Harry's misery and fury hadn't settled down even after Christmas. He relieved his feelings by writing a long, angry letter to his father. That there was no reply only served to make his rage the greater.
He wasn't really over it when, one Monday during the third week in January he arrived in Potions to discover Severus in the classroom.
Severus looked the class up and down. He said, "Professor Digitalis has been taken ill. It appears she's going to be away for some time - probably for the rest of the year. Professor Dumbledore has therefore asked me to step in."
"Who's minding the shop?" Hermione had put up her hand.
"Not that it's any of your business, Miss...?"
"Granger, sir," she supplied.
"Miss Granger. But a cousin of mine has taken over."
Harry had wondered the same thing, but hadn't dared ask. He also suspected that this was a lie. He had no idea why Severus would lie about such a thing.
**
After two weeks' of Severus's Potions lessons, Harry came to the conclusion that, much as he still loved him, Severus was actually a better shopkeeper than he was a Potions master. Had Harry not already had an affinity for the subject he would have been put off it for life. As it was, he simply hoped that whatever was wrong with Professor Digitalis she'd get over it quickly. It didn't help that Harry was still smarting from Severus's rejection of him.
With his NEWTs drawing closer, he had to pay some attention to his future. He knew his mother would not be able to keep him for long, and it was therefore imperative that he find some kind of job as soon as he left.
He'd been aware, on the edges of his consciousness, that the election of the new Minister for Magic was drawing closer, but it only really came home to him when he started to leaf through the Daily Prophet on a daily basis looking for job advertisements.
There were only three candidates for the job - Cornelius Fudge, Bartemius Crouch and Lord Voldemort. The Daily Prophet was entirely on the side of Lord Voldemort. Harry didn't much like the look of any of them, and had no idea which of them he was going to vote for. To add to his problems there were very few jobs he could apply for; most of them wanted experience, the very thing Harry didn't have. He sighed.
"Having a rough time?" Hermione joined him at his table.
"A bit."
"I didn't know you read the paper."
"Looking for a job," said Harry.
"Oh." Hermione produced her Potions text from her bag and unrolled a scroll of parchment. Harry scowled at the book. It was the same one Professor Digitalis had used, but Severus had soured his temper. Hermione followed his glance. "It'll all sort itself out, you know. And he couldn't have had anything to do you while you were underage, anyway."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Harry knew he sounded rather short with her.
"No," said Hermione. "I was at the shop this morning," she added, irrelevantly. "The cousin's put up a big 'Vote Crouch' poster on the door. I half thought for a moment that he wasn't going to serve me, but he did in the end."
"Why wouldn't he serve you?" asked Harry.
"Well, that's what Crouch and Voldemort are against, isn't it? Mudbloods like me?"
"Language, Miss Granger," came the acid voice of Madam Pince from somewhere behind them.
"I suppose so," said Harry, ignoring the librarian. "That would include wizards like me...and Mum too, wouldn't it?"
"Probably. I'd forgotten your mother was Muggle-born."
Harry lapsed into silence, and Hermione got on with her Potions essay.
**
"Could I have a word with you, Professor?" Harry hung back after their next Potions lesson.
Severus frowned, but he didn't refuse. Harry waited until the students had all filed out. "I wanted to ask you something."
"Very well."
"The reason you...didn't want to see me any more," Harry started. There was silence while Severus waited. "Was it really because of what my father said, or because I'm Muggle-born?"
Severus looked surprised, and annoyed. "Harry. It was entirely because of your father's letter."
"There is a poster of Crouch on the shop door." Harry had been to Hogsmeade and checked.
Severus flinched, "I told you when Granger asked, the shop is being run by my cousin. He's entitled to do what he pleases with the windows."
"Then my mother had nothing to do with your decision?"
"Nothing. If that's everything, I think you should leave. Now."
Harry turned on his heel and left, making sure he slammed the door behind him.
**
The next odd thing also happened in the library. He was sitting beside the window in the Restricted Section; from there he was able to see the quadrangle below very clearly. Severus came out of a door at the far end, and suddenly he stopped, looked around, and then grasped his left forearm with his right hand. At that moment, Dumbledore came out of another door.
Seeing Severus - indeed he could hardly miss him - Dumbledore crossed the quad and put a hand on Severus's shoulder. They exchanged a few words and Severus almost ran out. Harry couldn't see but assumed he'd gone down the passage that led from the quadrangle out into the grounds. Dumbledore watched him go, Harry was too far away to see his expression clearly, but it seemed to him that Dumbledore looked concerned. Dumbledore looked up and saw Harry, at which point Harry returned to his neglected essay.
Harry had prefect duty that night. He and Hermione and a Hufflepuff prefect, Ernie MacMillan, had the job of patrolling the entrance hall for miscreants. Though why anyone should want to be there when they could be in a nice warm common room Harry had no idea. It seemed that Malfoy agreed, for though he was down for this duty he did not turn up.
Harry told Hermione what he'd seen from the library window. "Whatever it was," he finished, "Severus looked as if he was in pain."
"You've never noticed a scar or anything like that on Severus's arm?" Hermione had discussed Severus with Harry often enough to use his first name as Harry did.
"I know you and Ron don't believe me, but I've never...done anything with Severus which would involve him showing me his bare arms."
"Surely..."
"He wouldn't," Harry said. "He said I was too young and we'd have to wait until I left school. At least."
"Maybe he's ill," suggested Hermione.
"Maybe." But something in Harry felt that was unlikely. "Surely if he was ill Dumbledore would have sent him to the hospital wing, not out into the grounds?"
Hermione's brow creased. "I suppose so. Which reminds me...kind of...Dumbledore's not looking so well himself, is he?"
Harry had been wondering if he was the only one who'd noticed that.
**
"Hey! Harry! Harry!" Hermione came over from the Ravenclaw table to where Harry and Ron were having breakfast. Ron immediately went bright red; Hermione's presence always did that to him.
"What?" Harry looked at the copy of the Daily Prophet she was waving.
"Your father's made a speech."
Harry felt, and must have looked, less than impressed with this news. It wasn't as if making speeches was something James Potter did rarely - he was only too often on the front page of the paper.
Hermione rapped him over the head with the folded paper. "It's brilliant, honestly. He calls Voldemort a lot of very rude things, and very true things, too."
"Such as?"
"'Danger to the wizarding world', 'miserable wretch', 'morally bankrupt' and that's just for starters. His wife doesn't look too happy about it." She handed Harry the paper and sat down next to him.
Harry read down the article. Hermione was right, the picture showed his father standing at some kind of podium addressing an unseen audience. Bellatrix, standing beside him, looked as if she'd swallowed a whole lemon. As Harry looked up he saw the expression on Bella's face reflected on those of Caligula and Messalina over at the Slytherin table.
Harry didn't quite know what to say. On the one hand his opinion of his father had not changed - how dare he keep Severus and Harry apart? - but on the other hand he was rather pleased that someone had had the guts to speak out. He wondered what his mother would say when he owled her.
**
The election was drawing closer, and Harry was getting more desperate about his future.
He didn't want to work at the Ministry, he felt that much as he loved her, working at the same place as his mother was going to become tired very quickly. Nor had he changed his mind about being with Severus, no matter what his father, or Severus, thought about it.
He simply could not see a future that did not involve Severus in some way and that meant finding a job in Hogsmeade.
**
Harry's weekly letter from his mother arrived as usual on Thursday, brought by a rather bedraggled, clearly borrowed, Ministry owl. Harry sent it away with leftovers from his kippers, hoping that nobody from the Slytherin table had realised it was borrowed - though that was unlikely, after all. Except to the eye of love, one brown barn owl looked pretty much like another.
Dear Harry,
Not a long letter this time, I'm afraid. I have an unexpected visitor.
Your Aunt Petunia arrived yesterday. It seems she and Vernon had an argument. After what we found out in Torquay you can imagine what it was about - and she has decided she can no longer remain. The long and short of it is that she's left him.
I understand from her that we can expect both she and Dudley to be with us at Christmas. We have heard nothing from Vernon and I can only imagine he's 'living it up' without Petunia breathing down his neck.
To make matters worse, the Minister wants me to accompany him on a visit to Cameroon starting on the 26th of December and I will be preparing for that right up until Christmas Day. I don't expect that I shall be able to meet you and it will be disappointing for both of us for you to see hardly anything of me. If you do come home obviously you will not be alone because Petunia and Dudley will be here, but don't feel you have to.
Chin up, my dearest, and let me know what you decide to do.
Your loving,
Mum.
Two years running he wouldn't be able to go home for Christmas. Harry sighed deeply.
"Bad news?" said Ron.
"Just somewhat." Harry picked up his book bag.
"Your mother's not ill?"
"No. Nothing like that. It's just that I won't be able to go home for the holidays."
"Pretty rough."
"And my awful Aunt Petunia has left her horrible husband and wished herself on Mum for an indefinite stay."
"Ouch, not good. And we have double Potions this morning," said Ron. "I wonder if Professor Digitalis is better?"
When they arrived in the dungeon classroom there was still no sign of her; Severus was at the head of the classroom sorting through the contents of a box on the desk and barely looked up when the class entered. Harry suppressed his disappointment as best he could.
**
Break found Harry sitting on the low stone wall that surrounded the quadrangle with Ron, when Hermione joined them.
"How was he?" she asked.
"Bad mood," said Ron, after sliding a glance at Harry.
"And then some," said Harry. He missed Severus - his Severus and not this 'teacher' persona he seemed to have taken on - so much that it was almost a physical ache. They'd never been able to see as much of each other as he would have liked, but this was worse.
"Wonder when Professor Digitalis is coming back. Has anyone heard what she's got? Must be pretty serious."
"She's not in the hospital wing," broke in Hermione. "I was there only yesterday when that absolute oaf Malfoy tripped poor Luna Lovegood and she fell down those stairs by the statue of the Empress Livia." Seeing their blank expressions she went on, "You know the one, it's at the top of the stairs which lead to the East Tower opposite that statue of Augustus - they argue in Latin all day, you must have..."
"Hermione, do you mean she's been taken to St Mungo's?"
"No, because I asked. Madam Pomfrey told me that nobody's been moved from the school to the hospital all year."
Harry and Ron both stared at her, stunned at her barefaced cheek. "Hermione..." Harry started.
"I didn't ask like that, of course," said Hermione. "I commented, in passing, that hospital transfer must be difficult and need a special kind of Floo. And she said yes, it was a bit complicated because patients who are moved are nearly always very ill indeed, but luckily it hadn't had to be done from Hogwarts for at least eighteen months."
There was a long pause while the three of them thought about this. Then Ron said, "So, where is Professor Digitalis?"
"She could be in her rooms," suggested Harry.
"Alone?" Hermione sounded sceptical.
"She'd have visitors," said Harry.
Ron looked puzzled, "Such as?"
"Well, the teachers might..."
"Nobody's mentioned it. And you're pretty friendly with the staff, you'd think someone would suggest we send her flowers or chocolates or something..." Harry trailed off. "Do either of you know where her rooms are?"
Ron and Hermione shook their heads.
"Then it's lucky that I do," said Harry. "She once had me carry seven boxes of books from the Potions classroom to her door. What I suggest is this..."
**
"It's normally Hermione who comes up with cockeyed plans," said Ron as they crept out of the Gryffindor common room late that evening. "Hecate knows what trouble we'll get into - and you're a prefect which will make it fifty times worse when you're caught breaking into a teacher's private rooms."
"You don't have to come along if you don't want to."
"Of course I do. Who's going to keep you out of trouble if I'm not with you?"
Harry didn't dignify that with an answer.
At the junction of the corridor of Claude the Unclean and Hereward the Wary they met Hermione. She was already tapping her food and hissed, "What took you so long?" at them as they approached.
"Filch," said Harry. "We only just got away before being seen by Mrs Norris."
"I still think you're over-reacting," said Ron. "What can he do to you two, you're prefects."
"Lots," said Hermione. "And we're not on duty tonight, which he knows perfectly well."
"Come on then." Harry was anxious to get this over with, though he wasn't saying as much to the other two.
Professor Digitalis' rooms were at the far end of the second floor; Harry, Hermione and Ron found the door without too much trouble. Having done so, they looked at each other rather uncertainly. "What do we do now?" whispered Hermione, over the Latin susurration of the arguing statues.
Harry was impressed, the only other person he knew who could hiss a phrase containing no sibilants was Severus. He knocked lightly and said, "Professor?" in the loudest voice he dared use. The statues stopped arguing and looked at him. "Professor Digitalis?" said Harry, a little louder. "Can we come in?"
There was no answer, and Hermione and Ron looked at him. "Well," said Hermione, "I suppose we had to give it a go in case she was there. Can't just go stamping in."
Ron seized the door handle and turned it. He pushed hard, then almost fell through the door - it was open and had been all along.
The other two followed Ron inside, and he closed the door behind them. "Lumos!" he said and a wavering light filled the narrow corridor that led parallel to the passage outside. The light grew as Harry and Hermione also lit their wands.
Ahead of them Harry could see doors leading off to the left - none of them showed a light.
"Perhaps she's asleep," said Ron. He didn't sound too happy, and indeed Harry himself felt like a burglar. Or, how he imagined a burglar might feel.
The first door led to a tidy living room of impressive size. It appeared that Hogwarts did its professors well in the matter of living accommodation. There were two sofas at right angles to a large open fireplace, now only dead ashes, and various other bookcases, chairs and a large empty desk. Harry had a look at the titles of the books; many of them were familiar either from his studies or from his visits to Severus's private rooms behind the shop in Hogsmeade.
The next room was some kind of private study, and Professor Digitalis had set up a cauldron in one corner. There was now a very nasty black mess in the bottom of this, and Harry, with six years of magical education behind him, didn't investigate it too closely. Again, there were shelves of books, some of them familiar but most not. A slightly untidy bathroom followed.
The last room was Professor Digitalis' bedroom. This held a four-poster bed with crimson hangings, an old fashioned dressing table and three wardrobes, one of them crammed with books. But there was no sign of Professor Digitalis.
"Could she have gone home to her family?" asked Hermione in hardly more than a whisper.
"I don't think so," said Harry. "She once told me that she didn't have a family to speak of."
"When was that?" asked Ron, just as quiet.
"You remember when she spent three weeks away from Hogwarts just before our OWLs?" said Harry. They nodded. "When she came back I asked if she was feeling better and she told me she hadn't been ill, she'd been sorting out the estate of an aunt who'd recently died. She said then that her aunt had been her only remaining relative. And then she asked me to keep it to myself. Which I have, until now."
**
Harry had decided to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas when he'd first received his mother's letter; he'd thought about it very carefully since then, but he couldn't face three weeks looking at Aunt Petunia and Dudley day after day. He'd have endured it if his mother hadn't had to work, but without her it was too dreadful to contemplate.
That left him at school with the teachers and a few other students. Hermione and Ron were both going home; Ron would have invited him to The Burrow, but they were expecting both Charlie and Bill, Charlie's wife, Bill's girlfriend and Percy's fiancée. There just wouldn't be room unless he wanted to sleep in the broomshed. He wouldn't have minded, but obviously Auntie Molly did.
Harry watched the other students leave, his heart heavy - heavier than it had been last year when at least he'd had Ron's company. The seventh year boys' dormitory would seem very empty with just him in it. He looked around at the other three beds, and wondered what he should do. There was his pile of holiday homework, but he had three weeks in which to tackle that.
**
Harry's walk took him to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and to Hagrid's hut. He'd been friends with Hagrid from his very first day at Hogwarts; his mother had been a great favourite of Hagrid's, and Harry took a jar of home-made jam to him at the start of every term.
"Oh, there yeh are, Harry. I was wonderin'. Hermione and Ron gone?"
"Yes, they took the train." Harry looked at his watch. "They should be nearly halfway home by now."
"Fancy some tea?"
"That would be great, ta."
Hagrid waited until they were both served with tea and indigestible chocolate buns, before he said, "Gettin' on all right wi' Snape?"
"All right, I suppose." Harry toyed with his bun, then said, "Oh, all right, not very well. I'd hoped that when he was a teacher it might help, but it hasn't. He's horrible to everyone - he's almost putting me off Potions he's so bad and I liked Potions. I hate to think what he's doing to the others. He was so much better when he had the shop in Hogsmeade. I almost wish I didn't love him."
"Don't think too bad of him, Harry," said Hagrid. "I can't say much, but there are things going on that you don't understand."
"Is this to do with Professor Digitalis having disappeared?" Harry had blurted out the question before he really thought about it.
Hagrid dropped his cup with a crash, and tea slopped everywhere. "What do you know about that?"
"Not much," admitted Harry, wishing it were more. "Just that she's gone, and she doesn't seem to be anywhere we can find, and that owls sent to her just come back."
"Don't say anything to the others about it. It's none of your business anyway."
"It is when it's putting my NEWTs at risk," Harry said, he was irritated with Severus over this, and knew it showed. Then he shrugged, "The only people who've guessed apart from me are Ron and Hermione. At least, as far as I know. Do you know what's happened to her, Hagrid?"
"No. And nor does anyone else, so there's no point asking around, neither."
"But they are looking for her?"
"'Course they are! Don't you worry about that. Come on, drink your tea, and that bun's all turned to crumbs. Here, have another."
Harry took a second bun.