Chapter Six

Severus sat on his bed and stared at the empty space were Emma Jones had stood only hours before. There had been no crack of Apparition when she had disappeared, only a strange susurration like the tide as it turned.

Since her strange and sudden disappearance both of his parents had returned home from work. He had joined them at the little kitchen table for tea. It was beans on toast; apparently the longed for wage increase at the mill had failed to materialise yet again. His father had dominated the conversation, venting his frustration with the site union and warning his wife repeatedly that strike action was weeks away, at most.

In the brief pause as he stopped to light a cigarette, Eileen turned to her son.

"What time did Emma leave?"

"Not long after you left for work," he replied, not looking up from his plate.

Tobias Snape leant back and blew out a long breath of smoke. "Did her parents come and get her in the end?"

"No, I walked her to the high street to get the bus." Technically that was true. The bus stop had been their original destination; they had just taken a rather large detour and then spent the bus money at the chip shop instead.

"Did she get the bus all right?" his mother pressed. Severus glanced up at her, noticing the tension around her eyes. He hadn't realised just how uncomfortable his mother had been to have another witch nearby.

He weighed his words carefully. "I watched her go." Hopefully his father would believe she had left on a bus, his mother could believe she had Apparated away. The truth was a little stranger.

-x-

The space she had vanished from seemed to haunt his room. He gave the area by his little bookcase a wide berth each time he crossed his to his desk and back.

The awful part was that he was certain Emma hadn't intended to leave. She had been speaking to him moments before she had left and her wand had been in her pocket. No one, no matter how skilled a witch or wizard they were, attempted wandless Apparition; the chance of splinching was just too great. No, he was certain that Emma had been snatched away against her will.

He thought back to their conversation. Going to Gringotts seemed like a pretty basic idea, really, and he was annoyed with himself that he hadn't thought of it earlier. Ollivander's was an even better idea. The strange, pale-eyed wizard seemed to remember every wand he had ever sold, and, although Severus was no expert, he was pretty sure Emma's wand was British-made.

It was the final part of their conversation that made him uncomfortable. Emma's reaction when he suggested that they turn to Albus Dumbledore had been a little extreme. Since his defeat of Grindelwald some thirty years before, Dumbledore had been celebrated as one of the great wizards of the modern age. Severus had little experience of him outside his role as an administrator and occasional disciplinarian, but could think of no reason why Emma should distrust him.

Could he have been involved in Emma's disappearance? In her missing memories? Just the thought that the Headmaster of Hogwarts had somehow been involved in Emma's disappearance was terrifying. Could Emma have been involved in the Dark Arts? Had she somehow antagonised one of the pillars of the wizarding community?

All he had were guesses, and none of them seemed to add up. As far as he could tell, Emma had simply been an ordinary witch. There had been no trace of darkness about her, nothing to mark her out as being different other than her clothes, her missing memories, and her unexplained disappearance.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he tried to think of a more reasonable explanation for her sudden disappearance. Nothing presented itself.

There was nothing he could do but wait.

That evening he sat and waited in his room, his eyes fixed upon the spot where she had vanished, listening to the quiet sounds of the street as the summer evening began to fade.

Eventually, once the room was bathed in moonlight, he conceded defeat. He changed for bed in the bathroom, just in case.

-x-

Despite having spent the previous night lying cramped on his parents' sofa, his sleep was uneasy, and he woke often at each tiny sound that drifted through his open window.

As a result, he slept late and only woke at the sound of his mother shutting the front door on her way to work. He rubbed his eyes blearily as he sat up, staring round his little room in confusion. It looked the same as always.

He dressed in the bathroom and returned to his room. It felt as if he were keeping vigil for the missing girl. He sat in his room all day, his eyes continually flicking back to the space beside his bookcase. Eventually, his rumbling stomach sent him downstairs for something to eat.

This was the first full day he had spent in the house that summer.

It felt lonelier than ever.

He tried reading. He tried working on the projects he had set himself for the summer. He had thought of a thousand things to do that holiday to prevent himself from feeling the gaping hole Lily had left in his life. Now, none of them were working.

It wasn't as if he'd been friends with Emma, though she had been nice enough. She was easy company, even if she had been forced on him by fate. Getting her back to wherever it was she belonged had given him a sense of purpose yesterday, and now that it was gone, he found his current solitude to be even less bearable than before.

And, frankly, he was worried about her. Even in the wizarding world it generally wasn't a good thing for people to vanish without any explanation.

He couldn't quite bring himself to leave his room for any longer than completely necessary. He ate his lunch at breakneck speed and burnt his mouth gulping down his cup of tea.

He sat stewing in his room, ignoring his parents' return home from work until he was called down for tea. His mum had taken on some extra hours, and there were chops for tea. His father was in a rare good mood, usually a sign that he was about to head out to the pub to share his cheer with people other than his family. Severus endured every minute of it in silence.

Severus helped clear the table, but his distraction became clear when he managed to drop a plate he was supposed to be drying. His mother sighed as she fetched the brush and pan, wrapping the sharp pieces in newspaper before placing them in the bin. Severus had to grit his teeth to stop himself from commenting. She could have repaired it in a heartbeat with magic if she had wished. It was just another sign of how far removed she was from her own heritage.

He finished the drying-up in silence before stalking to his room and slamming the door, anger, and something darker still, churning in his stomach. Part of him still hoped he could turn to the woman who had gifted him with his magic, especially at times like this when he was so confused. The incident with the plate had reminded him that she would be unwilling – and most likely unable – to answer his growing questions about the witch they had taken in off the street. Eileen Snape had turned her back on magic. Chosen her husband's world over her son's.

He kicked off his shoes and lay back on the bed, staring unseeing at the ceiling, trying to force himself to calm down.

He needed to tell someone.

His mother was obviously not the person to confide in. The removal of Lily Evans from his life meant that his usual person to talk things through with couldn't help either. Who, then? Was this the sort of thing that needed to be reported to an Auror? And if so, how did an underage wizard get hold of the wizarding equivalent of a policeman? His family didn't even have a telephone, let alone an owl or a Floo connection.

He wondered if any of his housemates could advise him. Lucius Malfoy had suggested that the younger Slytherin should feel free to contact him should he ever needed help or advice, but even if Severus wasn't uncomfortably on taking him up on the offer – or if he even had a way to get in contact without an owl – then what could he possible say?

"I met a witch, very possibly a Muggle-born, with absolutely no recollection of who she was or where she was from. Then, just as things were getting interesting, she vanished without trace."

Even if Malfoy didn't piss himself laughing, then what possible advice could he offer? Given his private attitude to those with less than pure blood, he probably would consider her disappearance to be a good thing. It would save having to hide the body.

The worse part was that nobody other than himself had any idea what had occurred. Perhaps Emma had a loving family somewhere that missed her dreadfully and was currently scouring the country looking for her, but for all he knew he might be the only person who knew what had happened to her. And he wasn't even sure what that was.

How could he explain it to someone else if he couldn't even explain it to himself?

Perhaps he was over-thinking everything. Perhaps he had simply missed the normally distinctive crack of Apparition. Perhaps something he had said had suddenly jogged her memory, and she had returned home, not bothering with a goodbye to the boy whose life she had so unceremoniously invaded.

No matter where she had gone it was clear that she wasn't coming back.

That night he undressed casually for bed, not bothering to worry about Emma's sudden reappearance. She had blown into his life, and, with the change of the wind, she had gone again. He settled down into bed and placed his wand carefully under the pillow before turning out the bedside light.

He wouldn't stay indoors tomorrow; it was just too depressing. He would walk out along the towpath until he reached the lock, then cut across the fields to the little wood and walk until he was calm. Things would carry on just as before.

Nothing had changed.

He was alone again.