Betrayed

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It'd been about a week since Abby, the temporary guest of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had left to go stay in an orphanage. And as each day went by, the students of every year started to notice that the temper of one Professor Snape seemed to get worse, worse than even his usual horrible temper. He was snapping all the time, taking points off left and right, and even some of his best students were finding that he was grading much more harshly than usual. Even the Slytherins, thought to be his favorite, were not going through the week unscathed.

There was no question as to why.

A few other professors tried to calm him, but he simply snapped at each of them, even Dumbledore. He wasn't even sure why he was so angry, but it didn't mean that he wanted people commenting on it, trying to make him feel better. It just made him more furious.

Scowling, Severus swept through the hallways after a long day of teaching, not worrying about heading to dinner since he planned on having it in his rooms. The same room that had felt rather empty since the girl left. There were no more random visits, or cheerful smiles to greet him. Just a stuffed dragon that Miss Hammond had given to him after Abby left, sitting in the chair she always used to sit in when she looked over the flower books.

Sometimes, he swore the bloody thing was staring at him.

Grinding his teeth, Severus was about to enter his rooms when someone calling out his name stopped him. Turning towards the voice with a glare, he wasn't surprised to see Madam Pomfrey coming his way. She seemed to find him when he didn't want to be found, especially lately. "What?" he asked with a snap.

Ignoring the Potion Professor's attitude, Pomfrey announced, "I'm thinking of visiting Abby tomorrow, to see how she's adjusting. I was wonder if you'd like to come with me?"

"And why would I do that?" sneered Severus, even though it wasn't the first time he'd thought about seeing the girl again. Not that he would admit it aloud. Or any of the many memories of Abby that seemed to haunt him more than once a day, and that he was tempted to place them all in a Pensieve and be done with them.

A heavy sigh. "Fine, forget I asked," said Pomfrey with a shake of her head. "Before I go though, I just want to let you know - it's cowardly to run away from your problems. Face them, Severus, and at least say a proper goodbye." And then she turned on her heel and left.

It took a few moments for him to fully understand that before Severus glared at Pomfrey's retreating back before marching back into his rooms. Him? Cowardly? While he certainly was no Gryffindor, he certainly not a coward! He was once a spy, caught in a game of cat and mouse between two very powerful wizards, risking his life so that the Light side might win. How dare she? And what was this about a proper goodbye...? He slowed down and came to a stop as he caught sight of the stuffed toy still sitting in his living room.

Oh. He hadn't said goodbye to Abby.

Resisting the urge to snarl at the dragon for reminding him - it was a toy, for Merlin's sake! - Severus plopped into his own chair, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. He wasn't completely sure why he hadn't gone down to say goodbye to Abby. He just couldn't do it. And then it was too late anyway, she was long gone.

It didn't matter anyway. He would never see her again.

Eating a light dinner, Severus started on a potion for Pomfrey, one that he had been putting off until now. Brewing always helped him, wiping his mind clean for at least a little while. Yet tonight, he couldn't help but sometimes think of the dark haired girl that used to run into the room, not caring that she was interrupting his work, asking question after question about the ingredients, about the potion itself. Then she would sit next to him and watch as he worked, or if he didn't want her near the potion, she would sit in one of the desks and draw nonsense that she would later show him proudly.

Some time later, he slammed his stirrer down. Severus was growling as he banished the potion with a wave of his wand. He couldn't think properly, and the result was a botched potion that he was lucky didn't blow up in his face. While he was usually a night owl, he decided this was the best time for him to head for bed, with a finger of alcohol beforehand to help him go to sleep faster.

And yet he still couldn't escape her - dreaming of bright green eyes that were filled with tears and the girl's echoing voice speaking nonsense he couldn't understand before he was startled awake, breathing heavily and coated in a thin layer of sweat, which he banished away with a simple cleaning spell.

"She's gone," Severus growled to himself before pulling the blanket up to his chin and screwed his eyes shut. "Get over it, man."

It felt like only a few moments of sleep had passed before someone decided to wake him by pounding on his bedroom door. "Severus! Severus, wake up!" called out the intruder. "Severus!"

Snatching up his wand, Severus was on high alert for a few moments before groaning as he realized who had woken him up. He cast a quick spell to tell him what time it was, and blinked in surprise when he saw that it was nine-thirty in the morning. He'd slept in and missed breakfast. Well, at least it was a Saturday, and there were no classes for him to worry about till much later.

The pounding resumed, and as Severus stumbled out of bed, he called out, "I'm coming! Stop that insentient knocking!" Shrugging on his dressing gown, he opened the door, narrowly missing Pomfrey's fist when she tried to "knock" again. "Bloody - What is the urgency, Poppy -"

"Abby's missing!" Pomfrey cried before he could even finish his sentence.

It took a moment for him to understand. "What? Poppy, what are you talking about?" asked Severus. "How can she be missing?"

"I went to the orphanage this morning to visit her," Pomfrey explained frantically, "but when I got there and asked to see her, they said that she was never taken there. In fact, they didn't even know she was supposed to be coming! Severus, someone's taken her, and I think it was Thomson!"

Severus frowned. "Thomson? Why would she take Abigail?" There was nothing special about her, save for the fact that she had lost her memories, and therefore couldn't tell them anything about her past.

Pomfrey shook her head. "I don't know, but who else could have taken her? She was the last person to have seen her."

Sighing, Severus tightened his dress robe around his waist. "Have you informed Dumbledore of this news?"

"Not yet, I was going to talk with him after you."

"Then we will go together," decided Severus. "Just let me get changed."

~o0o~

If she was to go by the number of meals she received since she was taken from Hogwarts, Abby guessed that this was her seventh day in the room. Or was it her eight? Sometimes she wasn't really sure.

Nibbling on the dry toast she'd been given for breakfast, Abby glanced around the room, her eyes shining dimly in the low candle light as she watched the other children that were being held there with her. She had learned from Tim that the 'lady' had all brought them here, sometimes under the pretense of being taken to an orphanage, like her, or simply stealing them from their homes. She was number eight. Some of them had been brought there at least a month before, if they had to guess, maybe more.

The reason? None of them knew.

And she quickly learned that none of the others could use magic. Or even knew that it really existed. They were what Mr. Severus called Muggles. They didn't understand that the 'lady', who Abby learned that was what they called her since she had never told them her name, had used magic to steal them away. And unlike her, they had all been knocked out when captured, waking up hours later and in the room, so they didn't know she could move from one place to another in a matter of seconds. In the beginning they had wondered about the house-elf that brought them their meals and newer - but plainer - clothes, but stopped when they realized that it wouldn't answer any of their questions. After some questioning of her own, she learned its name was Mammie, which they only learned when the lady called out for her.

While Abby knew better, about Thomson and Mammie, she held her tongue. She didn't want to look like a freak, and besides, what would it do? She couldn't use magic to get them out - the most she'd accomplished during her capture was creating a light while the others were asleep.

"You alright, Abby?"

Looking up at the 'leader' of the children, Abby nodded as she swallowed the last of her toast. "I'm fine, Tim," she answered. Tim was the oldest at ten, with sandy brown hair and light grey eyes, and he was almost like a mother hen; checking up on them frequently, giving his blanket or food away to one of the smaller children. When asked, he said that he was used to it, something about doing the same with his siblings. "How's Mary doing?"

Sighing, Tim glanced at the beds that they were forced to share. One of the girls, Mary, was curled up with a blanket, shaking from the fever she'd woken up with. "Alright for now, but it's gonna get worse really soon. We need medicine."

"Maybe we could ask Mammie for some broth and crackers ?" suggested Abby, remembering that Madam Pomfrey had given that to sick students when they needed to stay overnight. "So she can at least eat?"

"We can try," said Tim. He ruffled Abby's short hair with a small smile. "Thanks."

When she was alone again, or alone as one could be when locked in a room, Abby curled up against the side of the bed and rested her chin on her knees, wishing that she at least had her drawing pad. Even though her situation was terrible, she was only five - maybe? - and still got bored easily. She wasn't sure how many times she could go over potion ingredients in her head, some which she remembered from Mr. Severus explaining them to her. At least it kept her from thinking of what was going to happen to her.

'Dandelions could be used to help heal small cuts. Wild mint can help with coughs, colds, and fevers when taken as a tea. Violets can be used in love potions -'

The door slamming open startled Abby out of her thoughts, and everyone in the room watched as Thomson, or at least that's what Abby still called her in her mind, pushed forward another kid into the room; this time a young boy that was her age. Child number nine. He immediately fell to the floor, probably scraping his hands, and started to cry, tears running down his cheeks.

"SHUT UP!" screamed Thomson, earning more tears before slamming the door shut behind her. She started to mutter to herself, not even noticing Tim rushing up and checking over the new kid, making sure he wasn't too hurt before getting him away from their captor. "Damn, I hate kids, all you do is cry and whine -"

"Excuse me?" asked Abby hesitantly, flinching when Thomson looked her way. She looked different from the last time she saw her, her eyes now darker than before and her hair paler, but she still had the same overly sweet voice. "Please, we need medicine for Mary, she's not feeling too well-"

"What?" Thomson whirled around, marching over to the sick girl and letting her spidery fingers touch her forehead. "Damn," she cursed again after momentarily examining her. "I can't leave you alone without one of you little brats getting sick. MAMMIE!" she screeched, and the house-elf rushed into the room within a matter of seconds. The door was open, but none of the children dared to move. Last time one of them had tried to escape, she had knocked him out with what Abby knew was a spell.

"Yes, mistress?" asked the house-elf.

Thomson jabbed a finger at Mary. "Do something about her!"

"Yes, mistress," said Mammie with repeated bows, her ears flapping before she picked up the girl, who was even smaller than her, and rushed back out of the room.

"Well, I think one more kid and I'm done," said Thomson as she moved back to the center of the room, glancing over the children who trembled in her presence. A wicked grin was on her face. "Can't wait to get all you brats out of my hair. I don't care what they do with you." Turning on her heel, she swung the door open and left them, the door slamming shut behind her. The room was eerily silent for only a few moments before everyone started muttering to each other.

Possibly the only one to hear those words, Abby went white. Soon enough, Thomson would be getting rid of them. Who knew where they'd be going, or what would happen to them? Burying her face in her knees, she started to silently cry, tears burning her eyes before rolling down her pale cheeks.

'Mr. Severus, where are you? Why haven't you found me yet?

"A-Are you alright?"

Lifting her head, Abby saw that the boy brought in a few minutes ago was staring down at her, peering over the edge of the bed she was leaning against. From what she could see in the dim light, he had neatly trimmed dark blonde, or perhaps light brown hair that sometimes brushed against his cheeks, still round with baby fat and red from crying, and pale blue eyes that were raw.

"Yeah," said Abby as she bowed her head so she could hastily wipe away her tears. "Yeah, I'm fine." She looked up again. "What about you? You alright?"

He shrugged, mumbling that he was fine.

For a long minute, the two were silent before Abby finally asked, "How did she get you?"

The boy seemed startled that she was even talking to him, and stumbled to say something. "Uhm... I was playing near the garden," he started, "and she came up and asked where my Granny was. I said she was inside the house, and then the lady asked if I could show her the way. When I started to walk to the house, she grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me away. I tried to scream, but she must have cast one of those Silencing Charm my Granny uses sometimes or something -"

"Wait, you know about magic?" said Abby, startled.

"Yes?" said the boy hesitantly. "Don't you?"

Glancing around to make sure no one was trying to listen in, Abby turned back to him and nodded. "Yeah, but none of the others do. They're all - whats the word - oh yeah, Muggles. They think the lady was just using tricks when she stole them away."

"Oh... we're not allowed to use magic in front of Muggles," the boy said in a whisper. "Granny said so."

"Doesn't matter anyway for us - all I can do is make a ball of light." said Abby with a shrug. It wouldn't help them get out. "What about you? Can you use magic?"

"I haven't done any magic yet," admitted the boy sadly. "Granny really worried that I'll turn out to be a Squib. My uncle too."

Even though she had no idea what a Squib was, Abby nodded in understanding. "What about your parents? They aren't worried?"

"... They're dead," said the boy, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Died when I was real little."

"Sorry... Do you remember them?" Abby asked gently.

"Sometimes, if I think really hard. Little bits."

"I don't remember my parents at all," Abby finally admitted, leaning back her head and resting it against the wall. "I lost all my memory - my name, my family, everything," she explained when the boy looked at her with wide eyes. "That's how the lady kidnapped me. She took me from the people I was staying with and was supposed to take me to some orphanage... I know it's nothing compared to your parents dying," she went on. "But at least you remember them, right?"

'I'm sorry," said the boy. "That you lost your memory, I mean."

Shrugging, Abby was silent for a moment. "it's not so bad," she said. "Miss Poppy - she was one of the people that took care of me - said it was because something happened to me that was bad enough that I didn't want to remember it anymore." She glanced down at her hands, still covered with tiny scars that couldn't be taken away with a wave of someone's wand. "I guess I'm better off not remembering whatever happened if it was that bad," she finished.

"I guess so... wish I could forget somethings," the boy mumbled. "But not everything. Especially not my granny."

"Do you think your grandma will come looking for you, then?" asked Abby.

"Maybe... Once she see's that I'm gone, I guess," said the boy with a shrug. "What about you? The people you were staying with - do you think they'll look for you?"

"I hope so," answered Abby after a moment. Would Mr. Severus, or anyone from Hogwarts, come and look for her? She didn't even know. Maybe they would just forget about her. "But until they find us, we'll just have to stick together, right?" She stuck her hand out to him. "My name's Abigail, but you can just call me Abby. Don't got - I mean, I don't have a last name. Nice to meet you."

Staring at her hand for a long moment, the boy finally reached down and took it, smiling shyly and blushing a light pink. "Neville Longbottom. Nice to meet you."

~o0o~

"How long does it take to get some bloody information nowadays? You'd think they were sending it by owl!"

"Please, Poppy, I must ask you to calm down -"

"Calm down? Albus, a little girl was kidnapped, which we've just learned a week after it happened, so who knows what's happened to Abby, and you're asking me to CALM DOWN?"

"Poppy -"

As the scene between Pomfrey and Dumbledore continued, with the latter again repeating his request that the healer to calm herself and sit down, Severus continued to watch the fireplace, his left leg bouncing as he waited. They had informed the headmaster immediately about what they learned, and the first thing Dumbledore did was Floo call Kingsley, asking him to find out anything he could about the situation. The Auror had promised he'd call him back within the hour with whatever he had.

It had now been an hour and fifteen minutes.

Placing a hand on his knee as he tried to stop his leg, Severus leaned back and closed his eyes. How could this have happened? She was suppose to leave Hogwarts and he'd never have to worry about her again. And yet not even a week after her departure, he was worried about her safety.

'No, not worried,' he corrected himself mentally. Maybe concerned, but not worried. He never worried about others.

The Floo suddenly flared green, and everyone in the room stopped what they were doing as they watched Kingsley come through, already given permission by Dumbledore, with a small file under his arm. "Did you find out anything?" Pomfrey asked immediately, while Severus stood as casually as he could.

"Reports show that no one from the Special Victims Department sent any letter out regarding Abigail in the last month," Kingsley answered. "Do you still happen to have the letter that was sent to you, sir?"

"Of course," said Dumbledore as he pulled it off his desk and handed it to the Auror.

Holding it up, Kingsley studied it with a frown. "It certainly does look authentic," he said after a few long minutes. He placed it back on the desk and then opened his file, studying something inside it. "And that is Thomson's signature. So far, the evidence does point to her, with her being the last person to see Abby and the one to send the letter. But it doesn't make sense. I've looked over her file, and she hasn't done anything before to draw attention to herself. Only missed one day of work in the last year, she's never had any complaints filed against her. She's not the best worker they have, but she certainly isn't the worst. While she does go out into the field sometimes, she usually only does paper work."

"So she had the means to send a letter and then made sure there was no history of it," said Dumbledore with a sigh. "That means she had intent to do this. Why, though?"

"There are many reasons as to why," spoke up Severus, "but none of that matters at the moment. What we first need to do is find Thomson and get her to tell us where she took Abigail. Can you accomplish that, Kingsley?" he asked with a sneer.

"I can't arrest her without more evidence," said Kingsley. "But... I can at least bring here in for questioning. Give me another hour." And with that, he went back through the Floo, the crackle of flames filling the silence that followed.

Sighing, Severus sat back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, I hope that poor Abby is alright," said Pomfrey as she rung her hands together, shifting from anger to worry. "She must be so scared."

Absentmindedly, Severus nodded to agree with that statement. The girl still had her fear of shadows, of loud and sudden sounds, and of course of meeting new people. And during her stay, Pomfrey had told him about her new fear of dogs, which was revealed when she meet Hagrid's over-sized dog for the first time, and at the same time they learned that she also couldn't stand large amounts of blood when she was so startled she fell back and cut her knee badly on a rock.

Severus closed his eyes. Almost all of that was from abuse, he and Pomfrey deducted, which was remembered more by her body than from memories. And while most of those could be taken care of slowly there would still be sometimes when she wouldn't be able to stop herself from shaking, or screaming. She was already damaged, both physically and mentally. At least his father had never hit him too badly, his mother would do her best to stop him. He would just usually shout at him, words and nothing more, and only if he was really angry did he throw something. And yet it was obvious that she had been through much worse.

What snapped him out of thoughts again was the Floo, and Severus blinked repeatedly before glancing at the nearby clock. Had he really been so deep in thought that he didn't notice an hour go by?

"Let me go!" hissed Thomson as she was led out of the fireplace by Kingsley, snatching her arm back from his tight grip. "I don't know what this is about, but it does not give you the right to treat me like one of your prisoners!"

"Miss Thomson," said Dumbledore from behind his desk, smiling with cold eyes, "please, sit down. We need to talk."

"...About?" asked Thomson as she reluctantly sat in the nearest chair. "Is this about the girl - I believe we are calling her Abigail? Has she done something?"

"Yes, it is, in fact, she is the reason we've brought you here," Dumbledore answered, his smile disappearing. "We would like to know where you've taken her."

"Taken her? What are you talking about?" Thomson said with a frown, glancing around at the four that surrounded her warily. Severus noticed her fingers twitch. "I haven't seen her since that day in the infirmary, when she attacked Kingsley."

"Don't you lie to us, young lady," snapped Pomfrey. "I was there when you took her just a week ago! Now where did you take her?"

"A week ago - I don't know what you are talking about," said Thomson again, this time more firmly. "I haven't even been near Hogwarts."

"Oh, then where have you been?" Severus asked with a sneer.

"Working," said Thomson with a huff. "I've been busy with a case - some pureblood family wants to leave their Squib daughter in the Muggle world since she can't use magic. It's taking up all my time, trying to figure out where to send the poor girl and how to get here there with raising suspicion."

With a glance towards Dumbledore to make sure he had permission, Severus cleared his voice to catch Thomson's attention before looking into her eyes, silently casting the spell that would let him slip into her mind and see her thoughts.

A few long minutes later, Severus blinked as he withdrew from her mind, and Thomson groaned, clutching her head in pain. "What the hell? Did you just -"

"She's telling the truth as far as I can tell," announced Severus as he ignored her questioning. "She did not kidnap Abigail."

"What - Abigail's been kidnapped?" Thomson said with shock, wincing as another wave of pain went through her. "Why didn't you say so? I definitely had nothing to do with that - why would you even think I would do something that? I couldn't do something like kidnap a child!"

"But she was there!" protested Pomfrey. "I saw her! And what about the letter? She signed it! You said it was her signature!"

"Letter? May I see it?" Thomson asked with a frown.

Dumbledore nodded and handed the letter to Thomson, whose frown deepened as she glanced over it. "This is my signature, but... but it looks off." She brought out her wand, and before anyone could even move to stop her, she muttered a spell. A moment later, the letter glowed white, but it only lasted for a few seconds before it started to flash a dark red.

"What does that mean?" Kingsley asked.

"It means that the signature is a fake," Thomson declared, handing the letter back when it stopped flashing. "A very well done fake, my high level charm almost couldn't detect that magic was use to make it. Who did it certainly knows what they're doing."

"If you could tell me the spell?" Dumbledore asked. Thomson supplied it, and the wizard tried for himself, with the same results. "Miss Thomson is correct, the letter's signature is a fake."

"But if you didn't take Abby," said Pomfrey slowly as she quickly paled, "Who did? And why would they do it?"

"I can think of only one person that could do it," said Thomson after a moment of thought. "The only one that could possibly create my signature to the point that it's almost flawless."

"Who?" asked Kingsley and Severus together.

Thomson paused, almost hesitant to answer. "My assistant, Alice Meyer."

.

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