THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR

ALBUS / SEVERUS

Dumbledore's brow became incrementally furrowed as he read through the letter that an owl had just delivered through one of the tall windows of his office. It was not often he received letters directly from the Minister for Magic, but it was apparent that this was a matter of urgency. The celebratory whoops and laughter of students, who had just completed their final end-of-year exams, drifted through the open windows, as Dumbledore frowned at Fudge's signature. Something in the handwriting wasn't quite right, but that could be explained by the undoubted haste with which the Minister had written the letter. As Dumbledore rolled the parchment back up, got to his feet, and gathered his travelling cloak, there was a knock on the door.

'Come in,' he called. 'Ah, Severus. The end of another year already. Doesn't time fly?'

'Where are you going?' asked Snape sharply, ignoring the question.

'London,' replied Dumbledore, shaking on his travelling cloak. 'The Minister requests my immediate presence at the Ministry. There's been some trouble in the Department of Mysteries, and it might take some smoothing over. I imagine I'll be gone for the rest of the day.'

'And what about the Stone?' asked Snape tensely.

'What about it?'

Snape made a face of exasperation.

'I have made it clear, time and again, that Quirrell may be getting closer to making a move on the Stone. The last time I was in his office, I saw a chess set and a broomstick hidden in his cupboard – he's clearly been practising using both. And we already know what he's capable of with trolls. And now you've been sent an urgent letter that will remove you from the school for the remainder of the day? What could be so urgent that can't wait until after the day of the school exams? And why send a letter instead of using Floo Powder?'

'Fudge abhors tarnishing his best cloaks with soot,' said Dumbledore, while absently tapping one of his silver instruments with his wand. The instrument issued a puff of smoke, which formed a miniature harp. 'I can't say I blame him. Severus, I trust you to be able to keep the school under control in my absence. Please alert Minerva and the other teachers of my unceremonious departure. Oh, and keep an eye on Harry, will you?'

Snape glared at Dumbledore, who smiled and looked out the window, through which the azure sky was visible.

'What glorious weather,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. 'I think I'll take a Thestral.'

Once Dumbledore had left the office, Snape stood in silence for a minute, before following the Headmaster's footsteps. His billowing cloak wafted away the lingering smoke-harp produced by Dumbledore's silver instrument. Down the rotating staircase and into the corridor … Snape couldn't decide who to check on first: Quirrell or the Potter boy. Given that the staff room was on the floor below, he opted for the former.

The long, wood-panelled staff room was almost full: the teachers often gathered here after the end-of-year exams for a relaxing chat, away from students and classrooms. Many of the teachers clasped mugs of tea; Professor Trelawney was examining her empty cup with great interest, no doubt divining some meaning in the soggy tea leaves. Professors Sinistra and Flitwick were in deep conversation, and McGonagall, closest to the entrance and on the verge of leaving when Snape entered, was clutching a large pile of books.

'All done, Severus?' asked McGonagall briskly, peering around the books. 'What about the Headmaster, is he coming down?'

'Professor Dumbledore has been called to the Ministry on urgent business. He's taken a Thestral just now – he expects to be back in the morning. Minerva, have you seen Quirinius?' he asked, as he held the door open for her.

'Thank you, Severus – No, I haven't, as it happens. Perhaps he is still finishing his last exam,' she said, and disappeared along the corridor towards the Entrance Hall.

'Are you staying, Severus?' called Professor Sprout from across the room. 'There's a tea here for you, it's still hot.'

'Oh, no thank you, Pomona. I ought to look for Quirinius in the Great Hall …'

He ducked out the room, wondering whether he should instead head straight to the third-floor corridor, just in case … but a thudding sound in the Entrance Hall caught his attention: McGonagall had just dropped her pile of books on the floor. She was in conversation with the youngest Weasley, Granger and (Snape experienced an involuntary stab of dislike) Potter. Judging by McGonagall's harsh tones, they were not having a light-hearted discussion about the end of the academic year.

Snape waited until McGonagall had started climbing the marble staircase, before slowly approaching the trio himself. Potter, with his back to Snape, was whispering to the other two with what Snape considered an air of arrogant importance. They didn't even notice their Potions master approaching, and he snatched some of the conversation.

'… he's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.'

'But what can we –' Granger began, but broke off abruptly when she spotted Snape. Potter and Weasley spun around, with almost comic fear in their expressions.

He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. Was it actually possible, Snape wondered, that Potter had come to the same conclusion about Quirrell? But what did it matter? The last thing he needed was three children to head to the third-floor corridor and risk getting harmed, or worse, by their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Much as he resented it, it was his, Snape's, responsibility to keep Potter safe.

'Good afternoon,' he said to them. 'You shouldn't be inside on a day like this.'

'We were –' began Potter, but appeared to stumble on his excuse.

'You want to be more careful,' said Snape. 'Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?'

Harry's face reddened with embarrassment. As they turned to head into the grounds, Snape decided to play his trump card.

'Be warned, Potter — any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you.'