It was sick. Sick. She half-hoped Draco or Dean would admit the situation to purely be some sick joke gone out of hand, but she knew the Asps far too well. They would not joke about that. Never about that. Not them. Hermione had seen how they all revered him, and that they knew how deeply she cared for Horris herself. Either way, she'd barricaded herself in the dorms and simply refused to come out. The Gryffindor sixth year girls must be quite mad at her by now, she knew, but at the same time couldn't bring herself to care. Couldn't bring herself to go down to the dungeons, either, lest this did prove to be some prank. Then again, even (or perhaps especially) if it weren't, she'd rather not encounter anything or anyone who reminded her of Horris so potently.

Then again, she could not help but wonder how Draco and the other Asps were dealing with it… the event having occured practically under their noses. She hoped they didn't blame themselves, though she knew that to be as likely as them having made the whole thing up. Hell, she had blamed them as well, hadn't she? Outright demanded to know how something like that could have happened…

No matter how she digested things, however, the dark facts remained the same. Horris' body had somehow disappeared from the Snape family catacombs, from the formidable Snape Manor web of wards, said to be at least twice as thick as any other (Hogwarts included, apparently), without a trace. Not only that, but she was fairly certain the Asps had continued to guard the place as a way of mourning their leader, and most of the Asps frequented the body's side. The event should be recorded as the very definition of impossible.

Hermione had been wary of the professor's mysterious sister, but couldn't quite bring herself to blame the woman of something like this. Then again, could she bring herself to blame anyone? Did she really know anyone sinister enough beyond the cruelest of Death Eaters she'd seen when brought before Voldemort?

All she knew, thus far, was that some sick, twisted individual (or group) had done what no culture on Earth fails to at least frown upon. How? Why? The answers no one seemed to know. What's worse, as custom dictates, nothing but a few preservation spells had been cast on the body, all previous spells taken off... which meant, sadly, that there was basically no way to find the stolen body. If this had happened earlier, a week or two after his passing, Horris' body would have still contained traces of his magic that they might have been able to track. Now, did this mean the perpetrator was lucky, or was this but a mark of a skilled grave robber; if such wizards existed?

A soft knock pulled her form that train of thought, her hand snaking around the wand at her side in preparation of hexing whomever dared disturb her at such a time.

"Herm?"

She stayed silent, though the wand returned to her bedside table. She wasn't about to hex the one girl who might prove her best Gryffindor ally.

"You there?" Ginny asked once more, the door creaking open.

"Where else would I be, Ginny?"

"Something's wrong," the girl noted sincerely, "what happened?"

"It's none of your concern, Ginny."

"Bloody well it isn't!" the younger girl huffed. "I think I damn well deserve to know what's got you avoiding everyone and their house elf!"

Hermione couldn't hold the sniffle that assaulted her at that moment, which changed Ginny's tirade. "Oh, come here," she offered instead, pulling Hermione into a much-needed hug just as the last of her control broke and Hermione began to cry in earnest. She didn't know how long she cried, how long they sat on the edge of her bed with Ginny softly patting her back and telling her it would all turn out fine… that everything would be okay soon enough, never realizing what she was assuring her friend.

"They took him, Gin…" she sobbed at last, not truly caring if she should have divulged that to anyone,

"They? They who? The Asps? The Ministry?"

"We don't know who- not the Asps- he's, he's just g-gone."

"Wait, who's gone?"

"Horris."

"Snape?"

Hermione nodded, wiping at her eyes,

"But, Hermione, Snape… Snape's dead."

"I know."

"So-"

"They took his body, Ginny… they… they stole it, right out of the pr-professor's catacombs."

"That can't be right. People don't do such things…" Ginny insisted, "even if they care nothing for customs, a body that old's useless, Hermione, especially one that's been kept in catacombs. One of the reasons rich old families keep catacombs is because the preservation spells prevent necromancy and all that!"

"It was not an easy feat, mind you; I expect to be paid in full."

"You'll be paid," the hooded figure assured,

"And my debt to you is null and void, correct?"

The hooded figure nodded slowly,

"I've no clue what you think to do with it, mind you, and I warned you it would be soaked in preservation spells before I got it, so don't you dare try to skive out of all you promised me!"

"I repeat, you will be paid, and the debt is done."

"Why are you willing to give me a small fortune for a dead kid, anyway? Especially with the debt I owed you already?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Fine. This had best not come back to bite me in the ass, or you shall find yourself forced into a state as lifeless as his," the vampire warned, coolly indicating the lumpy bundle he had just shrugged off his shoulder before walking away.

The hooded man smiled as the blood red eyes of the vampire turned to look back once before disapparating for good… when the Asps found the vampire, as the man was sure they would, there will be nothing left to come back and harm, let alone maim him. His pocket felt light with the lack of galleons, a small price to pay for a weapon as powerful as Horatius Ferox Snape had proved… as Harry James Potter would become. Now, all that was left was to tie a few loose strings, smooth a few rough edges, and nurse his plan into a fruitful success. If all went well, he just may remove all the threats to his goal… not just the one he had planned to use this new trump card against. After all, this boy proved far too expensive not to use against as many thorns in his side as possible.

He brushed back a few misplaced hairs once he had opened the canvas-wrapped bundle. First thing he had to do was revert the boy's appearance to that of the former Mr. Potter. He'd have to work on dispelling those pesky preservation charms, which by themselves would stretch the incubation period necessary before his actions could come to fruition. He had time, however, especially since when the weapon was ready, he could make up for all the time he'd lost. Now he simply had to make sure the renegade Asps did not catch onto his plan too soon.

Too bad they had deserted him; truly, their deaths would prove an acute waste of power. If only they had let themselves be led by him, as they should have, he might have let them live… if they proved adequately controllable, that is. He had considered attempting to control them through his newly-acquired tool, as this Alpha had before, but he was too wise to think such trained and jaded youths could be so easily deceived… even with their submission imprinted into their very being. Best cut his losses and risks by ridding the world of the lot… far less potential for miscalculation.

***

Draco fumed. They had no leads as to who could have stolen Horris's body… he was beginning to believe it had just vanished of its own accord. Whoever did it was a professional, knowing exactly what to avoid. Whoever did this was also obviously not human. None of the security mirrors near the entry recorded anything, so either both were wrapped in an invisibility cloak (since spells to make one invisible or unnoticeable would have tripped the magic-sensitive wards outside), or this was the work of a poltergeist. A vampire could have gone through as well, but those had to be invited inside warded areas, not to mention bloodsuckers were hostile to all sides save their own. Unless the vampires wanted Horris, the probability of a vamp being involved was slim to none.

Many of the Asps were getting restless, even before this fiasco, their natures unsatisfied with the lack of action now that they'd been christened in the blood of battle. Their instincts to avenge their Alpha, too, were gnawing at their constitutions. This may have well proven the last straw. Draco could practically feel how close the others were to taking it upon themselves to satisfy their urges. He feared, in fact, that they may destroy him if he tried to stop them.

To Horris, they could not help but be loyal… they'd all have starved or outright killed themselves before turning on him or disobeying his orders. To Draco, on the other hand, they were only loyal because they chose to be… because Horris had tried to accustom them to being so. Now, without even the reinforcing presence of his body, a constant reminder of what their Alpha stood for and what he had sacrificed for them, only their deteriorating self-control kept them under Draco's command. If he didn't give in and let them appease their nature (which Draco himself was also having a hard time ignoring), he feared what they might do.

He worried about Lea, as well, though he no longer dared say that name aloud. She had not taken the news of Horris's disappearance well, not at all, though he wished to find anyone who had. The Slytherins reported that she had locked herself in Gryffindor tower after her outburst when first told, meaning that she was presently bottling it all in. As she was in Gryffindor, however (and probably why she had hid herself there), he would be hard pressed to speak with her until she returned to Slytherin. If she didn't return soon, however, it may prove a risk he'd be forced to take.

"They found something, Dragon."

"Did they?" he asked, pulling himself back to what the new arrival was saying,

"Wolf told me to get you right away, sir," the Asp continued, "he sounded most disturbed."

"Where is he?"

"At the edge of the wards, near the river."

He was off before the Asp, Terry, knew what was happening, a most annoying dread nagging in his stomach.

"What did you find, Dean?" he called when he was near enough the group for them to hear him.

"We finally figured out where he breached the wards."

"They go through the river bed," Draco negated.

"Thus we didn't start here," Dean confirmed. "The wards keep anything harmful from entering through the water, but let fish and the normal, natural debris pass…"

"A body or life signature would have registered," Draco insisted, having studied the wards in detail after the event.

"We found a scrap of…well, something. We thing the body was wrapped in it."

"You found a scrap of 'something'…" Draco echoed. "So?"

"So it seems to mask everything; smell, magic… and the wards can't detect it."

"That's impossible."

"See for yourself."

"Well, I'll be damned." Draco huffed, the cloth giving readings like some random boulder.

"It won't disguise life or movement… but a rock and body wouldn't be distinguishable with this."

"What about the person who did this then? A body…" Draco calmed himself a bit, "a body doesn't just get up and walk away."

"Would a moving rock trigger the wards?" Dean prompted,.

"Well… no, but even this thing can't disguise life!"

"Vampires aren't alive."

"But Vampires-"

"Draco, just because they aren't on a side doesn't mean one of them couldn't have been bribed."

"But…" Draco paused and really considered what Dean had said, "This is bad."

"Sucks, I know."

"Wait, but the manor has anti-vampire wards."

"Those rely on magic signatures unique to vampires and the trace of those they fed from still lingering in the blood. This thing takes care of both of those."

"So this is supposed to be some sort of vampire ward cloak?"

"Far as I can figure," Dean affirmed, "nothing else could use it without still needing to get around the life detection somehow…"

Great. Vampires have something that makes wards useless, and they're apparently out of their self-proclaimed seclusion from Wizarding matters.

"Have you found a trail? Any at all?" Draco pressed after fingering the taunting cloth once more.

"Um…"

"Well, have you?"

"A drained Muggle hiker was found about a half-hour's walk from here… the Professor might-"

"The Professor is NOT finding out about this. Get Lestrange or Lea to do it if you must, but I am not about to tell him about something we could rectify ourselves."

"Draco, how are you planning to rectify this? Especially without telling anyone who could identify the vampire?"

"I'm dispatching the Asps. We have a trail, we have a drained Muggle… and we damn well know the vampire didn't steal Horris' body for himself. One team, two even, follow what they can while we look at the poor drained fool to find markers or vampire residue. Even if this guy's a pro at espionage, he still can't mask his residue… and even if I'm not the Professor, I can still brew a lineage potion good enough to identify its clan given the necessary equipment and a Ravenclaw or two."

Draco could only hope the situation proved no harder than he had led his friend to believe. Still, a hunt was just want the Asps had needed… a vampire would prove quite a formidable prey, far more challenging than some Death Eater idiots.