It was all very well saying apologise to Snape, Harry mused three days later, but it was exceedingly difficult to do when the man didn’t show up anywhere.

He was never in his office, or his private potions lab, which was still covered in glass and congealing potions from when he and Sirius had been thrown out.  

He didn’t come to the Great Hall for meals, and he hadn’t shown up for any of his classes.

Professor McGonagall held him back after his Transfiguration class. “Have you and Mr Black apologised yet, Mr Potter?” she asked.

“I’ve been trying to, Professor, but I haven’t been able to find him,” Harry informed her, kicking at a nearby table leg in frustration. “Maybe Sirius had better luck.”  

“Not been able to find him?” Professor McGonagall repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Didn’t you have double Potions with Slytherin yesterday?”

“Professor Snape hasn’t shown up for any class for three days, Professor,” Harry said. Hadn’t she noticed her colleague was missing?

“Any? For three days?!” Professor McGonagall’s voice had risen, and her eyes were wide with alarm. “And nobody thought to mention this?”

“Umm . . .” Harry shuffled his feet, guiltily.

“Och, never mind,” Professor McGonagall said. She folded her arms. “No doubt you were all too happy to not have Potions.”

Harry felt himself blush. She was quite right – about the Gryffindors, at least. They’d all practically had a party every night to celebrate another Snape-less day.

“You may go, Mr Potter. I must go and see the Headmaster,” Professor McGonagall said, shooing Harry towards the door. “Perhaps he knows where Professor Snape has got to.”  

“Sirius?” Albus Dumbledore’s voice echoed around the cavernous kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. “Sirius, are you here? Si– ah, Sirius, my boy,” he said, as Sirius hurried into the kitchen. “I’m glad to see you’re here. May Professor McGonagall and I step through?”  

“Of course, Headmaster,” Sirius replied, tapping the fireplace with his wand to lower the Floo wards.

Dumbledore’s head disappeared from the fire, and seconds later he stepped through it, followed by McGonagall.

“Hello, Professor, Minerva.” Remus Lupin stood in the doorway. “Can I get you anything?”

“Ah, Remus, good. No, I’m afraid we don’t have time for anything. Have either of you seen Severus?” Dumbledore asked.

Remus looked surprised. “I’ve not seen him since he dropped off the last batch of potion for me.”

“Not since last week when we . . . ah, had words,” Sirius added. He looked abashed for a second, and then perked up. “Why? Have you lost him?”

“Sirius!” Remus elbowed him in the side, and he subsided.

“He seems to have disappeared. No-one’s seen him since your . . . words,” McGonagall explained, giving Sirius a stern look.

“He hasn’t been in any of his classes, and his lab and quarters are a mess of broken glass.” Dumbledore wrung his hands together. His eyes had lost their customary twinkle. “We also found blood in his quarters.”

“Maybe he’s with Voldemort,” Remus suggested quietly.

Dumbledore shook his head. “No, he always informs me when he’s summoned, and Harry hasn’t had any more visions lately.” His shoulders slumped. “I don’t know where else to look for him,” he said, sorrowfully.

Remus nudged Sirius in the ribs again, and tilted his head meaningfully in the direction of Dumbledore. When Sirius just gave him an uncomprehending stare, he gestured again, more vehemently, first at Dumbledore and then at the Floo, wrinkling his nose.

When Sirius still looked blank, Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Sirius can go and see what he can smell in Severus’ quarters,” he said.

“Me? In Snape’s quarters?! Not a chance!” Sirius squawked in alarm.

“Oh, my boy, that would be wonderful!” Dumbledore enthused. “I’m so very worried about Severus.”

“But . . . Snivellus will throw a fit if he finds out I’ve been anywhere near his rooms,” Sirius protested. “I don’t want him to take more points from Gryffindor!”

“Honestly, Sirius!” McGonagall scowled at him. “Haven’t you learnt your lesson about name-calling yet?”

“It’s just Snivellus,” Sirius muttered, sulkily, but he dropped his gaze from McGonagall’s.

“Sirius, if Severus hasn’t been seen since last week, then you and Harry were the last to see him,” Remus said. “Do you really want Harry to be questioned by Aurors over whether or not he had anything to do with Severus’ disappearance?”

Sirius sighed, and his shoulders drooped. “No,” he admitted. “Fine, then. Let’s get this over with.”

Dumbledore beamed at him before moving back to the fireplace. He took a pinch of Floo powder from the bronze container on the mantel, and dashed it into the fire.

“Professor Severus Snape’s quarters, Hogwarts,” he said, loudly and clearly, and stepped into the flames when they turned green.

“Doesn’t Severus have wards on his rooms?” asked Remus.

“Normally, yes,” McGonagall answered, moving towards the fireplace. “But when we went to investigate, all his wards had gone.”

An hour later, if the situation hadn’t been so serious, Remus would have laughed at Padfoot. If ever a dog was sulking, Padfoot was the image of it. He’d barely moved away from the fireplace and sat all hunched up. His ears were laid back, and he kept baring a front fang and sneezing. 

But for all that, he had at least sniffed the air and confirmed that no-one other than Severus had been in these rooms recently.

Which meant that the blood was Severus’.

“Could someone have been trying to get in?” wondered McGonagall. “Surely he wouldn’t have let someone in if they wanted to harm him.”

“A Death Eater, perhaps?” Remus suggested. “He couldn’t have kept them out for long without them getting suspicious.”

Padfoot gave a sharp bark and shook his head.

“No,” Dumbledore agreed. “He always let me know when one came to call on him.”

“An accident, then?” said McGonagall. “If he was angry enough, his magic could have broken free and shattered the glass. He could have been injured that way.”

“But then where is Severus now?” Dumbledore pointed out. “Why didn’t he just treat himself or go to Poppy? No, something happened . . .” He suddenly broke off and tilted his head, looking puzzled. “Someone is trying to get into my office,” he stated. “Someone not recognised by the wards. I must go.”

He looked at Remus and then down at Padfoot. “Thank you both for trying to help. I just hope Severus is all right.” With that, he turned and hurried out of the Potions Master’s quarters.

“So,” Remus started, turning to McGonagall. “Perhaps we could go and see Harry?”

Albus Dumbledore hurried up to his office, several floors above Severus’ quarters, using all the hidden passages that only the Head of Hogwarts knew about, enabling them to get from one side of the castle to the other in mere moments.  

Albus stopped short once he was in view of his office entrance. A boy stood before the gargoyle, his back to Albus. He appeared to be chatting to the stone guardian.

“I adore flying,” he was saying as Albus drew nearer. His voice seemed to fluctuate in both pitch and tone. Not as if his voice were breaking, but as if he had two different voices that spoke at once. Both of them sounded familiar to Albus, but he couldn’t place either of them.

“It’s just a shame I don’t have anyone to go flying with,” the boy continued. His voice changed again. “Mind you, Reggie’s useless on a broom, even if Mum didn’t coddle him.” The voice changed again. “I hate being an only child.”

Albus raised his eyebrows in surprise. There was something not quite right here. The boy’s magical signature was fluctuating just as wildly as his voice. Albus cleared his throat, gently. The boy whirled around, and Albus received another surprise.

The boy’s appearance was changing, too. His hair went from being long and lank, to long and bouncy, to long with a tuft sticking up at the back, although it remained a solid black colour. His eyes went from a warm hazel – which also brought a flicker of glasses with it – to a cool blue-grey, to a cold black. His skin went from a golden tan to a creamy pale to an unhealthy-looking sallow tone.

“Were you looking for me, dear boy?” Albus asked, eyeing him curiously. He was sure some of the boy’s features were changing too, but so slightly as to be almost unnoticeable.

“I don’t know,” the boy answered. He frowned in faint puzzlement and ran a hand through his hair. “I just found myself here. I’ve no idea why.”

“Well, if you come up into my office, I’m sure we can get things straightened out for you.” Albus turned to the gargoyle. “Jelly beans.” The stone creature obediently leapt aside, and Albus ushered the boy onto the revolving staircase, and up to his office.

“So,” he started, pressing the boy into a seat before his desk and then settling into his own. “Lemon drop?” The boy eagerly took one, but then looked at it as if he had no idea what it was. “Shall we start with your name?”

The boy placed the sweet on the edge of the desk and smiled at the headmaster.

“Sirius Potter,” he said. “Or maybe James Black.”

Albus’ mouth dropped open in shock.

As it happened, Professor McGonagall was still standing with Remus and Sirius when Harry joined them at the same moment as Fawkes. The bright red phoenix landed on her shoulder, sang a greeting to the others, and held out its leg for Professor McGonagall to take the attached letter. 

“Verra well,” she said to Fawkes, quickly reading the brief note. “We shall be there in a moment.” Fawkes gave a brief trill, cheeped at Remus, and then rose from Professor McGonagall’s shoulder to disappear in a bright flash of flame.

“Huh,” Sirius muttered. “Fawkes is usually friendlier than that.” Harry silently agreed. After rescuing him and the others from the Chamber of Secrets in his second year, Fawkes had always said hello to him whenever he’d had to see Dumbledore in his office.

Knowing he’d somehow upset Fawkes made Harry feel vaguely ashamed, even if he didn’t know why.

“If you gentlemen will follow me, the Headmaster has requested our presence,” Professor McGonagall said, interrupting Harry’s musing. He prepared to say goodbye to Sirius and Remus, but before he could get a word out, she carried on speaking. “You as well, Mr Potter. Come along, now.” 

Harry fell into step beside Sirius, wondering what Dumbledore wanted him for. As they all reached the gargoyle, and McGonagall uttered the current sweet-based password, Harry held Sirius back, allowing the other two to precede them up the revolving staircase.  

“Did you find any sign of Snape?” Harry asked, quietly.

“Some blood in his quarters, but otherwise, no,” Sirius said. He tried to smile confidently at Harry, but his shoulders twitched uneasily. “Just means you get to enjoy more Snape-free classes.”

“I guess.” Harry looked up, thinking he’d heard Remus call his name, but his response garnered nothing but mutters, so he turned back to Sirius. “What if it’s because of us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Sirius snorted. “We didn’t do anything to the greasy snake.”

“But we were mean, Sirius,” Harry said, anxiously. “Just like my cousin and his friends.”

“You are nothing like that whale of a cousin,” said Sirius, sternly, taking hold of Harry’s shoulders. “You’re a good kid. James and Lily would be proud. Now, let’s see what Dumbledore wants.” He gave Harry a slight push towards the office door.

Harry noticed, however, that Sirius had not said anything about their behaviour towards Snape.

Remus entered the Headmaster’s office a step behind McGonagall, but stopped dead as soon as he saw the person in front of Dumbledore’s desk.  

“Harry?” he spluttered, wondering how the boy had gotten there first. Harry’s response of “Yes?” floated up from behind them even as he realised his mistake.

Dumbledore’s visitor didn’t look like Harry, although Remus was sure there’d been more than a passing resemblance not two minutes ago. Now he looked more like . . .

“Siri?” he muttered, then shook his head. The visitor’s features changed subtly as Harry and Sirius entered the office.

“James?!” Remus exclaimed, almost in unison with Sirius, but then continued, “No, that can’t be right.”

The visitor’s hair was shoulder-length, as Sirius’ was, but part of it stuck up at the back, just as James’ had – and as Harry’s still did. His eyes had been shimmering between Sirius’ pale blue and James’ hazel, although Remus was certain he’d seen them flash to a solid black, along with a look of complete and utter terror, just as he’d entered the office. Now, however, Dumbledore’s mystery guest had one blue-grey eye and one hazel eye. He squinted slightly with the hazel eye, as though unable to focus with it.

“Albus, what . . . ?” McGonagall began, staring at the young man. “Who is this?”

“To be honest, Minerva, I have no idea,” Dumbledore replied.

“James Black, ma’am,” the stranger said to McGonagall. He held out a hand, and McGonagall stared at it for several seconds before taking hold of it. She gave it a firm shake and then let go, looking faintly puzzled.

“I swear I know that signature,” she murmured, more to herself than the room at large.

“What did you want to see us for, Headmaster?” Remus asked, keeping his gaze on James Black.

“I was hoping you might recognize him, or have an idea as to what happened,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. He looked towards his office door. “Ah, good, Poppy’s here. Maybe she can help.”

Remus moved aside as medi-witch Poppy Pomfrey bustled into the crowded room. She, too, looked surprised at the sight of the visitor, who rolled his eyes in a tantalisingly familiar way, but then gave her a smile that was pure boyish charm.

As Dumbledore explained the problem to Madam Pomfrey, Remus huddled with Harry and Sirius out of the way.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked softly. “Who is that guy?”

“Not a clue, kiddo,” Sirius answered. He shot a narrow-eyed look over to where Madam Pomfrey was now waving her wand over the young man and looking confused. “But we’ll get to the bottom of this, sooner or later.”