Harry had imagined that Severus had gone home to his family; he hadn't seen him about the school. He was therefore surprised to see him at dinner on Christmas day - where had he been for all the other meals? He took one of the seats next to Severus, and smiled at him. His smile was not returned, if anything Severus's expression tightened.

"Since we are so few," said Dumbledore, "it made no sense to keep to the House tables."

Harry looked around. Other than himself and Severus he could see Professors Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, McGonagall and Vector. The only students he could see were a Ravenclaw second year, a Hufflepuff third year and two Slytherin fifth years. The thirteenth chair at the table was empty, but just as the soup was served Hagrid came through the doors and everyone budged up to allow him to join them.

On Harry's other side was one of the Slytherin fifth years, but he didn't seem to have much to say for himself. Or not to Harry; by the time they were helping themselves to chipolatas and gravy he had struck up a chatty conversation with the Slytherin on his other side.

Severus concentrated quietly on his meal, though from time to time his eyes slid towards Harry as though he would have liked to speak but couldn't find the words. Harry was left half wishing he'd gone home, even with Aunt Petunia and Dudley there. But then, he imagined that whatever Severus might have to say to him would be best without an audience of eleven other people, one of them his Headmaster.

Suddenly, the doors at the end of the Great Hall crashed open and a man staggered in.

"Remus Lupin!" Dumbledore jumped to his feet, the movement belying his age, followed by Hagrid and Professor McGonagall.

It took Harry a moment to realise what the Headmaster had said, but then he followed him down the Hall. "Uncle Remus!" said Harry, as they approached. "What's happened?"

Dumbledore shot him a warning look, though why Harry did not know. It was surely no secret that Remus Lupin was a friend of his mother's. "Minerva," said Dumbledore. "Fetch Madam Pomfrey - you know where she is." Then he turned to Remus, "Don't move. You're safe now."

"What's happened to him?" Harry asked. To his untutored eye, Remus just looked a bloody mess.

"Harry!" Remus' eyes found his. "Your mother. Carola... Augusta...in danger. Voldemort." His eyes closed again, and he slumped back.

Dumbledore knelt beside Remus and felt his neck. He seemed satisfied for the moment, for he sat back a little. He said, "Severus. Take Harry to my office and both of you wait for me. I'll be along as soon as I can. You others..." his gaze took in the other students, whose faces wore looks of mingled curiosity and horror, "go to your dormitories and stay there. I'll have food sent up to you."

"But..." Harry started.

"Harry, go. You cannot help Remus by staying here."

Harry looked around, but Severus stepped forward. "Come on, Harry," he said, sounding more like the Severus that Harry knew and loved than he had at any time since he'd come to teach at Hogwarts. "We should go."

There was nothing for it but to follow Severus out of the Hall and up to the third floor. "Mint imperials," Severus gave the password and the gargoyle stepped aside.

Harry hadn't been in Dumbledore's office very often before; had he not been so worried he'd have been much more interested in Dumbledore's collection of Dark detectors and informational devices than he was. Instead he moved to one of the squashy armchairs and sat down. Severus followed him and sat in a nearby chair.

For a long time neither spoke, then Harry said, "You know something about this, don't you?"

"Some, yes. But it would be better coming from the Headmaster."

"Better for who?"

"'For whom'," said Severus and Harry frowned at him. "Everyone."

"You, you mean," said Harry.

Severus pushed his hair back with his right hand; it was a sign Harry that knew meant he wasn't sure what to say. Finally, Severus said, "Not just me. I'm not the only one involved here."

"Then you are involved."

"Yes, but..."

"Is this the real reason why you won't see me any more?" Harry was aware he sounded like a whining child.

Severus sighed. "Harry, please. The real reason is the one I have given you - your father's letter. There are others, but..."

Harry broke in, "What's happened to my mother?"

"I have... I don't know. I have suspicions, but we had best wait for the Headmaster who will have more news."

Harry shot him a look of disbelief, "You won't tell me anything..."

Severus sighed. "Giving you my unformed suspicions would only make things worse. Trust me. Harry, please. I have little more information than you."

**

It was not as long as it seemed, but it was still a very long time before the Headmaster arrived. Rather than moving to sit behind his desk, the Headmaster sat down on a third armchair. Harry noticed that Severus looked as startled as he felt at this, and his heart sank still further.

The Headmaster conjured a coffee table, and then a tray with tea, biscuits, three cups, and very curiously, a pork chop. Despite this, Harry was impressed; he'd started to learn conjuring last year and knew how difficult a skill it was to master. Even so he sat impatiently as the Headmaster poured tea for them all.

"Harry," said Dumbledore at last. "I have some bad news for you."

Harry went cold. "Is she...dead?" If his worst fear was confirmed, better have it over with quickly before he screamed and emptied the teapot over the Headmaster's head.

"We don't know, Harry." Dumbledore put his cup down. "She is missing."

"Like Professor Digitalis," said Harry.

The Headmaster's gaze was piercing. "How did you know about that?"

"We worked it out." Harry caught the Headmaster's glance at Severus and said, "Me, Ron and Hermione. That's why Severus is teaching, isn't it?"

"It is true that we needed a Potions teacher urgently."

Harry's brain was working overtime. "But that's not the only reason, is it? What does it have to do with my mother? How is Uncle Remus?"

"Remus has been taken to St Mungo's," said the Headmaster. He glanced again at Severus, and then said, "We have reason to believe that your mother, like Professor Digitalis, has been kidnapped."

"But why?" said Harry. "Mum hasn't got any money, only her Ministry wage."

"There are things other than money," said the Headmaster.

Harry was impatient with the Headmaster's evasion, "Such as?"

The Headmaster exchanged yet another glance with Severus, "Harry, your father..."

"What's he got to do with it?" said Harry. "Hasn't he caused enough trouble?"

The Headmaster sighed, "Harry, I will speak frankly. You know that your father is one of the most outspoken critics of certain elements in the wizarding world." Harry nodded; he could hardly have missed it. "It has come to the attention of those elements that recently, your father and mother have...ah...re-established contact. I believe the catalyst was your mother's concern over your relationship with Severus." The Headmaster stopped to pour more tea. "We do not know if Bellatrix Potter had discovered their... liaison, but it appears that your father's enemies have, and that they have decided to take advantage of it to attempt to secure your father's co-operation."

Harry was sceptical, "In that case, why haven't they kidnapped Bella?"

The Headmaster looked even more uncomfortable, "We think that they have realised that would have no effect on your father's actions."

Harry considered that, then put it aside mentally to think about later. "Oh. So what happens now? Is someone going to rescue my Mum, then?"

The Headmaster smiled, magisterially. "The story is not over, Harry. This is where things become complicated. The other reason for Severus coming to Hogwarts is that...certain people...want him here."

Harry was sure there must have been an expression of blank astonishment on his face. "What people?" he said. He turned to Severus, "You can't mean you're a supporter of people like Crouch and Voldemort?"

Severus shifted in his seat. "Not exactly."

"Then what, exactly?" Harry stood up, needing the distance and movement, "Do you agree with them in principle or something?"

"No!" said Severus. "I don't agree with them at all...not any more."

"Then what's the point of you being here?"

"Harry, sit please," said the Headmaster. He patted the arm of the chair where Harry had been sitting and Harry unwillingly resumed his seat. The Headmaster glanced at Severus and continued, "Severus agreed to help us as much as he can, including coming here to Hogwarts."

All this was irrelevant to Harry who said, "Are they going to rescue my mother? Are you?"

"Of course we will provide as much information as we can. Not that that's much," said the Headmaster with a smile.

Harry wasn't reassured; he knew that the Headmaster was not telling the whole truth and he resented it.

Again the Headmaster glanced at Severus. He said, "Precipitate action is unwise, especially in these cases. It would be the surest way to get her killed. You realise we're only telling you as much as we have to prevent you from doing anything that would endanger your mother, your father or yourself."

Harry nodded, it seemed expected of him, but doubts still assailed him. "What about Professor Digitalis? Do you know what has happened to her?"

"I do," said the Headmaster. "We do not expect her to return."

"She's dead, isn't she?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. I can't go into any further details." The Headmaster smiled, "Now, what I suggest is that you go up to the hospital wing and ask Madam Pomfrey for a calming draft."

"I'm fine, really." Harry gritted his teeth, it would be unacceptable to yell at the Headmaster, but that smile made him want to hit him with the table.

"No, Harry. Even if you don't feel you need one, I want you to go to the hospital wing. I don't want you in Gryffindor Tower alone. Severus, please escort him and ensure he gets there safely."

**

As soon as the other students returned from their Christmas break, Harry realised that Messalina and Caligula Potter knew something. He didn't know what it was, but there was definitely something. And he didn't like it one bit. They looked entirely too self-satisfied. The curious thing was that whatever it was that made Messalina and Caligula look so gleeful, they were not sharing it with the other Slytherins - Draco Malfoy looked particularly resentful.

Of course, Harry immediately confided all he could in Hermione and Ron; there was no way he'd willingly leave them out of a secret this large, especially as he had a strong idea that the three of them had had the right idea about Professor Digitalis. The problem was that they had no idea what to do with the information they had.

Harry therefore used what concentration he had left after worrying about his mother on a problem he could deal with: his career. He read the newspaper every day, hoping for something that he could reasonably apply for, but by the end of January he'd found nothing, and though he had several months still to go to the end of the school year, he was concerned. He had to stay in Hogsmeade to be near Severus.

There was no news, either, about his mother and though Harry did try to have confidence in the Headmaster and the Ministry's Aurors, he was feeling more and more desperate. However often he asked for a meeting with the Headmaster, the answer was the same - Harry was seventeen and he could help best by allowing those older and wiser than him to do their jobs. Though Dumbledore always said that he understood Harry's worries and shared them, that was precious little comfort.

From time to time he was aware of Severus's attention on him. He looked concerned, though he said nothing to Harry. Not that Harry imagined there was anything Severus could do even if he were prepared to - if he paid too much attention to Harry Evans it would undermine his position as a teacher. Harry did notice, one morning in early February, that Severus was rather more polite to Messalina and Caligula than he would have expected.

Professor McGonagall was suffering no such handicap. Harry felt that if she sighed over him once more he was going to dot her one with the largest piece of masonry he could find.

The news of Lily Evans' disappearance did not seem to have made the pages of the Daily Prophet. The news in the paper was dominated by the upcoming election. There were daily appearances and speeches reported from one, two or all three candidates and the election also dominated the letters column. Harry could not help but notice that after the speech he'd made before Christmas James Potter was conspicuously silent, the only mention he saw was a letter from an Augusta Longbottom of Pendle, Lancashire saying that James Potter 'had the measure of them all' and that it was 'a waste of time voting'. He could only suppose that his father's silence had something to do with his mother's disappearance. When he asked the Headmaster to confirm this deduction, he merely smiled in that way Harry was beginning to find infuriating.

What Harry wanted more than anything was to be out doing something to find his mother. He knew perfectly well that without more information he had no chance of doing anything. And that was how the Headmaster wanted it.

Then, one morning as he sat in the Restricted Section of the library, looking out into the quadrangle below an idea occurred to him...what about Aunt Petunia? Presumably she had been there when it had happened. He pulled parchment towards him and dipped his quill into the ink.

**

Harry spent the next few days metaphorically on the edge of his seat. He was disappointed that Hermione was not as hopeful as he was that they would receive any useful reply. As she said, "They use the Obliviate spell on Muggles who see too much. If anyone has, it's going to be your Aunt Petunia."

Despite this, Harry refused to be downhearted; he had an idea that even the Ministry of Magic would baulk at removing someone's memory of their own sister's kidnap. If nothing else, surely it would raise too many questions should she rediscover it later. Still, Hermione's comment worried him.

Harry returned to his studies. He was increasingly frustrated by Potions; Harry still loved Severus, but even he had to admit that as a Potions teacher he lacked something. Ability to teach, mostly. It wasn't that he had no talent at Potions, there was nobody like Severus in Europe - he was second to none - and though it was said that the African potions maker, Abelware Kujore, could outbrew anyone, they wouldn't say that in Severus's hearing.

Severus could probably, in Harry's opinion, have coped with an apprentice - someone older whose ability at the subject was already proven and their enthusiasm unquestioned. Faced with twenty-five students for seven hours a day Severus - and Severus's temper - did not hold up well.

**

The worry about his mother never left Harry; he was sleeping badly and his studies suffered as a result. The teachers said nothing, there wasn't much they could say, and he gathered that Dumbledore had told them if not the truth, something sufficient to prevent them from questioning him about his falling performance. He refused to think about what would happen if his mother did not return.

He was at breakfast with Ron when an owl landed in front of his plate, and tied to its leg was an oblong envelope rather than the usual scroll. He didn't have an owl treat on him, but luckily Hermione did.

"Don't you wish you had your own owl?" Ron said, as they watched her fly off up the main hall and out of a window.

"It would be useful," he admitted.

"But there's no point whining?" he said. "My mum says that all the time."

Harry opened his letter.

Harry,

I am still at your mother's house, they have told me not to worry, but little else. Dudley, of course, is spared the problems and grief because he is at school. It is proving difficult to get Vernon to continue to pay the fees, but it is dear Dudley's last year at Smeltings and it would be a pity to lose him his chance of attending a really good university.

Your mother's disappearance has of course been a dreadful shock to both of us, and to you as well, I'm sure.

She came home late on Christmas Eve, and we had dinner immediately - Dudley was hungry because it had been a long day for him.

Just after we had finished, there was a knock at the door and your mother answered it. I heard the door pushed back against the chain - you know your mother always kept the chain on - and then your mother cried out. I didn't hear all the words but one phrase stood out, "What have you done to James?" I rushed out into the hall, followed by Dudley - he's always been so brave!

The door was fully open, your mother must have taken the chain off, though I'm sure I don't know why. I just caught sight of a couple of people in silly long robes, one of them turned back and he had no face. I wouldn't let Dudley go after them.

I didn't know what to do so I called the police. They weren't much help.

Then, next day, your father appeared at the door. He warned Dudley and me to say nothing more, though of course that wouldn't apply to you. You've a right to know what happened. He also said that he'd take care of it.

I never liked James and if this is his idea of 'taking care of it' he's not hurrying. It has now been nearly five weeks and there has been nothing, no news at all. Nor is there any sign of the police making any progress. I am beginning to believe that dear Lily may never return.

Your,

Aunt Petunia.

Ron said, "She doesn't exactly sugar-coat things, does she?"

"No," said Harry. "I wonder why she took this long to write to me."

"Maybe it didn't occur to her," said Ron. "Strikes me that alleviating other people's concerns isn't all that important to her. Selfish old bat."

"What do you mean?" Harry said. He sounded a little vague because he was re-reading Aunt Petunia's letter.

"Well," said Ron, "it sounds to me that any moment now she's going to ask which of your mother's ornaments she can have - with her eye on the valuable ones."

"Ron!" said Hermione, who had come over from the Ravenclaw table and who was now reading the letter. "You're so cynical."

"Just realistic," said Ron. "Aren't I, Harry?"

"Hm?" Harry looked up. "Yes, of course you are."

**

He thought it over. It seemed to him that his only option now was a visit to his father. Harry had no idea where his father lived other than it was in Buckinghamshire. That cut it down somewhat, but not a great deal. There were, of course, people at Hogwarts who knew, but the first ones that occurred to him were Caligula and Messalina Potter and Professor Sinistra, the Head of Slytherin House. Asking them was unlikely to work - it would earn him nothing more than a superior giggle from Messalina, a sneer from Caligula and a censorious glare from Professor Sinistra. That evening at dinner he was exercising his mind over the problem when he looked up and caught Professor McGonagall's eye. Then he remembered: his father's address would very probably be on his own school records. It wasn't as if his parentage was a secret, after all. Not discussed, but not a secret. But would McGonagall tell him? Harry decided it was worth a try.

He slept on it, and then next morning after breakfast he made his way up the Great Hall to where Professor McGonagall sat, reading the newspaper and spooning up her porridge.

He stood in front of her for a few moments before she realised he was there. Before he collected his thoughts to speak, she asked, "What do you want, Evans?"

**

She'd asked him to meet her in her office at the start of morning break. He accepted the tea and biscuits she offered, knowing that would at least give him some time to persuade her. "I need my father's address," he said. Then he wondered if that had been too blunt.

Professor McGonagall didn't look surprised - far from it, and Harry realised she'd been half expecting something along those lines. She said, "You haven't had much contact with your father, have you, Evans?"

"None, Professor. Well, none to speak of."

"He was a student of mine," she said.

"Yes," said Harry. "Mum told me."

McGonagall's eyes softened, "Have a ginger newt to go with your tea." She pushed the tin over to Harry, and he took a biscuit, which wriggled for a moment then was still in his hand. "I was - am - very fond of your mother. She deserved better."

"Yes," said Harry, feeling this to be rather inadequate - though it accorded with his own thoughts.

They sipped their tea in silence for a few moments, then Harry said, "I wrote to my father just before Christmas but he hasn't answered. I didn't have a proper address so I'm worried that the owl didn't deliver it."

"Did the letter come back?" Professor McGonagall gave him one of her more piercing looks.

Harry did his best not to squirm, "No. Or, at least, not yet."

She looked as though she were thinking something over, then said, "Very well, Mr Evans. I want your word that if your father asks you not to write to him you must accede to his wishes."

"Of course, Professor."

**

Writing to his father was not at all what Harry had in mind. Predictably, Hermione looked horrified when he confided his plan to her and Ron. She said, "But Olney's miles! It'll take you days."

"Hermione!" said Ron. "I don't think Harry's going to walk, do you? Did we spend half last year learning to Apparate for nothing?"

Her mouth set into a stubborn line, Hermione said, "Even so, it's against the rules. We're not supposed to leave the school grounds or Hogsmeade. And what are you going to wear?"

"Wear?" Harry looked at her in surprise. As if he was worried about fashion now.

"You can't go to some Muggle village in your school robes. People will say things, ask questions."

"I was wearing Muggle clothes to get to the Hogwarts Express," said Harry, seeing what she meant. "They're in my trunk. I'll change in the toilets at the Three Broomsticks."

"I really don't like this idea, Harry."

"Neither do I," put in Ron. "I think Hermione's right for once."

"And if you are going," said Hermione, with a sharp glare at Ron - clearly the 'for once' crack had hit home. "I think Ron should go with you."

"What?" said Ron.

"I'll be fine," said Harry. "He's my father. He may not have had anything to do with me, but I don't think he's going to do me any harm. Honestly."

"You shouldn't go alone," Hermione repeated. "I don't think you should go at all, I think you're demented and will probably be expelled, but if you must go someone should go with you."

"Why not you?" said Ron.

Harry said, "And get him expelled as well?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione. "I insist someone goes with you. And if you're not back by midnight on Saturday I'm telling Professor Flitwick."

"But..." Harry started, but he was interrupted.

"Listen to me, Harry Evans. I think this is a silly idea, but if you must do it let's do it sensibly."

Seeing he had no choice, Harry said, "All right, then. Ron come with me, and if we're not back on time, you can tell McGonagall."

"But Professor Flitwick..."

"McGonagall or Severus," said Harry. "Nobody else."