on the floor by Harry's bed, and the child was lying on his stomach, his bandaged hand dangling off the bed and his face turned toward them.
"It's what, four in the morning?" Black rasped, squinting up at him in annoyance.
"Harry needs to eat," Severus retorted.
"In the middle of the night?" the escaped convict growled. "Let him sleep, will you?"
Severus sighed, suppressing the urge to snarl. "We were not supposed to fall asleep so quickly. He ought to have been fed hours ago. The nutrient potion I gave him works much better if it is taken with food."
"Well, it's too late now," Black grunted, reaching up to rub his red eyes. "Put the stupid soup back and go back to sleep."
"Pr'fessor," Harry murmured suddenly, opening his eyes and blinking sleepily in the light.
"Are you hungry, Harry?" Severus asked, ignoring Black's indignant scowl.
"Sort of, I guess," the child sighed, looking content and relaxed. He yawned and stretched, bending his back like a cat before he sat up, smiling. Severus put the stew down on the desk and briefly checked Harry's condition. The boy's fever was still down, the spark was back in his eyes, and he seemed energetic. Well, that was quick, Severus mused.
"Would you like to eat it by yourself?" Severus asked once he was satisfied that Harry really was recovering.
The boy nodded eagerly, but before Snape could bring him the food, Harry crawled across the bed, hopped off, and sat down in the chair at the desk. He tucked into his food without further invitation, and looked remarkably calm and content. Severus was somewhat baffled, but he had long since learned to accept children's quick mood swings, especially Harry's, and he didn't comment. He sat on the edge of Harry's bed and watched him eat, wondering why Black was throwing him so many dark looks. If he had been eleven instead of twenty-seven, he would have stuck his tongue out at the annoying Gryffindor. Suck it up, he groused silently. Harry always wakes up in a good mood. And it was true. As long as he'd known the boy, he rarely woke up grouchy. Harry was always happy in the morning, unless he was in pain, but then he was just weepy.
"Are you going to take me back, Professor?" Harry suddenly asked, training nervous green eyes on him.
Severus frowned and glanced at Black, who was now scowling murderously and his wand-hand was twitching. "We shall see," the Potions Master replied carefully, dragging his gaze back to Harry. "For now, focus on getting better, and then we shall speak further."
Harry nodded and returned to his stew, still looking nervous.
"Why don't you tell me a story, Black, instead of trying to drill holes in me with your eyes," Severus snapped at the still scowling and twitching man seated on the floor. "For example: how did you manage to find Harry and convince him to come with you?"
"I rescued him," Black growled. "He didn't need convincing."
Severus glanced over at Harry, who had stopped eating and looked carefully blank. He wished he knew what was going on behind those expressive, gold-streaked eyes. "Harry?" Severus asked, forcing himself to sound calm. "Did he convince you to go with him?"
Harry wrinkled his nose and looked up at the Professor. "I'm not sure what that means," the boy replied candidly. "'Cause he was Snuffles first, but Uncle Vernon shot him. But that was after he chased the Wolf away. And then I thought he was you." The boy's face suddenly flickered with fear. "But then … Well, I asked him not to … to kill Uncle Vernon," he whispered the last part, and Severus threw Black a questioning look.
"Bastard was going to beat him," Black snarled, his blue eyes suddenly looking crazed. "Like hell was I going to let that monster lay another finger on my godson!"
"Language, Black, there's a child present," Severus snapped.
"Oh, it's okay," Harry chirped cheerfully as he licked his spoon. "Uncle Vernon says those things all the time."
The boy seemed oblivious to the twin looks of disgust Severus and Black exchanged, before they realized that they were actually agreeing on something and glared at each other instead.
"Well, anyway," Black grumbled. "I almost strangled that troll masquerading as his uncle, and then I couldn't just leave Harry there. So we packed up and left."
Severus scowled, but Black just glared back, unfazed by the disbelief in Snape's frown.
"You're going to be hunted down for kidnapping," Severus sneered. "In addition to your other crimes."
"What other crimes?" Black muttered, his eyes going unfocused and a weird fire seeming to glow behind them. "I didn't do anything. It was the rat. I escaped to find Harry and protect him, and that's what I'm going to do! I'll protect him, and I don't care from who, Snivellus!"
"You betrayed the Potters," Severus said coldly. "Even I never did that."
"No, you just ran right to your precious Dark Lord with the prophecy and made him target them instead! We wouldn't have even needed the Fidelius if it wasn't for you!"
"Potter trusted you! The same cannot be said for me! So whose crime then is worse?"
"Lily trusted you!" Black roared, lunging to his feet and pointing his wand at Severus' heart. "To the very last, she always said you'd come 'round, and you would come back, but you never did! You stabbed her in the back, Snivellus! But I guess that's all you Slytherins are good for, isn't it? You're a coward and a boot-licker and you've always been one!"
"Don't call me a coward!" Severus snarled, also getting to his feet.
"Well, don't call me a traitor!"
"I most certainly will call you a traitor, because that's what you bloody well are!"
"I WASN'T the secret-keeper!"
That shut the conversation up. For sheer surprise at the audacity of the claim, Severus simply stared at Black. Both men were breathing hard, almost nose-to-nose, and they had completely forgotten the presence of the frightened child in the room, watching their shouting match and wondering if it might be prudent to wait under the desk until the storm passed.
"Let Harry and I go," Severus suddenly demanded. "Go your way before Dumbledore finds out what you've done to his precious savior and dig your grave even deeper, you deluded madman."
"He likely already knows," Black sneered. "And if you think for one second I'll let you of all people take my godson who knows where, you have got another thing coming!"
"Oh right, because you would never presume to believe that Snivellus could actually care about the physical and emotional wellbeing of a child, I forgot," Severus spat furiously.
"I'm not stupid, Snape," Black snarled, jabbing his wand into Severus' chest for the second time that night. "You didn't make it a secret how much you hated James and the rest of us. You even hated Lily when all was said and done, so don't think for one minute that I believe your garbage about treating Harry like any other kid, 'cause we both know he isn't 'any other kid', and he never will be to either of us!"
"I saved his life while you were rotting in Azkaban," Severus hissed. "I put him back together after a Werewolf ravaged him and left him for dead. What did you do? You handed him a silver bracelet the minute you got an opportunity! I don't know, Black. Which of us sounds more like they care for children, hm?"
"It was an accident!" Black protested.
"I suppose letting the Potters' location slip was an 'accident' too, wasn't it?"
"I wasn't the damn secret-keeper!"
"You think I'm going to believe such a ridiculous story?"
"It was the rat! It was Peter, not me! When I find him, he'll wish he'd died with the muggles! He thinks he got away, but I'll find him, the traitor."
"Who, Pettigrew?" Severus almost wanted to laugh. "Who would trust Pettigrew with a Fidelius Charm?"
"Me, apparently," Black spat bitterly. "I suggested we switch, and we decided not to tell Dumbledore." He shook his head angrily. "Stupidest thing I ever did."
"I'll say," Severus snorted, amused at the madman's fantasies. "It is rather convenient that he's dead and we can't ask him for his version of the story."
"Weren't you listening to a word I said?" Black demanded, looking more demented by the second. "Pettigrew's not dead! He faked it! Framed me! Fooled us all! He pranked the whole wizarding world, the little bastard!"
"Hmm," Severus mused, arching an eyebrow at the man foaming at the mouth. "Well, when you find him, let me know. So far as I know, necromancery is still punishable by Azkaban."
"Argh!" the convict howled in frustration, and suddenly swung his fist. Severus wasn't expecting Black to resort to muggle brawling, and caught the blow on his cheek. He stumbled, but years ago, he had been forced to learn how to take a punch and stay standing. Instinct reared up, and as Severus straightened, he swung his own fist and caught Black under the chin in a glorious right hook. The blow wasn't as strong as it might have been, had Severus been at his full strength and angry, but his anger had faded as Black ranted like a madman. Now that Black had apparently forgotten his wand in favour of his fists, Severus felt like he had a chance. Sirius Black was raised as a pureblood, while Severus Snape had been raised as a muggle in a rough neighbourhood. Brawling was an art form that the children of drunkards and layabouts were expected to learn quickly. Although Severus Snape had made an effort to distance himself from his despicable muggle roots, he had not left behind the art of fist-fighting. Even tired as he was, Black stood no chance against Severus, and two more blows landed him crumpled in a corner. Severus picked up the wand off the floor and gritted his teeth against the unfriendly reaction. It was a wand that certainly wasn't compatible with him, but he had a strong enough will to force it to work for him.
"Somnium," he incanted, using one of the weaker sleeping curses to avoid straining his magical core. Black groaned before succumbing to slumber, and Severus snapped the wand over his knee, flinching at the burst of unhappy magic that burst forth.
He tossed the wand in the corner and turned around before he suddenly remembered that the child in the room had witnessed the whole thing. But Harry was nowhere to be seen.
HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP
Harry was terrified. It was bad enough when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia shouted and yelled at each other, and another thing entirely when kids at school did it. But watching two grown men yelling at one another and then hitting each other was simply terrifying. When the Professor and the Snuffles-man started in on each other, the boy ran from the room. He snatched his duffel bag on the way out, glad that it was by the door, and simply ran. Harry threw open the cabin door and raced out into the woods. It was cool and dark, and the moon had set by now. Harry felt better without the moon lighting everything up, and he ducked his head to avoid a low branch as he ran. Dew drops sprinkled his bare feet from the grass and his back throbbed as it scraped the underside of the branch he'd ducked. He still felt achy and feverish, but he felt loads better than he had earlier tonight. The Professor had come back to him, and it felt like a dream come true. He had been confused though, because the man who said he was his godfather had been nice enough, and the Professor had not seemed to like him. He didn't really understand what was going on there. Maybe the Snuffles-man really was the Sirius Black guy that was supposed to be after him to kill him, and maybe the Professor really was a 'slimy, greasy, back-stabbing git' (as he heard the Snuffle-man muttering once Harry remembered Professor Snape's name). He just didn't know anything anymore, except that he was scared inside that house, and when grown-ups were angry around him, he always got the worst end of it. He decided it would just be safer if he ran.
But the woods are a lonely place to be, especially at night, and once Harry paused to gasp for air, he realized that he had been running in his bare feet and they were throbbing. His bandaged hand was aching fiercely and he felt dizzy and sick. His clothing was damp and cold, and now he had no idea where he was. He could see pretty well, because of his freaky eyes, but nothing looked familiar. All the trees were the same. He was lost.
HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP
Severus Snape cursed out loud when he felt the cool night air coming through the cabin door. He needed to stop and look for his wand, and he needed to go after Harry, but for a second he was torn. He calmed down and realized that once he had his wand, as long as Harry hadn't gone too far, a simple 'point-me' spell would find the boy.
Severus went back into the room and searched Black's pockets, but he didn't have another wand on him. He wandered back out into the main room, dug through the cabinets, and turned up empty. Frustrated and hoping Black hadn't just thrown his wand in the fireplace, Severus gave up and headed to the door. It was nearly dawn and the air was a bit chilly and damp. He paused at the door and snatched Black's cloak off the coat rack. Throwing it over his shoulders, he stepped out into the woods and tried to figure out what direction Harry would have gone.
It was too dark to see anything clearly, and Severus didn't recognize this place. Not that he would, anyway. It was a nondescript area and they could be anywhere.
"Harry!" He shouted, hoping that maybe the boy was close by.
But seeing as how he had run out in a fright after witnessing two grown men brawling like schoolboys, it wouldn't surprise him if Harry stayed missing until morning. As a boy, Severus had spent his fair share of nights huddled in cupboards, or crouched in allies; anywhere he could escape his father's drunken fists and the dreaded belt. If Harry was smart, he would stay away what was left of the night. Severus sighed and walked the perimeter of the house, checking the woodshed, (moderately stocked with well-aged firewood) a small stream behind the house, and the rest of the surrounding trees, spreading out in a widening circle as he walked the perimeter, calling for the boy every now and then. He stopped and sat on a mossy log, feeling miserable and angry for several reasons, none of them reasonable. He clawed uselessly at the stupid bracelet on his wrist, and then gripped his flower necklace instead and rubbed it, hoping that maybe Harry was still wearing his. But after he stopped and waited for a reply, his flower stayed dark and cold. He huffed and dropped it back on his breast, not bothering to stuff it back into his shirt.
He waited on the log, fretting and fuming by turns until the flush of dawn gave him more light, and then he got up and wandered back toward the house. Harry had not returned, Black was still snoring in his corner, and the fire had nearly burned out. His stomach cramped hungrily when he spotted the pot of soup still hanging over the fire, but he didn't think he could stomach anything with Harry missing. He blamed himself, really. If he had stopped baiting Black, they wouldn't have gotten into a fight and scared Harry off. Unless the boy ran off when they first started shouting at each other. Then Severus didn't really know who to blame. Black started it by glaring at him, but Snape was the one who started talking. It didn't matter, he supposed. He and Black had been acting immature, and Harry made a run for it, and he probably would have done exactly the same thing in the boy's place. Harry would probably be fine, and might even find his way back. A Werewolf's sense of smell was surely enough to guide him back here.
But he was uneasy. Who knew what dangers this area held? If it was a magical wood, the chances of meeting a dangerous magical creature were somewhat substantial. Even if it were a completely normal forest, that would mean that a muggle town was nearby. If a police officer picked Harry up, that would mean even more hassle. Severus grabbed his bag of potions from the bedroom, sneered at the snoring fugitive in the corner, and shut the door. He instinctively patted the cloak's pockets for the potions he always carried before he remembered that this wasn't his cloak. For one thing, it smelled like a wet dog. But there was something long and hard tucked into the right hand pocket, and Severus smiled in relief as he drew out his familiar black wand. The ebony stick of smooth wood with its dragon tongue core almost seemed to hum happily as he returned it to its rightful place in his wrist sheath.
Feeling more himself, Severus decisively closed the cabin door behind him and marched out into the forest.
HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP
Harry stumbled out of the trees at last and gaped at what he saw. The sun was pretty high up by now, and he was tired and hungry. He was thirsty too, but that went without saying. He'd been thirsty since he ran from the house. The Professor didn't give him water with his stew. It had been really good, but there wasn't nearly enough of it and Harry hadn't even finished the bread.
Meadows stretched out almost as far as he could see. Flowers danced in the morning breeze and bees were already hard at work. There was a straight line of dead trees far on the left that seemed to go on and on until it disappeared behind a hill. Most of the trees were blackened from fire or bleached white from the sun, and they leaned at crazy angles like they had been caught in an explosion or something. But what caught his eye at once was the ruin rising high above the waving grass and the long lane of twisted trees. It was a big house, but the skeletal roof was almost all gone, the brick walls were blackened, the windows were wide, gaping mouths of darkness, and the twisted, charred skeletons of trees surrounded it. Harry shivered at the sight. It was a haunted house if he'd ever seen one.
Slowly, Harry walked through the grass, wincing when his tender feet stumbled over a stone or twig to got poked by old, dead grass from years before. It seemed to take forever, but when he finally reached the burned house, he was amazed at how big it was. He wondered if it was a castle once, but he wasn't sure. It looked sort of like a fancy, old-fashioned house, but it had two towers built on either side, like a castle.
Harry limped up to the front door, his bare feet slapping softly on a cobblestone lane that led through the dead twisted trees. Weeds grew between the stones, but it was nicer to walk on the cool, flat rocks than in the meadow. His feet throbbed and ached and he wished he had stopped to grab his shoes when he ran. Snuffles must have taken his shoes off while he was sleeping, because he didn't remember untying them and putting them anywhere.
The house had once had a wide courtyard thing right in front, but weeds grew from the cracks in the stone pavement, and a broken fountain was full of growing things. The lower part of the house was almost completely covered in trailing vines, most of which had flowers, and the flowerbeds that had once surrounded the house had overgrown and were spilling everywhere. Harry noticed a lot of roses, but there was another flower with pointed, curling petals and long straight stems that was scattered among the roses and honeysuckles. Some were white, and some had pink streaks, and some were orange with black speckles. Harry bent down near a white one and breathed in its sweet scent. The shape of the flower reminded him of the necklace the Professor had given him. His chest ached suddenly at the thought of his Professor and he wondered if he was going to be in big trouble for running away and getting lost.
Harry wandered toward the front door, a big gaping hole in the side of the house. There was no door and the glass in the nearby windows was completely gone. He wondered what had happened here. It looked like there had been a fire, but what had caused all the gaping holes in the brick walls? Hesitantly, the boy stepped inside, his eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom, and he carefully tip-toed further in. The floor was smooth stone of some sort, streaked through with designs like a seashell. Old glass, dirt, and cobwebs covered everything, especially the floor, and Harry was careful not to step on the broken glass. A shattered chandelier lay right in the middle of the big entrance hall, and more glass was scattered everywhere around it. The walls were scorched and the house smelled like musty earth and old smoke. This house was simply so very sad and lonely that Harry felt tears burning his eyes. If he had been in a more cheerful mood, he might have gotten exited at the thought of exploring an old ruin. But he was tired and hungry and thirsty and lost, and he wished he had never run away from the cabin in the woods. But this place was as good shelter as anything for now, he thought. He needed somewhere to rest, and he was a little curious about this place. Who used to live here? Where were they now? What happened to destroy the house so badly?
He tip-toed his way around the edge of the big hall, noticing the humungous fireplace against one wall. Some kind of explosion had shattered most of the stone mantelpiece, but he could tell it had been magnificent once upon a time. A carving on the wall above the mantelpiece had been blackened by fire and Harry couldn't make it out. Was it some sort of animal?
There was a gaping hole in the wall near the fireplace, and through it he could see another room. Its windows were covered in vines, so he couldn't see much besides lumpy shapes of rubble, or maybe furniture. A corridor stretched away in another direction, and a shattered statue lay across it as if guarding the entrance. Everywhere, the walls were scorched, shattered, or otherwise damaged. Even the floor was cracked. A rug was torn and rotting under the broken chandelier and some sort of tapestry was hanging in burnt tatters on the wall behind it.
Harry reached the foot of a huge, curving staircase at the far end of the huge room. Half of the stairs were gone, simply blown to bits probably, judging from the rubble on the ground. The rest of the staircase hung from the next floor, dangling in space like a stairway from heaven. Gingerly, Harry swept the bottom two steps clean of dirt and bits of rubble, and he put his duffel bag down before he sat. For a long time, he just stayed there, looking around the once grand house, hugging his bag to his chest in the chilly gloom of the dark entrance hall, and wondering about it all. The windows were mostly covered with vines or rubble, so the light filtering in was greenish and weak. He heard the squeak and scuffle of rodents, the cooing of pigeons, and other noises from the animals that now called this old ruin home.
Harry set his bag beside him, leaned over and lay down on his side, using the duffel as a pillow and being careful not to bump his aching, burned hand. It was still bandaged, but the bandages were dirty and shabby now, at least on the outside. He hoped it was still clean on the inside or the Professor might get mad at him. His body felt tired and achy and his head was throbbing mercilessly. Harry lay still and tried to relax, listening to the birds singing outside, the breeze rustling the vines and overgrown plants in the garden, and the noises of the rodents and pigeons echoing in the peaceful ruin. His eyes slowly closed, and he fell asleep.
HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP
Minerva McGonegall stepped from the floo into Albus Dumbeldore's office and brushed the soot from her casual dark orange robes. She glanced around the office, noting that she was alone with the Headmaster and despite the kindly twinkle in his eyes, he looked worried and worn down. His message to her early this morning had been vague, but worrisome. The past month had been a whirlwind of change, from Harry's attack to Black's escape, and she had a bad feeling that more bad news awaited her. She nodded politely to the Headmaster as he looked up from his desk and greeted her with a smile.
"Minerva! Thank you for coming on such short notice. I'm terribly sorry to be disturbing your holiday, but with things as they are …"
"Of course, Albus," the Scotswoman nodded briskly. "Now what is this about? You mentioned Severus and Harry, was it?"
"Yes, I'm afraid we have a bit of a situation," the Headmaster sighed, his former smile gone and replaced by a worried frown. "Why don't you sit. Tea?"
"Don't mind if I do." Professor McGonegall sat down in the offered chair and accepted the teacup Albus handed her. "How is Harry, Albus?" she asked. "His first Full Moon was a couple of nights ago, was it not? Was Severus able to contact Remus?"
"Hmm, yes," the Headmaster mused, his face twisting into a mournful expression. "Harry first Full Moon was … rough, I suppose. Lupin was not able to come, and Severus was … occupied. But the reason I asked you here is that Severus has gone missing … and so has Harry."
Minerva stayed quiet for several seconds, staring at her old friend and colleague. "I trust you have checked in several places already," she commented at last.
"Severus disappeared sometime around midnight last night and he left a rather expensive potion brewing. He still has not returned, and I was forced to put the cauldron under stasis once it became apparent he wasn't returning anytime soon."
"And Harry?"
"He vanished from his home the night after the last Full Moon," Albus replied sadly. "Severus got himself arrested by the DMLE and Harry had to be placed with his relatives for the time. Petunia thought Harry used accidental magic and ran away, but I reviewed her husband's most recent memory, and he was attacked by a kidnapper who then took Harry away."
"Wait, wait, wait!" Minerva interrupted, scowling fiercely at the old man. "You sent Harry back to his relatives?! As in, the Dursleys? The ones who've mistreated and abused that child since the night we left him there? What were you thinking?!"
Albus sighed wearily and leaned back in his chair. "Minerva," he said tiredly. "There was nowhere else for Harry to go once Severus was arrested. With Sirius Black on the loose, Harry had to return to his Aunt for the Blood Wards. I had a talk with them, Minerva. Nothing untoward happened that I am aware of. The main issue is that Harry was kidnapped from his home. The lock of the back door was picked quite expertly and there was no sign of any magic or a magical presence. I am simply at a loss."
"Severus didn't take Harry?" Minerva asked curiously. This was certainly a puzzle. While she didn't think Severus the type to pick locks the muggle way if he had magic, she didn't put any skill past him. He was a clever and secretive young man, and if he knew how to pick locks, he certainly wouldn't tell her about it.
"No, I don't believe so," Albus said slowly. "Severus simply seemed to assume Harry was – and is – still with his relatives. I detected nothing in his manner or behavior that would indicate he had taken Harry back into his home. In fact, I had not yet told him that Harry had disappeared. I am at a loss. Severus' disappearance raises more questions than ever. I am wondering if you could use your Animagus form to find out if the local cats at Privet Drive saw anything in particular. Harry is our top priority."
"There's a clue here somewhere," Minerva muttered, but she agreed that interviewing the local cats would be a good idea. They might not actually remember anything from as far back as two nights ago, but with Mrs. Figg letting her breeding stock wander around, some of the cats might be part kneazle and intelligent enough to hold a conversation. Cats had a simple language, and Minerva spoke it rather well. Simply being a cat did not mean that she automatically knew all of the mannerisms and language of a cat. Years of study, and plenty of cats of her own, enabled her to communicate with the feline world, and this skill allowed her to be able to speak to cat witnesses when Albus needed investigative work done.
"What about asking Remus to simply track Harry down?" Minerva suggested, stirring her tea.
"I'm afraid he is indisposed at the moment," Albus said carefully.
Minerva made a face and glared at the old man. "There's plenty you aren't telling me, you old coot," she accused. "Why not say it now and get it out, eh?"
Albus sighed and stroked his beard pensively. "Well … let us just say Severus is a tad upset with me right now. I plan to have a talk with him … help him to understand. But with him missing, I am not certain what to think."
"He left a potion unattended," Minerva pointed out. "That is rather unlike him. Do you suppose he went home to check on something and got held up?"
"I checked Spinner's End," Dumbledore replied. "That was the first place I went. Petunia hasn't seen Severus either. I must say, Mrs. Dursley is starting to become irritated with my presence."
"You needn't sound so hurt, Albus," Minerva chuckled, taking a sip of her tea. "So, is Severus upset you put Harry back with those abominable muggles?"
"Minerva, you know I had my reasons for leaving Harry with his maternal Aunt," Albus said firmly. "While I grieve that I did not keep as close an eye on him as I should have, but I will correct that oversight. Harry needs the protection of his Aunt's blood so long as Black is on the loose."
"Are you saying you won't let Severus take Harry back until Black gets caught?" Minerva demanded, aghast. "But Harry was so happy there! And Severus was doing so well, far beyond my expectations, you know."
"Severus will not be able to be a guardian for the boy, Minerva; the Ministry would never allow it."
"Well, Augusta then," Minerva huffed. "Or Molly would take the boy in a heartbeat. You can't send him back to those muggles, Albus! You're lucky nothing happened in just a few days. That boy isn't going back there. I won't allow it."
"We will discuss it later then," the Headmaster replied with a hint of impatience. "But we need to find Harry. It is imperative that Black does not find him first."
"Indeed," Minerva shuddered. She set down her cup. "I will go now. Hopefully the sooner I catch those cats, the better."
"Thank you, Minerva," Albus beamed. He gestured to his fireplace. "Arabella gave us permission to use her floo as much as we need in our investigation."
"Why thank you," Minerva smiled ruefully. "But I think I could use the exercise. I'll just leave via the grounds and disapperate there. But I may catch the floo back, especially if I find out anything important."
"Very well," the Headmaster chuckled. "Again, thank you, my dear old friend. I don't know what I would do without you."
"Flattering old fraud," Minerva scolded fondly. "I'll be back in a few hours. Meantime, try to send an owl to Severus. At any rate, if you put a tracing charm on the bird you'll have a general idea where he is, even if there are wards around him."
"A very good idea, Minerva," Albus nodded. "I'll do that. Good luck."
Minerva nodded and left the office. Her smile disappeared the minute the door was shut and she scowled as she marched down the slowly spinning staircase. She was no master of mind magics, but she could have sworn that she felt the old man using subtle spells to soothe her ruffled fur and calm her down even before he brought up Harry being back with the Dursleys. She had even distinctly felt him prodding her mind for specific memories, without her permission. Albus had certainly never done such a thing before in her memory and it almost frightened her. They had worked together for years with mutual trust. Something was very wrong here. She had sensed remarkable strain and tension in Albus Dumbledore's false smiles and assurances, and it was extremely worrisome.
She was not planning to go directly to Privet Drive. After all, a few more minutes would not change anything. No, she needed to find Remus Lupin and ask him if he knew anything. Dumbledore had been subtly encouraging her to forget Remus after she asked about him, and his being indisposed told her that he was likely in the Hospital wing.
The crisp white Infirmary was seemingly empty, except for Madam Pomfrey bustling around, fluffing pillows, snapping blankets, and dusting. Minerva recognized it as busywork. The woman was either agitated or worried, and neither of those boded well.
"Poppy!" Minerva called softly.
The medi-witch spun at her voice and her round face crumpled in something like relief. "Minnie, dear," Madam Pomfrey sighed. "What can I do for you?"
"Is Mr. Lupin currently in?" Minerva asked casually, as she might have when the Werewolf was a young Gryffindor.
"Yes, he is, but don't let him overexert himself, if you please," Poppy replied immediately. But that worried pinch never left her face.
"What is it, Poppy?" Minerva asked carefully, hoping that the meddling old Headmaster hadn't put monitoring charms on the Infirmary. "You're agitated about something, I can tell. Has it got anything to do with our prestigious Headmaster?"
"It has everything to do with that meddling old … idiot!" Poppy hissed, her voice going shrill at the end. "Do you know, Dumbledore sent Harry back to those muggles a couple weeks ago! I didn't know that! Severus promised me he'd keep Harry safe, and then he goes and gets arrested, and nobody informed me about that. I'd have taken Harry home myself if I'd known!"
"How bad was it, Poppy?" Minerva demanded grimly. By Merlin, Morgana, and all the ancient sorcerers, she was going to kill that old man!
"Hard to tell," the medi-witch said gravely. "I saw Harry directly after the Full Moon so I can't really say what damage was from the transformation or the muggles. I assumed Dumbledore was just taking Harry down to the dungeons, or even to Severus' house … but I suppose I should have asked. Or offered to take him myself."
"This isn't your fault, Poppy," Minerva said sternly. "Now, do you know if Remus knows any of this?"
"Hard to say, really," Madam Pomfrey sighed, glancing over at the one bed with curtains drawn around it. "He and Severus got into a spat and Remus got the worst of it. Still, I suppose there are no hard feelings. Severus brewed some extremely good ointment for the burns and the recovery is coming along nicely."
"Burns?" Minerva echoed.
"I've never seen the like," Madam Pomfrey shook her head in frustration. "The best I can say is that Severus lost control of his magic and just lashed out, much like an Obscurus would. Mr. Lupin was covered in magical burns, but it wasn't any spell I've ever seen. It was simply wordless, elemental magic and it almost killed both of them."
Minerva gasped in horror. She couldn't formulate a reply to something like that, so she simply glanced worriedly at the curtained bed.
"You can go see him," Poppy assured her. "Werewolves heal quickly, after all; especially from magical injuries. He woke this morning and ate a bit. Severus' potions are helping a great deal as well."
Minerva followed the medi-witch to the bed and braced herself. But when the curtain was pushed aside, Remus didn't look as bad as she had been expecting. He was ghostly pale and weak looking, but the burns that weren't covered by bandages were healing very well. The skin under the shiny ointment was pink and peeling. He was sound asleep and didn't appear to be in much pain, as his expression was peaceful and relaxed.
"When did this happen?" Minerva asked quietly.
"Day before yesterday," Poppy replied just as softly. "He was directly exposed to raw dark magic for approximately three minutes, give or take. They're both lucky I was in that day. Severus almost completely drained himself."
"Silly boy," Minerva sighed.
What in the world could have been so dreadful that it would make Severus turn into a whirlwind of vengeful magic like that? For his loss of control to be compared to an Obscurus was a very serious thing indeed. Mentally unstable magicals occasionally lost control in extremely dangerous, violent ways. With a powerful individual, they could be completely consumed by their own magic and become an Obscurus. With the wizard essentially dead, the magical whirlwind would simply destroy until it ran out of power, but they were capable of draining power out of others, which made them so feared. Luckily, Poppy caught Severus before he could exhaust his life-force.
Remus stirred on the bed and his face creased with a frown. "Poppy?" he whispered before he opened his eyes. Minerva nodded kindly at him when he spotted her and did a double-take. "Professor McGonegall?" the Werewolf said with some surprise. His voice was weak and hoarse, but his eyes were bright and alert.
"Remus, I'm afraid that I must ask you some questions," Minerva informed him, a bit apologetically. "Do you feel up to that?"
"Of course," Remus nodded, looking more awake.
"Have you seen Harry Potter recently?"
A look of pain passed over the Werewolf's face. "Y-yes," he whispered faintly. "I … I visited him about ten … no, twelve days ago." He paused, obviously steeling himself. "I also saw him on the prior Full Moon. Well … my wolf saw him."
Minerva stared at the man for several minutes before she trusted herself to speak. "I see," she said in a brittle tone. "How did Severus find out? I trust that is why he attempted to kill you with his magical core?"
Remus visibly swallowed and his gold-flecked eyes filled with tears. "I … I told Severus," He whispered. "I figured … I guess I deserved what I got."
"You wanted him to kill you?" Minerva scowled in disbelief.
"I suppose so," Remus said softly. He shut his eyes in shame and tears trickled out from under the closed lids.
"Well … I don't know what to say to you, Remus," Minerva gritted out between clenched teeth. "I'm quite certain you understand how very irresponsible you were and the magnitude of what you've done to an innocent child, so I see no use in lecturing you. After all, you were always one of those rare people skilled in self-flagellation."
Remus opened his eyes and the look on his face told Minerva that he was wondering whether her last comment was sarcasm or not. She decided to let him wonder.
"But do you have any true idea what you have done?" the Deputy Headmistress demanded. "Harry is a Werewolf. He will be one for the rest of his life. Severus has risked much to take care of him … and now they are both missing."
"What?" Remus demanded, his eyes going wide in alarm. "Missing?"
"Harry disappeared the night after the Full Moon. Where were you?"
"At home!" Remus answered hastily. "I came to Hogwarts in the morning and that's when … well, Severus and I … Well, you know."
"Albus didn't say anything to you?"
"I didn't know Harry had gone missing," Remus replied, apparently honestly. "Severus said he had to talk to Dumbledore … or maybe he didn't say, but we were headed to the Headmaster's office. I'm not sure if he knew or not."
"Dumbledore doesn't have the impression that Severus knew," Minerva replied. "But Severus disappeared last night, around midnight. He left a potion brewing and hasn't returned to care for it, which isn't like him at all."
"I haven't seen him since the … well, the fight," Remus rasped. "I don't know what to call it, because I didn't fight back. I couldn't. He just … exploded."
"Exploded is a good word," Poppy suddenly interjected. "Now I think that's enough for my patient, Minerva. I trust that was all you needed to know?"
"One more question," Minerva demanded. She bent lower, gazing directly into her former student's eyes, forcing him to meet her gaze directly. "You know what you did. You know your mistake. Harry is hurt and sick because of your foolishness … So what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know," Remus whispered faintly, quailing under her intimidating gaze.
"Hmm," Minerva murmured, arching an eyebrow at him. "You'd best start thinking, then. Because I am under the impression that Dumbledore will keep you out of Azkaban, and I doubt Severus will attempt to imitate an Obscurus again. But it is time you pulled your head out of your arse and acted like a Gryffindor for once!" She straightened up and gave him a severe nod. "I fully expect you to have some idea of what you are going to do about Harry by the time we find him."
"I think I know where he is," Remus suddenly interrupted, attempting to sit up. "And … I don't think he's in danger."
"Oh?"
Remus stopped trying to sit up when Madam Pomfrey clucked at him and pressed him back down. He huffed in annoyance at her, and trained his gold-flecked eyes to Professor McGonegall. "I know Sirius escaped," he whispered hoarsely. "But … I don't think he was ever as guilty as we all assumed. I don't think he would ever hurt Harry. He's … Sirius is Harry's godfather, you know. He never took those kinds of oaths lightly."
Minerva raised her eyebrows as high as they would go.
"I mean …" Remus appeared to be grasping for words. "When I went to … visit, Harry a week ago … well … Sirius was there. He chased me off for hurting Harry, and he likely would have done some … damage … if I hadn't run." He suddenly kicked his blankets aside and revealed his right leg. There were a couple of deep gashes just above his ankle, in the latter stages of healing. Poppy threw him an odd look and Minerva frowned, wondering what he meant by that. She wasn't sure what to think if Black was able to get to Harry despite the Blood Wards and was protecting the child from others as well. If Black had been able to reach Privet Drive and approach the child even with the protections in place, then Albus' argument for Harry staying with the Dursleys was moot.
"Remus, are you saying that you knew where Black was this whole time?" Minerva demanded.
"What? No," Remus cringed. "Well … I mean, I saw Sirius … but it was just a shock to see him there … taking care of Harry. Those muggles he lives with aren't … nice."
"Indeed not," the Transfiguration Professor sniffed. "I told Albus they are the worst sort of people."
"I'm not sure why Dumbledore put him there," Remus admitted. "Even … Well, even Snape seemed worried. I never thought he'd care about a Potter, but Harry is Lily's son too, so …"
"Severus grew rather attached to the boy after picking him up out of the street," Minerva mercilessly informed him. "If he had not been in the area that night, Harry surely would have bled to death."
Remus flinched and his eyes filled with tears, but Minerva felt no pity for him. She was beyond angry with him, but as she had said before, he would do well enough lecturing himself on his wrongdoing. His biggest problem would be doing something about it. He tended to mope and hide rather than doing anything productive.
"So what can you tell us?" Minerva asked once the Werewolf's silence became uncomfortable. "You think Black took Harry?"
"Rescued him," Remus corrected. "I'm not sure where … but check any place Sirius ever called home."
"We'll do that," Minerva said grimly. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Lupin. I'll leave you to rest now."
She turned and left the Infirmary, glad that she no longer had to interview cats. No, she had a trip to the Ministry to make, to find out where the Black home was located. Dumbledore would find out eventually that she hadn't gone to Privet Drive, but she felt no reason to tell him anything right now. What Albus didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP~HP
Another chapter up for you all. Did you know that this chapter is exactly 8,888 words long? I thought that was weird when I noticed that. Don't think it means anything, but I thought one or two of you might enjoy that odd bit of trivia.
I am enjoying bringing in the characters to rally against Dumbledore. Even Minerva's getting in on the fun!
Patience, patience. In the next chapter, Severus and Harry will stumble upon yet another plot thread and I'm tweaking it so it's just right.
As always, thank you all for your magnificent support of this fic. I never imagined it would do so well!
Oh, by the way, for those of you who didn't know, I've started another HP fic, but this is a crossover with The Avengers, featuring our very own Half-Blood Prince. So whoever likes the idea of Severus Snape duking it out with Loki and Thanos, go check it out on my author page! It's called Avenge, sorry that's not a more creative title.