CHAPTER 15: SNAPELOCK HOLMES


Dumbledore sat on his chair, the office seeming to blur around him as his heart pounded with this new revelation that Snape had brought. Reaching out with a shaking hand, he reached for a lemon drop and popped it in his mouth. Sucking on it for a long few minutes, he turned to the young man, swallowed, had a bit of a need to clear his throat, understandable with sweets, decided to have a sip of water anyhow and finally asked him in a steady voice, "Are you sure...sure that he was a Death Eater?"

"Of bloody course, Albus!" Snape suddenly exploded, his calm, collected exterior dropping, just for a brief few seconds. Then he seemed to compose himself and turned to face the Headmaster. "It was Schizophrenix. I'd never forget his face. He was the butt of the joke at nearly all our...parties. A Death Eater of the lowest rung, but a Death Eater nonetheless. And an unmitigated nutcase."

"Don't you mean special child, Severus?"

The look Snape sent Dumbledore was positively murderous. "How that nincompoop managed to get his hands on Potter is a mystery! I've subtly questioned Hagrid, but he's a dead end. I even managed to get Malfoy to reminisce about our fledgling Death Eater days by acting like an utter fool, and somehow managed to steer the conversation the Schizophrenix way, but he's not heard from the man in years. And what baffles me the most is, where is Harry Potter?"

"If, " he went on, "the Death Eaters got a hold of him, they'd probably display his body at the Ministry of Magic or something to make a fashion statement. But he's disappeared. The doll was fine until then, but since then, it just seems...undecided. Unsure. It still tries to go places, but...it just shambles. The only thing of his I managed to get from there were these" and he threw the glasses down on the table.

Dumbledore picked up the broken glasses and stared at them. Then, seeming to diminish a little, he sighed and set them down. "Well, Severus, all we can do is persevere and hope for the best. Let us bend all our efforts to finding young Harry."

"Am I allowed to break the law?"

"Provided you don't get caught doing it."


The past few days had seen Snape take a brief break from being Potions master for Hogwarts and take up the mantle of Detective Snape, lost Potters found. Starting from the neighbourhood in which he'd found Potter, he cast the same spell that Dumbledore had used at the Dursley's. But the results were too mucked up by then to make head or tail of it. Going by the assumption that Potter was still alive, he'd either been taken somewhere else or going by the death eater, pulled another Halloween of 1981, and walked out.

He'd then proceeded to do some surface legilimency on nearly everyone in the neighbourhood. Most of them were so filled up with crack or weed or alcohol or you name it that he didn't find anything coherent. A more thorough mind rape might have achieved results, but he wasn't feeling the need to visit Azkaban anytime soon. And so he'd wandered around for a few days, achieving nothing beyond nearly getting mugged a few times, making eye contact with the inhabitants was getting to be a dangerous exercise and developing a healthy aversion for the place when he stumbled upon a conversation between two passing cops.

"Isn't this the place where we picked up that kid, Goody?"

"You mean the one who fainted at the sight of you or the one who tried to grab your ass?"

"The little one"

"The ass grabber?"

"The fainter, Goody! Scrawny kid with black hair!"

"Oh, him."

Snape could barely believe his luck. And he hadn't even had to resort to legilimency. Well, not yet anyway. He manoeuvred himself into a position where he could get a bit of eye contact and was rewarded with a brief vision of a thin boy in baggy clothes collapsing. He couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but the chances were high that this had been Harry Potter.

What to do now? Abduction and legilimency? No, that was the death eater talking. Looking around to make sure he wasn't about to be hauled to Azkaban for attacking a muggle, he raised his wand beneath his cloak and was about to cast a non-verbal confundus, when the woman's eyes widened. She weaved and socked him with a blow to the jaw that left him seeing stars.

He felt rough hands wrench his arms into a rather uncomfortable position and twist forcing him to drop his wand.

"Be careful Goody, he's got a gun!"

Oh, this day was fast becoming a joy.


Constable Habib fidgeted as the pale man she and Goody had just restrained and searched gave them a death glare. They'd been able to find nothing more than a pointy stick. Which must have been what they'd mistaken for a gun, underneath that silly cloak he was wearing. Inspector Fowler was going to chew them apart if this made it to him.

She cleared her throat, feeling her face flush at what she was going to have to do "I'm really sorry, sir. It's just that you were standing there and giving me the eye and all of a sudden you were pointing something at me from underneath that...cloak. We thought it was a gun." The man just stood there and stared. "We're really sorry, Mister..." "Potter," he replied. " As I was saying, we're really sorry. It's just that this is a bit of a seedy neighbourhood and we're all jumpy. And we'd be really glad if you would just let this go."

"So let me get this straight," the man, Mr. Potter, began in a soft voice, "You, a couple of police officers, assaulted me in broad daylight, with no reason whatsoever, and you want me to," and here he sneered, "just let this go?"

Habib gave a hopeful nod.

The man looked thoughtful. "Well," he shrugged, "I'm a busy man, so I don't exactly have the time to go to court and crucify you two fools." Habib let out an imperceptible sigh of relief. "But what you were talking about interests me. My sister and her boy live hereabouts and the boy's been missing a couple of days. He looks pretty much like you described him. You wouldn't happen to know where the healers took him, would you?"

"Healers?"

"Emergency doctors?"

"Oh, you mean the EMTs! Well, they were taking him to Trust Hospital. But the police would have told you that had you filed a missing person's report."

The man just glared at them. "Well, my sister's none too trusting of the police, and looking at you two I can understand why." he replied curtly, "Well, I'll be on my way then." And as he turned, he gave a little flick of that stick and suddenly Habib felt very confused. Why was she standing here in the middle of the street talking with this fellow? Matter of fact, why was she standing here at all?

She turned to figure out what was going on here when Goody sidled up to her.

"Striking resemblance there," he said conspiratorially, shooting looks at the retreating stranger.

What was the daft fellow talking about?


Snape strode away as the officer's companion muttered something about a heatstroke and gently guided her to a nearby bench. He hadn't done anything major. Just a simple confounding charm to muddy up events. Now should he get this to Dumbledore or should he chance the hospital alone? After a moment of deliberation, he came to a conclusion. People were less likely to assault him when he had an apparently senile geezer hanging around.

An hour or so later, he was following Dumbledore through the grand doors of the Trust Hospital. The old man strode over to the receptionist, looking for all the world like a grandfather long gone senile, and gave her a warm smile. "Hello, my dear." The woman behind the desk, a young thing, looked up from whatever trash she was reading and caught sight of the old man. She squeaked. "Oh sorry, sir! Didn't see you there. How can I help you?"

The Headmaster turned to Severus, beaming. "Oh, the young people today are so polite aren't they?" It seemed he was playing the old man card for all it was worth. "Well, you see, my great-grandson went missing a few days ago" and at this, his smile fell and a concerned expression etched itself on his face, "and the police told me that he'd fallen unconscious in the street and he'd been brought here. He's a sweet child and I've been worried sick about him."

The young receptionist reached out to pat Dumbledore's hand. "There, there sir. Don't you worry now. What did you say his name was?"

"Harry Potter. They said he'd been brought here on the first."

"First of August, sir?"

"Yes, dearie."

She typed something in the computer before her and waited a few moments before frowning. "I'm sorry sir, there doesn't seem to be any one of that name admitted on the first."

Dumbledore wrung his hands. "Are you sure, dear? They said it was St Thomas Trust Hospital. And he might have been out cold when they brought him."

"Hmm...there was an unnamed boy, age around 9 or 10 brought in that day. But I don't know if I can release his details..."

"Oh, can you please help an old man dear? My granddaughter has always been a bit off since her parents died and she's gone half-mad with grief and worry since her son went missing."

The receptionist looked at the pleading elderly man in his out-of-date suit and melted. "I could ask his doctor. She could tell you something. As a matter of fact, you're in luck. Doctor Alice is in. I'll page her. We'll see if she can help you? Can you wait on one of those chairs, a bit?"

Dumbledore gave her another brilliant smile and took a seat.

Nearly half an hour later, a young woman wearing a doctor's coat over blue scrubs came over. The receptionist had a little conversation with her and she came over to Dumbledore, her face unreadable.

"You're Sparhawk's grandfather?" she asked.

"Sparhawk?" Dumbledore's face was confused. "My great grandson's name is Harry Potter, miss"

"Oh right." she seemed to remember something. "Little kid with black hair and green eyes. A scar on his forehead?"

Dumbledore's eyes lit up. "That's him, dear! And you must be !"

"And where are the child's parents?" she asked in a frosty tone, giving Snape, who had come to stand beside Dumbledore, a gimlet eye.

"His mother's at home, doctor. She's... a weak little thing. Couldn't take her son going missing. Hasn't been out of bed in the last couple of days."

Sudden understanding dawned in Snape's eyes. "How bad is it, doctor?"

"What?" she asked, wheeling to face him.

"I'm sorry, it's not my place, but I've always suspected. I'm Mr. Wulfric ''s caretaker and the old man might be too blind to see it, but I've always suspected the woman had been off her rocker. She's been beating the child, hasn't she?"

Dumbledore turned to him with a gasp. "Why, Prince! Of all the things to suggest..."

Alice looked conflicted. Then she seemed to come to a conclusion. "I'm sorry sir, I can't say anymore. He's been turned over to child services. I suggest contacting them. They have his name down as Sparhawk, I believe."


A/N: For some reason, the editor on fanfiction dot net seems to leave out all the names followed by an apostrophe when I copy-paste. Might annoying. Can't find a way around it except using double apostrophes. Sorry. Read. Review. Bated breath.