Severus was sound asleep when a loud yell woke him and he jumped violently as he sat up in bed and saw Mundungus Fletcher's head in his fireplace.

"Snape! They've got him! They've got Potter!" The head shouted.

His blood turned to ice even as he swore and leaped from his bed. He had worn his clothes to sleep in and he felt an instant's small gratitude for that. There was no time to waste, even for getting dressed.

"What happened?" He snarled.

"I-, I don't know," Fletcher stammered. "I was keeping watch and then someone got me from behind, don't know what curse it was, knocked me out cold. Then the next thing I knew, there were alarms going off, and lights on in the house. I ran in and Molly ‘n Arthur were trying to Apparate the kids out, and they were yelling that Potter was missing, so I grabbed some Floo powder and ran to the fireplace."

"Are Death Eaters there?"

Fletcher hesitated. "I haven't seen any, but what else could make the alarms go off?"

Not much. The wards were spelled to sound an alarm if anyone with malice towards the Weasleys or their guests tried to approach. Severus forced himself to think rationally.

"The Weasleys need to evacuate. I'm sure Dumbledore gave them a safe location to go to. Find out where it is and send them on. I'll contact some of the others, and we'll be there shortly. Don't touch anything!"

He summoned his Patronus once more and sent it off with messages for Moody, Shacklebolt, and Tonks. He wished fervently that he knew how to get in touch with Albus, but there was nothing he could do about that. He Disapparated back to the Burrow.

Or to the point in the woods outside the Burrow, to be correct. Severus was tense and alert, straining every sense for a hint of danger. But Homenum revelio showed that there were no humans in the woods or fields except for himself so Severus cast a Lumos spell next and hurried over to Potter's tree to hunt for clues. He had no doubt that the boy had followed his usual early morning routine and had been outside when he'd been snatched. Otherwise the entire Burrow would likely be destroyed.

The grass looked a bit flattened, and perhaps some of the twigs or leaves kicked aside. It didn't look disturbed enough for a struggle though, Severus decided. More likely, Potter had been hit from behind while he sat and brooded. Then the Death Eaters (for who else could it be, really?) had come up on him.

Daft boy! Severus thought, letting his fear morph into anger because anger was easier to bear. Didn't he ever think of how stupid it was to come out here alone? Didn't he realize that there are people who would sell their soul for the honor of giving him to Voldemort?

But then his inner voice accused him. Why didn't you warn him? You knew what he was doing. And you know that Potter doesn't have the sense of a billywig.

A slender dark piece of wood lay on the ground nearby, and Severus stooped to pick it up, filling sick at heart. Potter's wand. So the boy was completely helpless this time. What chance did they have of finding him alive?

He was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps and looked up to see Kingsley Shacklebolt hurrying towards him. A handsome, dark-skinned man with no hair and a penchant for wearing colorful robes, Kingsley was adept at maintaining a calm demeanor, but even so, his eyes were worried as he came up alongside the Potions professor.

"Anything?" he questioned, his voice terse with anxiety.

Severus held out the wand and Kingsley looked at it in grim silence. "So he doesn't even have that," he muttered finally. Severus slipped Potter's wand into a pocket of his robes and motioned to the ground. He and the Kingsley both knelt and held their own lit wands close to examine the grass better. "I think Potter was overpowered and knocked out, but it must have been a surprise attack."

"Not stirred up enough for a fight," Kingsley agreed. "Why was Potter out here this time of day?"

"He comes out here every morning," Severus replied dourly. "Just sits and stares at the ground. Mourning that good-for-nothing godfather, I suppose."

"Wonder if they knew that," Kingsley mused. "Or if they were planning a full-out attack on the Burrow, and just grabbed their chance when they saw Potter alone?"

Severus shook his head. "The real question is, where are they now?"

"You would probably have a better idea of that than the rest of us," Kingsley pointed out.

"Any one of You-Know-Who's followers could be hiding him," Severus replied. "Or they've got him stashed in some completely random place we'd never think of."

Moody and Tonks had come over in time to catch the last bit of conversation.

"What do you think they're doing to him?" Tonks almost whispered.

Severus gave her a grim look. "You don't want to know."

Tonks blanched but said fiercely, "We have to get him back!"

"We will," Kingsley said with quiet conviction.

"Absolutely nothing down there," Moody jerked his head towards the Burrow. "You find anything here?"

After a brief discussion, they agreed that Moody, Kingsley, and Tonks would stay and continue questioning Fletcher and looking for clues while Severus called an emergency Order meeting at Hogwarts. He wanted to stay behind and let someone else conduct the meeting, but Kingsley pointed out again that Severus would have a better idea of where they could look for Potter than any of the others, and so he should be the one directing the search. Severus couldn't really argue so he headed back to the castle.

***

Harry struggled dimly to stay awake. Unconsciousness would be a blessing in some ways. It would be a respite from the pain. Every bone in his body burned and ached from the lingering effects of the Cruciatus curse. And as if that weren't enough, there were long gashes down the inside of each forearm, dangerously close to his veins, that throbbed with each beat of his heart and oozed blood onto the cold dirt floor where he had been thrown and left to wait.

He didn't know why he was still alive. It would have made more sense if Voldemort had simply killed him on sight. Or at least it seemed that way to Harry. But Voldemort was keeping him alive, at least for now, and Harry couldn't decide if he were grateful for that fact or not.

The three Death Eaters had brought him to some sort of hall, a good bit smaller than the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but still grand and imposing, if Harry had been in a position to appreciate it. It had been a long room with a polished stone floor and walls hung with tapestries. Tables and chairs had been pushed to the side under leaded windows. There was a dais at one end of the room with a carved chair like a throne set upon it.

He had been sitting in the chair when they'd arrived. The monster who haunted Harry's dreams and who had already taken so much from him. A tall being, no longer really a man, with unnaturally white skin and no hair, red eyes, and slits for nostrils. Like his followers, he wore ebony robes. Unlike them, he did not bother with hoods or masks. He had smiled coldly when he saw Harry and stood, walking lazily down to where the little group waited before him.

"Well done," Voldemort had said silkily to the Death Eaters before turning his attention to his prisoner. "Welcome to the party, Harry. It is your birthday soon, isn't it? We wanted to celebrate with you."

Then it was all just a blur of pain. The Death Eaters had surrounded him, taunting him, kicking at him, cursing him. Harry was still stupefied and he couldn't do anything. There was no way to fight back or escape. He couldn't even scream to help relieve his agony. Just lie there and suffer until he was sure he would go insane, just as Neville's parents had.

It had all run together in his mind, a mix of rough voices, Bellatrix LeStrange's harsh laughter (he had recognized her voice even though she, like the others, kept wearing her mask) , Voldemort's red eyes gleaming in triumph and his slit nostrils flaring with pleasure, and the white-hot fire burning through his body.

Help me! Harry's mind had screamed. Help me, Sirius! Help me, Mum, Dad! I need you! But of course, they couldn't come this time.

And then suddenly it had stopped. Voldemort had stood and spoke in an eerily calm voice, as if he had been reading a book or finishing a meal instead of watching a teenage boy tortured within an inch of his life. "Come, my friends. We have other work to do."

Harry had fully expected to be killed then, but instead one of the Death Eaters, probably a man judging from his size, levitated him out of the hall and down a narrow flight of stairs to a small room with a dirt floor. As he'd floated away, Harry had heard Voldemort call after him, "Don't worry, Harry. We'll have more fun again later."

Downstairs the Death Eater had waved his wand and Harry had crashed to the ground. Then the Death Eater had pulled a silver knife from the sleeve of his robe and approached. He had held out Harry's arm and slid the knife along it, leaving a trail of blood behind. Then he had done the same with Harry's other arm and left.

And now Harry lay on the cold floor, aching, bleeding, and more terrified than he had ever been in his life. He wanted to give in to the blackness that tugged at his brain, beckoning him to blessed unconsciousness. But then there would be no way to escape or fight back.

But there was no way, anyhow, was there? He was completely helpless. All he could do was hope that somehow, someway, his friends would rescue him. And that seemed pretty close to impossible.

He gave up and let the blackness overwhelm him.

***

Severus sat at his chair at the teachers' table in Hogwart's Great Hall, his head in his hands. It was quiet now, after the almost frenzied activity earlier.

All the Order members had been there, except for Albus and Lupin, whom he didn't know how to contact. Minerva had immediately flooed back from her sister's home, pale and shaken at the news, but composed and determined, her eyes filled with such a fierce light that Severus had to admit to himself that he would not want to be the Death Eaters who had her on their trail.

The entire Weasley clan had been there, minus Charlie Weasley who was in Romania, and Percy Weasley who apparently was still siding with the Ministry. And Miss Granger and the young French woman from Beaxbatons Academy. Severus remembered hearing that she and Bill Weasley were engaged.

Kingsley, Tonks, Moody, and Fletcher had arrived in the middle of the meeting, having decided that they had done all they could do at the Burrow. Everyone had crowded around the table, all frantically thinking of places Harry might be, and trying to decide how to rescue him.

Now many of them had left. Minerva in her animagus form, was going to check out some of the Death Eaters' homes. Kingsley, Tonks, and Moody were doing the same. Fred and George Weasley had gone back to their joke shop to see if they had some object that could help with locating or tracking people. Mundungus Fletcher had left and no one knew where. No one much cared either.

Severus had sent the rest of the Weasleys, and Granger, off to the other end of the Hall to write down their memories of the last week, to see if they could remember noticing anything that seemed suspicious. He highly doubted they would, but he was tired of them hovering.

He himself was racking his brains, trying to think of what to do next. He could only pray that it wasn't too late already, that Potter was still alive. He had failed. Again. He had failed both Lily and Albus.

"I know you will keep Harry safe for us." Albus had said. But he hadn't. He had left Potter unattended, for Fletcher was useless, and Severus had known it, hadn't he? But he had been so tired. He had thought it was more dangerous for him to keep going without rest, and he had thought that surely things would be all right for a few hours.

But it was his mistake, and now Potter was missing. Perhaps dead. And if he were alive, Severus didn't want to think about what he was going through. He didn't like the brat, but he wouldn't wish torture on anyone.

Pain. So much pain. But he can't scream or even move. Only inside his mind. "Help me! Help me, Sirius! Help me, Mum, Dad! I need you!"

But of course no one comes. They're all dead, and soon he will be too. Right now he welcomes it. His tormentors dance around him, kicking, laughing, and one of them points a wand at him again, "Crucio!"

And beyond, even as he suffers, he sees Voldemort, smiling calmly, waiting for the perfect moment to end Harry's pain.

But there's more-the dias, the throne-like chair.

Severus leaped from his chair. He didn't know how in the world his mind and Potter's had connected. He'd never heard of such a thing happening before, but he had no doubt that that was what had happened. There would be time later to puzzle it out, though. Right now only one thing mattered.

He cast multiple Patronuses and demanded, "Find Minerva, Kingsley, and Moody. Tell them, "Return at once. I know where Potter is!"