Chapter One: Son

Harry opened his eyes. It was impossible to go to sleep. It would be bad enough if it was just the plane’s engines, but Dudley and Uncle Vernon were both snoring loudly. Aunt Petunia had earphones in and a sleep mask over her eyes – he couldn’t tell whether she was asleep or not.

This was the first time, he mused, the Dursleys had ever taken him on holiday with them. Shame they had to pick the summer following Voldemort’s return. The moment they arrived he would have to send an owl home to tell Dumbledore where he was – just in case.

Don’t be paranoid, he scolded himself. You’re turning into Moody. Voldemort has no idea you’re … He looked out of the window. In the middle of the ocean.

But it was always best to be safe.

Harry had first thought something was odd when Vernon squashed his trunk in with him instead of in the boot, as usual. Then he noticed that Dudley was clutching his full-to-bursting sports bag and Aunt Petunia had a cardboard box on her lap.

“Are we going somewhere?”

Vernon just grunted and climbed in the car. Petunia answered

“We’re going on holiday.”

“We?” Harry repeated, startled. “Me as well?”

“Yes. Now shut up, we don’t want to take a wrong turning.”

Harry had stayed silent, not sure what to think. A holiday with the Dursleys? Perhaps not as good as staying at the Weasleys’ for the summer, but it would hopefully be better than stuck in Privet Drive. And at least they seemed to have thought of taking him with them, instead of just dumping him on Mrs Figg. It was the thought that counted, right?

He sighed and leaned back in the plane seat. Something weird was going on, he could feel it. For a start, the Dursleys had always wanted to go to Majorca, and never anywhere else. But the plane was going to Greece. Secondly, he was pretty sure he didn’t have a passport. Vernon hadn’t let him see whatever it was he showed the guy at the airport. And thirdly, if they were only going on holiday, why did they have what seemed to be half the contents of Number Four with them? Harry had never been on holiday but he was pretty sure you didn’t usually take potted plants with you.

“Stella, wake up.”

The woman in the bed groaned and rolled over. Severus sighed. “Stella?” He leaned over and kissed her gently on the head. “I need to go.”

Stella opened one eye. “Where?”

“I don’t know. Albus says the Potter boy seems to have vanished. He wants me to help him find him.”

She sat up straight at that, brown tousled hair falling over her face.

“Harry’s vanished? How? When?”

“I don’t know,” Severus grumbled. “That’s what we need to find out. If the Dark Lord gets his hands on him -” He was broken off as Stella kissed him.

“I’m coming with you,” she said after they parted, standing shakily and feeling around for a dressing-gown.

“No you’re not. Stell. If he does have him, there could be a fight. I’m not letting you get involved in that.”

“Albus lets Minerva,” she said indignantly. “And you know how protective he is!”

“Minerva,” Severus replied, kissing Stella once one each cheek, “is not – to my knowledge – pregnant. (At her age, I doubt it.) And I’m sure if she was he wouldn’t. And I’m not letting you.”

Stella bristled. “I can still use a wand, thank you Severus! I am not completely inca – Mmph! Severus!”

“Not if you don’t have your wand,” he replied, waving it out of her reach.

“You are so childish sometimes, it’s a wonder you’re the father in this family.”

“Not yet,” Severus reminded her. “Until then, I’m keeping this.”

“Severus! Look, I know you don’t want anything to happen to me or the twins, but you’ve got to stop being so protective! I can look after myself and I want to help find Harry.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I care, that’s why. You’ve got your head so far up your -”

“Stella!”

“- you can’t see what a great kid he is,” she continued. “And talking of Harry, I have a bone to pick with you when you come back. When were you going to tell me you’re already a father? Albus mentioned it last night,” she added before Severus could open his mouth. “He mentioned that spell and explained it when I asked. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence. A long silence.

“HE SAID WHAT??”

“You didn’t bring Stella?” Albus asked, astonished. “I would have thought she would be here before you.”

Severus scowled. “She wanted to. But she’s not coming. Now, fill me in.”

Albus sighed. “The wards fell overnight. Harry hasn’t stepped in his house since last summer. We need to find out why, and where he is now.”

“And we’re doing that how?”

Albus steered him towards the Floo. “You first.”

Two minutes later the two wizards emerged, coughing, from Arabella Figg’s fireplace. Both declined the offer of chocolate cake and neither spoke on the short walk from her house to Privet Drive.

“Completely empty,” Severus declared, peering through a window. “Look, the basic furniture’s there but the other things – ornaments, plants, whatever, all those small insignificant things Muggles fill their houses with -”

“Severus, I don’t need a Muggle Studies lesson, I passed my NEWT with honours,” Albus said, a touch impatiently.

“- are gone. So what now?” Severus said, ignoring the last comment and stepping back, crushing the pansies.

Albus nodded at the woman across the road, pruning her hedges. “We ask the neighbours.”

“Give me a break,” Severus muttered.

“Excuse me!” Albus called, striding towards the Muggle. Severus groaned and followed reluctantly. “We’re looking for the Dursleys?”

“And their nephew,” Severus added. He might as well hurry this up.

Mrs Muggle looked them up and down curiously. “You’re too late, they did a runner yesterday. Said they were going to collect the boy from school and never left. They thought nobody noticed the suitcases.” She chuckled. “Idiots. I never liked them.”

“Why would they do a runner?” Albus asked.

“You mean you don’t know?” Severus wrinkled his nose as she took a drag from one of those horrible cigarette-things. “That boy of theirs got into trouble at school. Big trouble, this time.” She gleefully recounted the gossip. “Had a fight with this guy from the next neighbourhood. Knocked him out and ran for it. ‘Course, there were witnesses, and this guy got taken to ‘ospital. Next thing you know, the cops are knocking on that door -” she nodded at Number Four “- saying this guy’s dead. In a nice loud voice so we could all ‘ear. And their spoilt brat done for manslaughter. The trial’s supposed to be this week but they’ve obviously legged it.”

“Any idea where they might have gone?” Albus pressed.

She shrugged. “Not a clue. You can rule our Majorca though. They may be idiots but they’re not stupid enough to go to their favourite holiday place.”

Albus thanked her politely and they turned away.

“Well, that was really helpful,” Severus demonstrated his famous sarcasm. “Now what? If the wards are down -”

“- I know, we can’t use them to detect Harry’s whereabouts,” Albus sighed. He suddenly brightened. “But we can find out another way.”

“We can?”

Albus waited till the woman had her back turned then quickly opened the door of Number Four with his wand and they slipped inside. There was a telephone on the hall table. Albus picked up the receiver and started doing something to it with his wand.

“Hurry up,” Severus muttered. “For all we know the police could be here any minute.”

“I’m running through the numbers,” Albus replied. “Aha!”

“What?”

“This one’s to an airport … they’ve booked four tickets to Athens. Leaving last night.” He put down the phone.

“Perfect,” Severus muttered. He hated hot weather.

“You mean we’re not going back?”

“Clever,” Vernon growled. “Get out of my sight and help your aunt unpack.”

“But – but -” Harry stammered. “What about school?”

“There are plenty of good schools round here for Dudley to choose from, and I’m sure your kind has some other freaky place in this country somewhere -”

“I can’t just leave Hogwarts!”

“You already have! And don’t use that word in front of me again! When you’ve done your bit you can write to whoever is in charge of your schooling and sort it out yourself. I’m not signing any bloody bits of paper for you.”

Harry was speechless. The Dursleys had never liked him going to Hogwarts but after they had failed to stop him three summers running, he didn’t think they would actually do anything like this.

“But why -”

“Just do as you’re told, boy!”

Miles away, Severus was also thinking the same word.

“Why do we have to go the Muggle way, Albus?” he moaned. “Why do we even have to go at all?”

“To your first question,” Albus replied over the voice of the flight attendant, “we don’t want to attract unwanted attention.” Severus grumbled wordlessly. “And to your second …” he hesitated.

“Yes?”

“I have a gut feeling.”

“About what?”

“That something is wrong. Buckle up.”

Severus stopped moaning and did so.

The trip was long. Severus had never liked Muggle transport, but taking a Portkey was too risky and you couldn’t just Apparate to somewhere you had never been – you had to have a clear picture in your mind, or risk splinching. Severus had done that once as a teenager and had no wish to repeat the experience.

He managed to sleep for a while, but was jerked awake when the plane hit an air pocket. Slightly green, he had to breathe into a paper bag for a few minutes before he recovered. Folding it up and putting it in his pocket in case he needed it again, he spotted Albus staring out of the window, looking rather … unsure of himself.

“Albus?” he asked quietly. “Are you all right?”

“Severus … what if something’s happened to him?”

“What are you asking me for?” Severus was shocked at the tone of Albus’ voice. He never spoke like that.

“I … I’m worried,” Albus admitted. He was staring out of the window unseeingly. Severus could see his face reflected in the glass. “After last term … I swore to myself I wouldn’t let anything else happen to him.”

Severus was tempted to snort but it didn’t seem appropriate. “A pretty stupid thing to swear, if you ask me. How are you supposed to keep that promise?”

“I don’t know,” Albus said hollowly. “I just … I felt like I had failed him. After all I did to protect him he still managed to go through everything under Hogwarts’ roof and … I wanted to make myself think that there wouldn’t be any more. Because I don’t think I could take it otherwise.”

“Albus.” Severus was feeling uncomfortably out of his depth. The only person he had ever really spoken to about this sort of emotion was Stella. And they had only been together a year and a half. “He’ll be fine. In case you hadn’t noticed, Potter has a useful habit of getting himself out of difficult situations.” And into them, but this was not the best time to mention that.

“He has to fail at some point. He can’t keep escaping easily, Severus. One day -”

“- he will have to face the Dark Lord, and hopefully win,” Severus finished for him. “And then you will feel stupid for ever doubting him.”

“Severus, he’s just a child! Talented or not. He shouldn’t have to escape from these situations.”

“We don’t even know he is in a situation.”

“I told you, gut feeling. It’s never wrong.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“That’s what I was trying to say just now.”

“Albus, for goodness’ sake! I’m supposed to be the pessimist. You’re usually so bloody cheerful and optimistic it makes my senses hurt. What’s changed?”

Albus just shook his head. For a moment Severus thought he wasn’t going to reply. “It’s just …” Albus swallowed and Severus was stunned to see his usually bright eyes pained. “I lost a child once. I can’t lose another.”

Those two sentences would have made Severus go “Huh?”, but it wasn’t a very Severus thing to do. Instead, there was a long pause, before he said quietly, “What do you mean?”

Albus closed his eyes. After a moment he murmured, “Do you remember Emerald Brian? She started Hogwarts in your seventh year.”

Severus thought. “I remember the name. I can’t match a face though.”

“She ran away.” Albus heaved a sigh. “On her seventeenth. She didn’t even pack. Or say goodbye. She just left. We … Minerva and I … don’t even know for sure she’s still alive.” A tear managed to escape his eye.

“I … didn’t know,” Severus said awkwardly. After a moment he put a hand on Albus’ shoulder. “Sorry.” It seemed a stupid thing to say, but Albus accepted it.

“Thank you.”

Severus waited. Albus wiped his face with his sleeve and went back to staring out of the window.

“Albus.”

“Severus?”

“What I actually meant was … what do you mean by ‘another’?”

Albus sighed. “I’d have thought that was obvious.”

“You mean … the spell?”

The older wizard nodded. “You mean you never actually realised?”

“You mean that Potter has my DNA? Too right I never bloody realised. I had to find out from Stella this morning.” Severus cut himself off from the angry rant he wanted to throw at Albus – now didn’t seem a good time. “Why … why did she run away?”

“Because.” Albus seemed to debate answering before he said, “I wasn’t her father. Minerva was already pregnant when we married. I adopted her and we didn’t speak about it. Then she found out. And she hated me for it. She left.” He swallowed. “End of story.”

“You mean you didn’t tell her before she turned of age? That’s not like you, Albus. Why ever not?”

“The same reason I have never told Harry the truth.”

Back to Potter then. “Why’s that?”

Albus looked at him for the first time in minutes. “How do you tell someone they’re the child of the Dark Lord?”