Severus Snape put down the essay he had been marking and pinched the bridge of his nose.

It had been a long and trying morning, and he had missed lunch in order to catch up on the backlog of assignments that required his scathing comments in red ink.

He was just about to move on to the next one when the door of his office flew open, revealing a breathless Pomona Sprout.

"Oh, Severus," she wheezed, stooping forward slightly as if to catch her breath.

Snape just watched, completely taken aback by the entrance.

"You better come quickly. It's Harry," she told him.

The potion master's blood ran cold and he stood up.

"What is it?" he asked, a thousand different scenarios running through his head. Was the boy sick? Injured?

"I only left him for twenty minutes, thirty at most…" Pomona told him, frantically. "There was an emergency at the greenhouse… the mandrakes… would have lost the whole batch if I didn't… He's missing, Severus. Harry is missing!"

oOoOoOo

With the help of the other staff and the ghosts, the whole castle and its grounds were searched, long into the afternoon.

Eventually, they gathered outside Dumbledore's office, to discuss their next steps.

"Surely he can't have gone far," Minerva said, concerned. "The weather is far too poor for him to have left the castle…"

"Clearly he has," Severus replied, his mind frantic with worry. "The 'point me' spells are not working. We have searched this whole castle, he is gone!"

"I just don't understand it," Pomona murmured, anxiously. "He was fine when I left the library… I don't understand it…"

"These things can happen when you leave a six year old unattended," he snapped. "I trusted you to take care of him, you stupid woman! If anything has happened to him–"

"Come now, Severus. I hardly think apportioning blame is going to help us find little Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice irritatingly calm.

"Then what will? The temperatures are sub-zero out there and the snow is four inches deep. It will be dark in another hour! Anything could have happened to him!" Severus cried, wondering if he was the only one who felt so desperate.

"We do not have any evidence to suggest Harry is outside…" Dumbledore pointed out.

"Then where is he?"

Minerva opened her mouth to respond, but winced as an apparition passed through her.

It was Nearly Headless Nick.

"Headmaster," he began.

"Good evening, Sir Nicholas. Do you bring news?" Dumbledore asked.

"None of the boy's current whereabouts, I'm afraid. However, you may wish to locate Peeves. According to Myrtle, he accosted our young Harry earlier today in the boy's lavatory. You won't be surprised to hear that he was not very kind," Nick told them.

Cursing, Severus Snape turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of the stairwell.

There was no sign of Peeves, of course, but that didn't matter.

When he finally reached the abandoned girl's bathrooms, he began moving from stall to stall, flinging open the doors, until he eventually found the maudlin ghost, in the final one.

Myrtle let out a shriek of indignation.

"How DARE you! These are the girl's bathrooms!"

"How positively hypocritical of you. Were you yourself not in the boy's bathrooms earlier on today?" Snape shot back.

"That's different. I'm DEAD! In case you hadn't noticed!" Myrtle cried, letting out a wail.

"Stop your incessant noise and listen to me. You were party to a conversation this morning between my… between Harry and Peeves, were you not?" he demanded. "I need to know what Peeves said to him."

Myrtle huffed. "He was very rude. Just like you."

"My dear girl," Dumbledore began, stepping up from behind the potions master. "Earlier today, little Harry Potter disappeared. It's imperative we find him, and it would therefore help us a great deal if you were able to tell us what you know."

Considering him for a moment, Myrtle floated out of the stall and up onto the ledge of the large round window, on which she often liked to sit.

"I was just sitting in a U-bend, minding my own business, and Harry was washing his hands, when that horrible little man popped out of no where and started bothering him," she said.

"What did he say?" Snape asked.

Myrtle fixed him with a stare, before pointing an accusing finger in his direction.

"He said that you didn't want him anymore! That you were too busy with that other boy!"

"What 'other boy'?" he frowned, perplexed.

"The prefect. The one taking the extra potions classes," Myrtle clarified. "Peeves said you didn't want a little boy anymore, and that you preferred a big boy instead. He told Harry you were sending him back to the muggles. And so Harry ran away, out of the castle. What a horrible, ghastly thing of you to do!"

With that, she let out another, blood-curdling shriek and plunged herself into the nearest toilet bowl, disappearing from view.

Snape watched after her for a moment in horror, as it began to dawn on him.

Harry wasn't looking up to Dean Fletcher at all – he felt threatened by him! The boy had some how gotten it into his head that his father wanted to replace him with an older model, which explained the sudden desire to grow up overnight.

"That's why he didn't want milk in his tea…" he muttered, aloud.

"What was that?" Dumbledore asked, mildly.

Snapping out of it, Snape turned to look at him.

"We have to find him."

"I agree. But alas, I believe we have exhausted our search of the castle," Dumbledore sighed.

At that very moment, Moaning Myrtle re-emerged from the toilet bowl.

"Haven't tried Hagrid's, have you? But then again, what would I know? I'm just ugly, moping old Myrtle!" she sobbed.

Casting another glance at the headmaster, Snape took off again.

oOoOoOo