“Azkaban?” Severus queried. “Really?”

“Yes.” Umbridge confirmed excitedly. “Charges have been filed against the boy for performing magic on his aunt.”

“That happened two and a half years ago, did it not?” The question was asked in a curious tone, but Severus knew that Umbridge could only be referring to the incident with Marjorie Dursley. He also remembered the incident because he had originally thought that Potter inflated Petunia Dursley, and the mental image of Lily Potter’s odious sister bobbing around in the air for several hours had put him in quite a good mood.

Umbridge nodded. “The Minister, being the benevolent man that he is, was more concerned for Mr. Potter’s safety at the time. You may remember that the illegal magic was performed during the summer that Sirius Black escaped.”

Severus pursed his lips. “I do.”

“Of course, no one knew then that the boy was just as dangerous and deranged as Black. But things are quite different now, and the Minister is no longer willing to overlook Mr. Potter’s many transgressions. He agrees with me that now is the time to act.”

“How fortunate for you, then, that the Headmaster is away.” Severus murmured.

“Yes, it will be lovely not to have Dumbledore interfering, for once.” Umbridge agreed. “The Minister is coming to Hogwarts tonight with several of our most-skilled Aurors. Typically, he would also be accompanied by dementors, but as Mr. Potter is clearly capable of repelling them…” Her face twisted slightly, and Severus was sure that she was remembering the Minister’s failed attempt to have Potter expelled over the summer. Several seconds passed before the woman gave a little laugh and said, “Well, no matter. Mr. Potter will not fare nearly as well against the dementors once his wand has been snapped.”

Severus said nothing to that. Umbridge seemed to take his silence as acquiescence, for she piled a third serving of treacle tart onto her plate and began to chatter in normal tones about a pair of ornamental plates she had purchased as a Christmas gift for herself. As before, she failed to notice that the Potions professor was completely ignoring her. This was fortunate for Severus, who was furiously trying to find a way to save the student he loathed more than any other.

One thing was certain, and that was that Umbridge must not suspect her colleague when the Ministry’s plans were foiled. For Severus had already determined that he would sing Christmas carols in Hell before he allowed Potter to be thrown into Azkaban for a bout of accidental magic that had been committed more than two years ago. In the interest of not rousing Umbridge’s suspicions, however, Severus poured himself more pumpkin juice and lingered over his empty plate for an additional fifteen minutes. Then he excused himself and exited the hall at a steady pace. As it was unlikely that Potter would have actually returned to the dungeons of his own accord, Severus headed for the only other place that the boy seemed to like these days.

Harry had recovered from his latest bout of angst and was debating how best to avoid Snape when he heard footsteps outside the room. The door opened a second later, and the boy found himself facing an obviously peeved professor. As Snape strode across the room, Harry wished he had thought to at least pull out a book so that he could pretend to have been studying. Instead, he was left struggling to find an excuse for his disobedience.

“I-” He began.

“Were you seen?” Snape interrupted him.

“Sir?”

“Did anyone see you come up here?”

Taken aback, Harry frowned and shook his head. “No, sir.”

“The halls were completely empty?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Snape stepped closer, and Harry suddenly wondered if it was such a good thing that no one else knew where he was. It was a well-known fact that Severus Snape was quick to punish those who disobeyed him, and Harry would not have put it past the man to perform some vile hex on him. When the first item that Snape retrieved from his cloak was his wand, Harry scrambled backward across the bed and reached into the pocket of his jeans for his own wand. However, the next item that Snape retrieved made Harry pause. The young wizard held out his wand cautiously and watched as Snape tapped the tip of his wand to the empty vial in his other hand.

“Portus.” Snape muttered. He looked up at Harry and sneered. “Put that wand away, Potter, and come over here.” Harry hesitated, and the professor snarled, “Now, Potter!”

Harry gathered up his courage and said, “I’m quite alright where I am, sir.”

“Merlin save me from dunderheads!” Snape growled. He then leaned forward, grabbed Harry by the wrist, and slapped the boy’s hand onto the vial. There was an unpleasant tug behind Harry’s navel, and then he was gone.

Ron Weasley could say with absolute certainty that this was, by far, the worst Christmas break he had ever had.

First, his father was attacked by a giant snake while on official business for a covert organization whose mission was to vanquish one of the darkest wizards of all time. Then, he learned that the attack may or may not have been committed by his best friend while under the control of said dark wizard. Now he was stuck in a dark, creepy old house with a deranged house-elf, a shrieking portrait, and six people who would not stop asking him about Harry. It definitely did not help that one of the inquisitors was the most clever and determined witch that Ron had ever met.

“I just don’t understand it.” Hermione said for the twentieth time in three days. “Why doesn’t Harry want to be with us? I mean, everyone wants him here, and I think your mum is actually a bit hurt that he didn’t come with us.”

Ron shrugged and looked down at his hands. He could feel Hermione’s stare and inwardly groaned when she settled next to him on the settee.

“Fred and George said that you and Harry were in Dumbledore’s office before they were.” Hermione said. “I know Dumbledore’s been somewhat aloof toward Harry this term. Did he say anything that would have made Harry want to stay at Hogwarts?”

“No.” Ron said immediately. “No, Dumbledore barely spoke to Harry at all. He was sort of busy, you know, with getting everyone together and making sure we could stay with Sirius.”

Ron looked up just enough to see Hermione nod slightly and then frown in concentration. Since that look was almost always followed by some clever deduction on Hermione’s part, Ron decided that it might be best to leave.

“I think I’ll just go see what Fred and George have got into.”

The youngest Weasley boy had barely risen from his seat when Hermione whipped her head around and asked, “Did you say something to him?”

Ron froze. “What?”

Hermione jumped up and stared at him. “You did, didn’t you? You said something to Harry before the others got there, something that made him stay at Hogwarts.” She put her hands on her hips and thrust her face into his. “What did you say to him?”

“I-”

“What did you tell him?” Hermione screeched.

Ron looked up at his friend and gulped. Then he remembered how his father had looked when Ron first saw him in the hospital, and what Harry had said the night of the attack. Struck by a sudden bout of anger and bravado, Ron leapt from the settee and glared down at the girl standing before him.

“Harry told me that he was the snake, Hermione!” He yelled. “What would you have done in my place? Let someone near your family who may be possessed by You Know Who?”

Hermione glowered at him, momentary speechless for the first time that Ron had known her. Then her face colored in rage.

“You are the biggest idiot I have ever met!” She screamed, then whirled on her heel and stormed out of the parlor.

Ron dropped back down onto the settee, put his head in his hands, and groaned. He knew it did not bode well for him that he had never before seen Hermione’s face turn such a deep shade of red.

After Harry had finished sneezing for the umpteenth time in an hour, he removed himself from the dusty armchair and glared around the equally dusty room. The armchair was the only piece of furniture not draped with a sheet, and that was only because Snape had jerked the sheet off right before pushing Harry into the chair.

“You will stay in this room until I return.” Snape had ordered after casting a spell that locked the door leading from the sitting room to, presumably, another part of the house.“If I find that you have so much as breathed on anything other than the chair upon which you are now sitting, you will spend the rest of the holidays under a binding spell.”

With that, Snape had grabbed the vial-turned-Portkey and disappeared.

Now, an hour later, Harry was no closer to figuring out what was going on than he was when they had first arrived. Why was he here? Where was here, anyway? Had Snape gone back to Hogwarts, and when would he return? Most importantly, why had Snape taken Harry’s wand before leaving?

Harry was most anxious about not having his wand. He hoped that Snape had only taken it to prevent Harry from leaving the room, because the only other explanation he could think of was that the professor wanted to render him defenseless. Harry had no idea what he would do if the latter were true and Snape planned to hurt him. Of course, maybe Snape was not planning to do anything to Harry at all. Maybe the former Death Eater, whose loyalties Harry found himself questioning more often than not, was planning to deliver the boy to Lord Voldemort.

“That can’t be true, though.” Harry reasoned. “I’ve been alone with Snape for the better part of three days. If he was planning to hand me over to Voldemort, wouldn’t he have done it before now?”

Harry sat back down and sighed. He was becoming rather sick and tired of feeling like he was not in control of his own life. Would it really be too much trouble for someone to just tell him something?

Normally, such musings would have only angered Harry. Right now, though, he was far too tired to conjure up emotions of any kind. Instead, he leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and began to mutter insults at the absent Potions professor. He had barely made it past the more creative names that the Weasley twins had invented for Snape before lapsing into sleep.

Severus spent an hour pretending to look for Potter before going to Umbridge’s office. His next actions were critical, and he took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

Once admitted entrance, Severus opened the door and faced Umbridge.

“Ah, Severus.” The woman looked up from a cup of tea and smiled at him. “How may I help you?”

Resisting the urge to hex the witch and incinerate her blasted collection of mewing plates, Severus smoothly began the lie that would spare Potter a trip to Azkaban.

“In light of our recent conversation, I thought you should be the first to know that Mr. Potter appears to have vanished.”