In my rooms later that night, I start to pace in an attempt to figure out what my next action is. I know that I should go and speak with Harry about what I did, but I cannot head in that direction. I then glance at the clock on my wall. My eyes narrow on it. Something was happening today, but I cannot recall what. I draw in a deep breath before walking towards the doors. It doesn't take me long before I reach Harry's room, but I can already feel that he isn't in there. I growl as I think about the recent attacks on several students. The headmaster has already alerted the students to the danger, but knowing Harry as well as I do I just know the silly little fool probably got himself into danger yet again.

Deciding that it would probably benefit me in the end, I walk into Harry's room and head straight to his nightstand. I recall the fact that the boy has been writing frequently in a notebook of his since the start of the term. I open the drawer and grab the little black book. I skim the last entries, which detail some of his recent exploits. My eyes narrow when I read 'I wished it would shut up. I don't understand what it wants from me. I'm just a boy. I can't help it, and I know if I tell anyone the person will think I've gone nutters. The voice wants something from me, but I can't give it what it wants.'

Just what does it want? I ponder before noticing the smeared blood on the sides of the entry. I feel my heart leap at the sight. For the life of me, I cannot recall him injured lately. That is other than the beating that my foolish idiots did the first night. He's hearing something that only he can hear. Could it be? Could the Dark Lord truly have returned? It is the only idea that makes the slightest bit of sense. I push thought aside and cast a location charm on Harry.

It doesn't take long before the charm finds Harry. I follow it back out of Harry's room and further down the corridor into the deeper recesses of the dungeons. I knew the boy had explored the dungeons, but I admit that I never could have guessed it would be to this extent. Nearly a half hour later, I find myself in a corridor that has collapsed partially. The charm shows me that Harry is just beyond the collapsed wall. A wave of emotions underneath my barriers bubble to the surface, but I quickly shove the emotions back. I know in my heart that Harry was underneath the rubble. It is just those stupid absurd feelings again.

"Snape," a familiar voice speaks behind me. I whirl around and glance at Draco. "Is something wrong?" I shake my head and only stare at him. I can see the uneasiness in him. He knows something.

"Speak," I say gruffly.

"About what?" he responds feigning his innocence.

"Mr. Malfoy," I hiss in my lowest and deadliest voice. That voice makes everyone spill.

"I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him since last night at dinner. He was rather quiet last night again, but I didn't think anything of it because he sometimes gets that way after coming back from wherever he goes. I don't know where that is exactly, but I know that it's wet there. He always comes back soaked. Sometimes he's bleeding while other times he comes back fine. He doesn't tell me, though. Honestly, Snape, I don't know where he is. Please…I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. Please, Snape," Draco says with a slight whimper. I can see the fear in his eyes.

"And these voices he hears?"

"I haven't heard about any of that. You might ask Weasley and Granger. They might know. I mean, it's not like Harry and I are best friends or anything."

"I shall speak with them at once. You, Mr. Malfoy, better hope that I do not learn that you do know where Mr. Potter is," I growl. Truthfully, I am not angry with Draco. Hell, I'm not even truly angry with Harry for running off like the little fool he is. If I were truly honest with myself, I'd admit that I'm alarmed that neither Draco nor I have seen Harry. I've learned with experience that if I do not see the boy at least once a day, then trouble is soon to follow. I can only imagine what horrific things I am going to stumble upon, whether that is his broken body at the bottom of the stairs or his petrified body lying in a lake of bathroom water.

I draw in a breath to steady myself emotionally before heading towards Gryffindor Tower. I feel some compassion for the two Gryffindors I am about to pounce upon, but only some. If those two fools helped Harry at all, then they will suffer terribly. I cannot lose him. I cannot lose Harry. He is my last living connection to Lily. If I lose him, I lose everything. I briskly walk to the staircases. So far, hope is on my side. There is no broken boy lying at the bottom of the stairs. Hope will save Harry and me.