Minerva was sipping her cup of tea, perusing the Daily Prophet. Really, the people there really had nothing better to do, writing such garbage on the first page. “Harry Potter Kidnapped!,” it screamed. Minerva rolled her eyes. As if Albus would ever let such a thing happen. But now the whole wizarding world was thrown into a panic, and for what? One day’s worth of good publicity?

She incendio’d the paper, and turned to her book, 1984 by George Orwell, a Muggle who had surprising ideas of what the future looked like. She shuddered. If her world turned like that…well, she’d blast the instigator first. As if there was any chance now, anyways. Grindelwald was dead, and so was You-Know-Who. And the only wizard strong enough to do that was Albus, and well, she had him wrapped around her pinkie. If only he wasn’t so much older…

Never mind that. She had better things to think about, like that vacation in the Swiss Alps the week after next. The glorious mountain air, the fresh, crisp snow on the mountaintops…

“Oomph!” Minerva was bowled over. What in the world…?

“Stupid owl,” she muttered. “Arabella ought to replace you. Can’t even see right, can you?”

Obviously irritated, she snatched the letter from the owl, and Ginger loudly protested. “Go away, you dumb bird,” she exclaimed. “Oh, all right, here’s your treat.”

With a hoot, Ginger flew out the window, forgetting that Arabella had expected a reply. Minerva opened the letter asking about Harry. She sighed. When did friends actually ask about her nowadays? Not that she could fault the poor child. But where was the child? He’d been gone for a week now, and all Albus would ever do was twinkle his eyes at her. And of course, she’d melt. Great, really, just great. She really had to get out of the habit of remembering Albus with every daydream or memory. It was getting downright annoying.

 Maybe she should ask Severus? He seemed to be privy to Albus than she was, these days. Probably because Albus so desperately loved him, she chided herself. Why, that man was like his own son! She couldn’t fault Severus for that…but at the same time, Severus seemed to be taking all the attention away from her. What was she, fifteen? She really had to get control of her emotions. Damn Albus for doing this to her!

Oh, well. She’d just have to see Severus first, to see if he knew anything. Not that he was likely to tell her…but she could try, couldn’t she?

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When Severus went to wake Harry, he was astonished to see the boy practicing magic, or rather, producing accidental magic, again. Somehow, the boy had managed to change the room’s colours. And not normal colours either. No, Harry’s room was flashing, and Severus was sure if he stayed one more minute in that room, he’d get a seizure.

He quickly incanted, “Finite Incantem!” Nothing happened. Was his so-Harry that strong? Digging through his memory, he finally found a spell that worked. Harry, meanwhile, had been woken by the noise.

 “Dada? What’chu doin’?” he said, and then yawned.

“The better question, imp, is what you’ve been doing,” said Severus.

“Me do nottin, Dada,” replied Harry, his eyes wide. “Dada mad?”

“Dada – Severus isn’t mad, Harry,” said Severus. Damn! Why did he keep slipping up? He wasn’t the boy’s father, nor did he want to be. Damn the boy and his eyes!

“Dada’s upset,” said Harry, this time as a statement. “Dada no like me no more.”

“Harry, I like you fine.” Seeing as this couldn’t appease the boy, he added, “C’mere, imp. Come sit on my lap.”

Harry scrambled on to Severus’s lap, and snuggled. “Harry, I love you very very much. So don’t you dare say that I don’t love you.”

“Dada, me love you too,” said Harry. Severus was too awestruck to correct little Harry’s grammar.

They sat like this for a while, until Severus remembered that he had dinner waiting downstairs. He looked down at Harry. “Little imp, how would you like pasta for dinner?”

“What pa –ta?” asked Harry. “Is  yum-yum?”

“Yes, Harry, it’s very good. Now, if you don’t get off my lap, you won’t get any…”

“No, me go, me go! Me want pa – ta!” And off Harry went, Severus following behind him.   

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Remus and Dumbledore were all dusty from their search, which unfortunately, hadn’t unearthed anything. They had gone through everything – all the Potter heirlooms, the will, James’s journals…nothing. But then again, hadn’t Lily mentioned her diary in the memory? It certainly wasn’t in here. That was their last hope now. But where could she have put it? Godric’s Hollow had contained nothing, and surely Lily wouldn’t have put it there…not if she had known the dangers. Which she had, given the look she had given James and Sirius.

This was so frustrating! Why did Lily have to be so smart? Remus growled, and his stomach echoed in agreement. Dumbledore looked up, his eyes twinkling. “Shall we go for lunch and call it a day, my boy?”

“A day wasted means another day Sirius is stuck in that hellhole, Headmaster!” answered Remus vehemently. “I can survive hunger; I’ve done it before.”

“Ah, but this old man here isn’t so sure he can,” replied Dumbledore, his eyes again twinkling. Remus almost swore, knowing that Dumbledore was giving up for the day because of him. “No, really, I’m fine, Headmaster.”

“But I insist,” replied Dumbledore. “Why don’t we go for a quick lunch and come back?”

“All right,” Remus said, grudgingly. “But only for half an hour, and no more.”

“Whatever you say, dear boy,” said Dumbledore, cheerfully, and the two of them walked out of Gringotts.

Suddenly, Remus stopped.  What if – what if Lily had placed the diary in Sirius’s vault? After all, no one would ever think to look there. “Headmaster, I think we should go back and look…this time, in the Black vault.”

“Splendid idea, my boy. But first, we should go eat. Now…maybe a hamburger in the Muggle world? Who was it that introduced me? Anyhow, come, Remus. You’ll love them, I’m sure,” said Dumbledore.

True to the old man’s words, Remus did enjoy them – immensely. Had the matter at hand not been so urgent, he would have easily devoured at least two more. As it was, he had finished three when Dumbledore asked him if he was ready to leave.

“Of course!” Remus jumped up, vowing that he’d be back someday to eat to his heart’s content – with Sirius. His best friend would enjoy them, he was sure. In fact, he was a bigger eater than Remus, a hard feat indeed.

Soon, they had reached Vault 711, Sirius’s bank vault. When it opened, Remus was again struck with awe at how much the Black family actually had. It was amazing how much money a person could have, really.

“My boy, are you done gazing at the piles of Galleons?” asked Dumbledore mildly, causing Remus to blush intensely. “Now tell me, where did you find the memories?”

“Where he said they would be,” answered Remus. “But that wouldn’t affect Lily’s decision to place it anywhere near them.”

“No, but perhaps Sirius knew that Lily’s journal was there,” answered Dumbledore. “Was it perhaps by that chair over there?”

Remus stared at him in horror. How exactly had he known? “No, my boy, I am not skilled in Occlumency. I remember Lily liked that chair…the only thing she ever liked at 12 Grimmauld Place,” said Dumbledore, his eyes practically flashing. Remus felt ill, all of a sudden.

“If I remember correctly, there was a hidden spring here that would trigger a compartment…aha!” said Dumbledore. “Help me with this, Remus. I’m getting far too old for this sort of work.”

Remus pulled, and exclaimed, “It’s a letter, Headmaster. From Lily.”