Hi Sev, it's me… Mae. Listen, it's about two in the afternoon and I'm actually calling you from Harry's room.

Soooo, you're probably wondering why I'm here… Um… the thing is… Isabella called Dr Swanson this morning because Harry had an… incident… on his way back to his room from the Hub. He kind of fell and got a pretty hefty bruise on his leg when he hit the floor and he pulled his IV out by… Well, I'm not exactly sure how that happened. He's ok, though! Physically, at least, but Dr Swanson asked me to come by to stay with him until you got here.

See, the truth is - yes, Harry, of course I'm going to tell him the truth - Dr Wright said Harry had a panic attack when he tried to help him up off the floor. He was still pretty irate when I showed up, and kept going about a message his friend sent him on that same coin thingy I found a while back, and he needed to go to the school because something bad had happened. I'm sure he sounded a bit… crazy… to anyone who doesn't already know about your stuff.

Anyway, Dr Swanson gave him some medication to help him relax, which helped, and then she asked me to stay put until we hear back from you. That was a couple of hours ago, though, and the longer we wait, the more worried he's… ok, we… are getting. I tried to tell him he probably misunderstood the message or something, but then he's been trying to get a hold of you, or his friends, since then and no one's answered him yet.

Well, I hope you get this message and contact us soon, so we know you… you're safe.

I love you, Severus.

~~~~HP~~~~

"Are you sure you called him?"

Harry sat in the chair next to Mae, pulling and twisting the series of hospital bands on his right wrist until they left a red line on his skin. But he didn't care because one thing completely consumed his mind: how long had it been since Snape and Hermione's incomplete messages.

"Yes, Harry. You were sitting right next to me when I made the call, remember?" Mae put her hand on his knee to keep it from bouncing, just like Snape did when Harry was nervous. A thick lump formed in the back of Harry's throat because of the familiar, almost loving movement. "But… maybe he hasn't heard it yet. The more I think about it, I know for a fact I'm dialling a local number, but he's, you know, in Scotland… so-"

"He gets your calls," Harry interrupted her. Throughout the afternoon, her optimism irritated him more than it should have, especially considering she had taken the off work to "babysit" him after he had fallen - not fainted as Dr Michael originally claimed - earlier. "Listen, I know he gets your messages," Harry continued. "Sure, you're calling our house phone in Cokeworth, so he can't physically answer your call, but I've seen the transcripts pop up. They appear no matter where he is - or, I guess, technically, where his wand is. Haven't you ever wondered why you can't reach him unless he calls you back?"

Mae cocked her head to the side. "I guess I always assumed he was just busy."

Harry's chest tightened as he remembered his long-winded description of Snape's hectic life to Dr Michael. How could he have forgotten Snape was also amid a new relationship, most likely his first, and with a muggle, no less? It added a whole extra layer of complexity that Harry was secretly relieved he didn't have to deal with.

With a wince, Harry rose from his chair and began his best attempt at pacing in the space between the whiteboard and the foot of his bed. His body hurt more than ever, but the pressure inside his chest made sitting unbearable, so he hoped moving around would help to ease it. "Don't get me wrong, he's definitely busy," the young wizard made clear, "but you have to figure if you ever called him early or late, when he wouldn't be in classes, or on the weekends, you should have got him at least once since September."

"True."

"So, it means he's not getting your messages now and something probably happened to his wand because I'm positive they come from there," Harry proceeded, never so much as looking up at her. "Or he is getting them, but he can't physically respond to them. There isn't any other reasonable explanation for why he hasn't contacted me on my galleon, gone home by now to call you back, or simply showed up here. Whatever the reason, though, it means he's in danger."

Mae moved as if she was about to join Harry in his pacing, but she stopped herself. Instead, she faced him head on and leaned forward with her forearms resting on her thighs.

"Let's say you're right about what you read from your friend." She clapped her hands together at the same time Harry rolled his eyes. "What could honestly happen that your… gift… cannot handle?"

What started as a small sarcastic chuckle in the back of Harry's throat grew into a sinister-sounding laugh as he reflected on all the dangers he'd encountered since first arriving in the Wizarding World.

"Great question," he spat once he regained control of himself. "Magic can't fix everything… I know Severus told you that much. And it didn't stop a professor from bringing a dark wizard into the school, or a basilisk from hiding in a secret chamber under the school. I suppose in a way it kind of helped keep the three-headed dog asleep-"

"Like Cerberus?!"

"- but it didn't do shite to stop the alleged mass murderer from breaking into my dorm room, or stop a student from exploding a snitch during a Quidditch game last year. In fact, naming them all out like this, for all the good my gift can do, it's been pretty useless in saving my life. Maybe your lot is right and magic is evil."

As the gravity of his words hit him, Harry paused. He gripped the bottom rail of his bed to support his exhausted body, feeling short of breath because of his rant and mediocre pacing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mae watching him diligently, probably to make sure he didn't fall again. Thankfully, she never left her seat.

Defeated, Harry's voice was barely above a whisper as he explained, "So you asked, what could possibly go wrong there? A shite ton of stuff, that's what."

For the longest time, the only sound filling the space between them was the ticking of the clock on the wall behind him, each tick representing another second Snape hadn't contacted them. In his mind, he begged for Mae to break the silence before he told her something he'd later regret. But he knew she wouldn't. Like Snape, as long as it did not hurt him, she'd leave him alone to untangle his thoughts and feelings on the subject. Unfortunately, all of those led to the same place: the various scenarios in which Snape could be in danger.

"Did Severus ever mention the term Death Eaters to you?"

Harry, caught in his own worry, asked the question long before he realized he shouldn't have. There was no way to sugarcoat the term Death Eater if Snape hadn't already told her, leaving him in a precarious situation of having to explain it. She nodded her head, even though her face paled by two shades.

"Oh good," he sneered, then resumed his frantic pacing. "At least you have some idea of what we're… or what he's… up against. I know he hasn't told me everything about what's been going on, but he said someone followed him the last time I was stuck here.

"What if whoever is out there doing all this… stuff… found a way into the school? What if they've taken him away, and are torturing him while we sit here on our arses waiting for a phone call here that no one there knows how to make? Well, Tonks and Remus have been here before… and even if Tonks is off working in Azkaban this week, she's an auror, so she'll find out at some point and hopefully come to tell me? What if they're holding him under a Fidelius charm? They'll never find him until someone wants him found! What if-"

Seemingly out of nowhere, Harry's nervous rambling was cut short by his door bursting open without even a warning knock. The young wizard - who had been about to lecture the incoming nurse on how to respect his privacy - let out a loud gasp at the sight of Snape standing in the doorway. Instantly, his almost crippling fear transformed into pure relief. Despite a bandage wrapped around his head and a noticeable limp in his step, Snape races across the small room to wrap Harry in the tightest hug he'd ever given. He was injured, but alive and mostly well, not being tortured into insanity by the Cruciatus curse in some unplottable location.

"I thought you were…" Harry trailed off, unable to finish the horrifying images he'd been carrying around in his head for the last several hours. "I've been messaging you…"

"I lost my galleon," Snape quickly offered his rather reasonable explanation. "And until Mae's call, I didn't know you'd heard anything about what happened this morning. To be honest, this whole time I believed you'd assume I was stuck in class."

Harry hugged the man even tighter. "She called you hours ago."

"I promise you, Harry," Snape said earnestly, "as soon as I realized my mistake, I tried to get here. By that point, I was already in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey kept adding on parts of me to heal… likely to keep me in the hospital wing because I refused to stay overnight. Then once I was out of there, Kingsley needed my statement." He held Harry out at arm's length. "I'm here with you now, I'm alive, and I am so sorry I worried you… both of you."

When Harry turned around, he noticed Mae approaching them. As he took a step to the side to give the couple some space, he saw the same relief he felt inside reflected in Mae's expression as she looked at Snape.

"Thank you for staying with him," Harry heard Snape whisper to his girlfriend as they stepped over to the sofa, sitting so close together Harry doubted a piece of parchment could fit between them. Rather than attempting to wedge himself on the other side of the furniture, Harry sat back down in the recliner, opening it up to the perfect position to help ease the pain in his sore body.

"So what happened today?" Harry asked, unsure if he really wanted to hear about what had obviously been serious enough for someone like Snape to be harmed. "Hermione said something… something big… was in the castle. Are they alright? She said they were hiding in the library… it was the last message I got from her and no one responded to me since."

Snape rested his balled-up fists on the top of his knees. The change in his posture - from calm to uneasy - made Harry's palms sweat. "I suspect Hermione also lost her galleon in the chaos, which explains why she hasn't responded to you."

Anyone could tell the professor had chosen those opening words - those exact words - with care. "But- but they're ok, right?"

"Everyone will survive."

Harry's heart raced at the second, equally guarded response. He closed his eyes, pretending that not being able to see Snape as he asked his next question would make it easier for him to accept the answer. "Who? And how bad?"

"Draco." Harry let out a small whimper as soon as the word left Snape's mouth. Somehow, deep down, he knew it had been Draco. "He endured the worst of the assault towards the students. Madam Pomfrey summoned a St Mungo's Healer to assist and consult with her on his care. I won't lie to you, Harry. He's in critical condition. I expect he'll be at the hospital wing until at least next week, but, at least as of today, Madam Pomfrey is confident he'll make a full recovery."

Harry nodded mindlessly as Draco's words from two days ago came back to him:

It's a lot of shite and while you two might be used to a year like this, I am not… I love Hermione and I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with her by my side… no matter how long, or short, I might have left.

On paper, Harry was aware of everything Draco had been involved in this term. In reality, though, he felt further away from his friends than he had ever felt before. He'd been too distracted by being pulled out of all his classes and spending over a week per month hidden away in a muggle hospital - then spending the rest of the month feeling like the Knight Bus ran him over three times - to appreciate the magnitude of what the Slytherins, both Draco and Snape, confronted in such a short timeframe. It reminded Harry of the difficulties he faced during his fifth year, back when every week seemed to go from bad to worse and no one understood the constant anguish it caused him.

Snape took advantage of Harry's lack of follow-up questions to tell them everything that happened at the school. He began with all the details about the creature itself - a draugr, one of the many dark creatures Harry didn't recognize - and then moved on to how the beast broke down his classroom door, his heroic two-story jump to follow it to the library where he crossed paths with Harry's friends, and finally, arriving at the Great Hall. The longer he went on, the more it sounded like an excerpt out of an adventure book rather than a horrific attack his future father and friends had survived. And if he had difficulty comprehending it, he could only imagine Mae's internal thoughts on it - none of which she shared during the story outside of a quick swipe of her wrist to clear a stray tear here or there.

"Did anyone else get hurt?" Harry inquired after Snape had completed the part where Professor Flitwick, of all people, spelt the headless beast into the Great Hall fireplace. If Harry were honest, after his outburst about magic failing to protect him, he almost wished he'd been there to witness his professors' amazing spellwork.

"We had one casualty," Snape lamented. "The draugr attacked Firenze not long before I arrived at the library. The only solace I have is that, based on his wounds, he most likely did not suffer for long."

Another lump in Harry's throat grew at an alarming rate. "He had no actual way to protect himself from the dr- dru- draugr."

"No." Snape slowly shook his head. "Nothing substantial, anyway. For what it's worth, I'm confident he diverted the draugr's attention to the outside of the library, allowing the students inside to take cover. The injuries sustained would have been far more severe and numerous without his sacrifice."

Harry twisted uncomfortably in the recliner, weighing the words Snape said. Although Harry understood how Firenze taking the Divination post for Trelawny in his fifth year ultimately caused the final turmoil between the centaur and his herd, he still carried the guilt over his role in their initial hostility towards the former Divinations professor. If Firenze hadn't saved Harry from Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest in his first year, he might not have agreed to Dumbledore's teaching offer in the first place.

"So what now?" Mae eventually asked. "Will the school close during the investigation? Will all the students go home?"

Harry snorted. "I doubt the aurors, our magical police, were even called to the school. Hell, they'll probably be back in class tomorrow morning."

"They wouldn't," Mae exclaimed, taken aback. "A teacher was murdered! You can't just carry on as if nothing happened?!"

Harry started to dramatically count on his fingers. "Quirrell, Lockhart… I guess he didn't die, exactly, he just couldn't finish out the year and is now permanently living in St Mungos. Lupin had problems outside of his control-" Harry glared over to Snape, not over how the other Snape had their best Defense professor fired, "- and the Moody-Crouch combo definitely died, but since the Ministry ordered it, maybe he doesn't count. And I'd argue Umbridge should have-"

"Harry!" Snape admonished the Gryffindor. "That's enough."

"It's true." He shrugged, never one to hide his contempt for Hogwarts' most despised professor.

"If it's any consolation, the aurors arrived by the end," Snape declared loudly. "I'm not sure if they intend to fully investigate or not, but if Draco required the expertise of an outside healer, I doubt Lucius will let this one go."

"Well, good for him!" Snape's eyes widened at Harry's enthusiasm. "Someone has to question these things! Nobody gave a damn about the stuff I went through year after year. It's about bloody time for someone to speak up and if anyone can get their attention, even if it's for purely selfish reasons, it'll be Lucius."

"I do not doubt that," Snape flatly remarked.

As the night progressed, Harry's spirit rose, almost erasing his previous depressing mood, even though physically he felt completely exhausted with each passing hour. Dr Swanson stopped by where, much to Harry's chagrin, she told Snape every detail from his earlier 'episode'. As fortunate as he felt nothing major would come of it, Harry doubted he'd ever show his face in group therapy again. She gave him another thorough exam, checking on his bruised leg and port placement, before outlining the rest of his inpatient stay, including the possibility of him going home before the weekend; as early as tomorrow night or Thursday morning, if his blood counts remained stable. The news gave them something positive to focus on during the turmoil caused by the draugr attack, and they spent the rest of the night playing muggle card games taught to them by Mae.

By the time Harry returned to his bed for the night, his eyelids were so heavy he figured had a decent chance of sleeping through the nurses' overnight checks.

"If Albus doesn't cancel tomorrow's classes tomorrow, I likely won't be able to make it here until after dinnertime," Snape said disappointedly as he rearranged Harry's green - now slightly Slytherin green if he saw it the right light - blanket around him. "If he cancels classes, I'm going to spend the morning with my house and Draco, then I'll come here around lunchtime."

Harry let out a loud yawn. "What if I'm discharged in the morning?"

Mae took the initiative in responding to his unrealistically optimistic question. "Your current infusion doesn't end until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. In all honesty, if everything goes perfectly, the earliest you'll be out of here is mid-afternoon. Realistically, it won't be until tomorrow night or Thursday morning."

Too tired to fight it any longer, Harry allowed his eyes to blink closed. "I'll pack up in the morning just in case. I don't think too much of my stuff wandered this go-around."

Snape laughed quietly. "You've never been one to stay in the infirmary a second longer than absolutely necessary."

"Like father, like son," Harry muttered.

"Indeed." He said the word so close to Harry's ear that Harry felt the professor's warm breath moments before the soft kiss landed on his forehead. "Get some rest, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm glad you're alright," Harry confessed when he heard the door open. "Dunno what I'd do without you."

"Me too, Harry," Snape replied. "Me too."

~~~~SS~~~~

Wednesday 3 December 1997

Twenty-seven students and four professors were injured, to some degree, by the draugr's attack on the school. Of those, Madam Pomfrey healed eighteen using four or fewer potions or spells, five with six to nine, and she required eight to stay overnight in the hospital wing - although only seven did because Severus flat out refused to stay. They had one fatality, Firenze, and as Severus had told Harry, out of hundreds of students and staff in the school, he secretly considered themselves fortunate there weren't any more.

The damage to the castle was as severe as the injuries sustained by its residents. The draugr ripped apart approximately two dozen portraits, suits of armour, and statues, luckily not beyond magical repair. A path of pure destruction - including deep gashes along the stone walls and craters in the floors - lined the corridors on four separate floors following the creature's trek from the doors leading out to the greenhouses, up to the fourth floor, destroying almost every classroom in its path, before coming down to Severus's defense classroom. The areas affected by the draugr were immediately closed off to students for most of the previous day, allowing the aurors to investigate and repairs to begin. Thankfully, most of the classrooms and surface damage to the corridors were repaired enough to be reopened to the student body by Wednesday morning. They were told that the library and the corridor outside of it would remain magically closed off, with an age line added to prevent curious students from peering in, until the aurors finished their investigation into Firenze's death. Not one person objected to the decision.

Much to Severus's astonishment, Albus began breakfast with an announcement cancelling classes not only for the day but also for the rest of the week. With the aurors wandering around the castle for the second day and professors assigned to help with the repairs, it made the most sense to give everyone a break. Unfortunately, being the second major break in a single term - the first being after the Slytherin flood - did not go unnoticed by anyone and an unhealthy flow of gossip about the possibility of the school closing down after the holiday swept through the Great Hall like fiendfyre, even going as far as students debating which school their parents would ship them off to next term.

Since he planned to go to the hospital in the afternoon, Severus spent the majority of his morning either marking in the Slytherin common room or in his classroom, his assigned area to repair - adding a few extra well-placed enchantments into his room. During the four hours he wandered between the two areas of the castle, none of his Slytherins approached him regarding their own difficulties related to the attack, but he received nearly a dozen inquiries about Draco's condition. By prohibiting anyone from visiting Draco outside of his parents, Severus, or Hermione, Madam Pomfrey might as well have placed a flashing sign on Draco's curtains alerting the entire school to his dire condition. While the St Mungo's healer maintained their stance that his prognosis was promising, the fact he had yet to regain any significant consciousness certainly concerned Severus so deeply, he took his lunch at Draco's bedside.

The weight of the previous two days finally caught up with the professor shortly after lunch, when he plopped himself down in his sitting room armchair. The stack of Dark Arts books from his Monday night - or rather, Tuesday morning - research were still scattered across the table, prominently framing the mysterious missive. Inevitably, what was intended as a refreshing break before hopefully bringing Harry home early turned into a foreboding reminder that the danger he faced did not die yesterday with the draugr. Severus sighed heavily as he sluggishly leaned forward to pluck the parchment off the table.

They're coming for us.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Severus asked to the empty room. His vision narrowed in on the text, struggling to decipher its secrets and determine where this new piece of the puzzle fit into the complex web building around him.

As someone who naturally questioned coincidences, the timing of the attack hours after receiving the missive seemed more than suspicious. Was it meant to be a warning for him? If so, the sender of the missive had known about the draugr. But if this was a warning, rather than a threat, then why hadn't they given him more details to work with so he could have prevented the attack? To further complicate the matter, if the warning had been about the draugr, then the 'us' population he determined yesterday morning would have to shift from "Death Eaters' to "Hogwarts', and he seriously doubted anyone connected with the school would go out of their way to slip him the note at the muggle hospital. They'd have plenty of chances to do so here, where he was widely available at almost all hours of the day. No, the more he considered it, the less he believed the two events were directly connected. On the other hand, admitting they were an enormous coincidence was a conclusion he wasn't ready to make just yet.

Still perplexed about the state of the missive and the attack, an unexpected sharp rapping on his door violently drew Severus out of his deep thoughts and back into his cluttered sitting room.

"Severus?" Albus's voice called from the corridor at the same time the parchment announcing his arrival fluttered up in front of Severus; revealing two unnamed identities alongside Albus's - most likely aurors protected under a privacy spell.

For a brief moment, Severus entertained the option of simply not answering his door. Technically, nothing was stopping him from pretending he'd already left for the hospital via his floo - or actually doing so at right then - and missed their visit. But after a second, and then a third, thought Albus accompanying the two guests down to the dungeons rather than firecalling Severus to his office meant the headmaster probably knew he was there.

Damn.

Severus hastily slipped the refolded parchment into his robe pocket on his way to the door, already regretting his decision. It wasn't so much that he didn't trust Albus's discretion on the missive, as he didn't want Samson and the DMLE involved until he fully understood the situation himself. He'd learned early in his spying career that he had to prioritize his own interests. Understanding how he could be completely expendable on any day, for any price, had likely saved his life far too many times over the years. And while he assumed one of the two unknown aurors was Kingsley, an auror he trusted, since Tonks was off guarding Azkaban this week, whoever the other was he inherently didn't trust.

Pulling the door open, Severus did not try to appear surprised at the sight of Kingsley and Williamson standing on either side of Albus.

He growled at Albus, "I already gave him my statement yesterday." His only acknowledgement of the two aurors was a nod towards Kingsley. "I have nothing else to add."

"I see we're bypassing the pleasantries this afternoon," Albus replied, the small twinkle in his bright blue eyes showing his support for Severus's curtness; he didn't want them there any more than Severus did. "May we come in? Or would you prefer to have this conversation in the open corridor?"

Severus took a calculated risk and waved his wand around them, muttering Muffliato. In response, the two aurors appropriately drew their wands, inadvertently demonstrating how this visit was anything but friendly.

"As I said, I already gave Kingsley my statement yesterday afternoon,'' Severus hissed. "And I do not have time right now to needlessly go over it again."

"Why not? Weren't you expecting to be in class at this hour?" Williamson arrogantly challenged. "You were told they cancelled your classes… what? A few hours ago? I can't imagine what could have come up in such a short time that's more important than assisting in the investigation of an attack on your students."

At his side, Severus clenched his fists so tightly, he expected to find halfmoon intentions deep into his palm. He needed to remain in control, but his measly five hours of sleep in the last two days certainly didn't help. "New partner, Kingsley?" He sarcastically asked. "And here I thought Samson respected you more than to give you a stone's worth of dirt to drag around all day."

"Auror Tonks is still covering the Azkaban shift. As I know, you already know," Kingsley responded politely. Severus expected nothing less from the man.

Of course, Severus knew. Her new rotation was the sole reason he returned to teach rather than staying at the hospital with Harry. In hindsight, her unexpected absence ended up being beneficial in more ways than one. While he trusted Tonks to cover his classes, he preferred to take situations into his own hands as much as possible, such as a rare dark creature rampaging around the castle; a trait wearing him thin on too many fronts.

"The working arrangements between myself and the headmaster are none of your concern," Severus chastised. "So if there's nothing further-'' he moved to close the door on the other three wizards, but Kingsley's arm pushed it open again.

"Severus, we need you to accompany us to the DMLE. We have a few follow-up questions for you regarding a piece of information uncovered during this morning's investigation." Kingsley's tone was one Severus could not misinterpret. Regrettably, for his unwelcome visitors, he wasn't one to stand down so easily, and he wasn't above using any means available to gain as much insight into a situation he potentially had no choice but to enter.

"So, you are conducting a full investigation?" Severus mocked. "Tell me, was it the slain professor or the near-death of Lucius Malfoy's heir that tipped the scales on this one?"

He must have gone a bit too far because Albus spoke up before Williamson had the chance to spout out whatever his red face implied - surely something Severus would have loved to hear.

"I understand your point, Severus," his employer warned, "but I expect your full cooperation, regardless of how unjustified the request may appear to you at first sight. I believe I speak for the entire school when I say that we appreciate their efforts in determining how this creature entered our grounds, and to help us in preventing any future disasters."

"Of course, Albus." Severus bowed his head in understanding the other wizard's hidden message - he was facing at least one serious allegation, but it was most likely unfounded. "Still, unless they are here to arrest me, I am not going to the Ministry," he flatly refused. "Anything you want to ask me, you can ask it right here."

" I think a little more… privacy… is advisable," Kingsley said, cautiously peering down the empty corridor to his left and right.

Yet another signal for him to proceed carefully. With no other choice, Severus grudgingly stepped to the side, allowing the guests to enter his home through the smallest of gaps between his body and the door. They were just steps away from the sitting room - a split second too late to redirect them to the kitchen without drawing unwanted attention - when Severus noticed the stack of books on the table. As the Defense Master of the school, if either auror questioned them, he'd have to use his classes' upcoming final exams as a valid reason for texts too complex for any school lesson, silently thanking himself for having the foresight to leave his more contentious ones at Spinner's End. Kingsley sat first, taking Harry's usual spot on the sofa closest to Severus's armchair, with Williamson taking the far spot on the sofa beside Kingsley. Albus went to sit in the armchair across from Severus's chair until Kingsley stopped him.

"If anything of importance happens, we will firecall you in your office," Kingsley bluntly informed the headmaster to leave. "Otherwise, once we're done here, we'll join the rest of the team in the library."

Albus locked eyes with Severus, who nodded slightly. While Severus appreciated Albus's willingness to literally stand by him, he had nothing to hide here. At least, nothing he was aware of.

"In that case-" the headmaster swung his hands by his sides dramatically, "-I suspect you'll understand I cannot have unaccompanied guests wandering about the castle, even aurors. Therefore, I shall leave my floo access open and you may use Severus's floo to come directly to my office. I will walk you back down to the library."

"Thank you," Kingsley replied, and with the roar of his floo signalling Albus's departure, Severus sat down in his armchair to face the upcoming inquisition.

"Let's make this quick," he demanded. "I have only an hour until Harry is expecting me. You have until then to get what you need or to arrest me."

"We'll decide when we're finished here, Mr Snape," Williamson stated.

"Professor Snape."

Williamson blinked but did not correct himself immediately. "I'm sure you understand, Professor, I need to perform a wand inspection before we begin."

Severus remained motionless, no matter how alarmed he was by the request. "You are aware that I am the Defense Master for the school, correct?"

"Yes, Severus," Kingsley replied. "We'll keep it in mind during our inspection."

"What exactly are you looking for?"

"You know we can't answer that, Severus," the auror said, and Severus appreciated his honesty, even if he didn't like the answer. "It's standard protocol in a case like this."

"In a case like what?" The professor squinted at the pair of wizards across from him. As much as he respected the former Order member, and believed he would not purposefully lead Severus into the lion's den blindsided, he felt wary of the request. Unwilling to dance around the hippogriff in the room any longer, he asked bluntly, "Have I somehow become a suspect in yesterday's attack?"

Williamson's flinch confirmed what Severus already suspected, so without waiting for an answer, he cautiously withdrew his wand - making sure to present it horizontally to avoid appearing as a threat - and handed it to Kingsley; unwilling to place a personal piece of himself to fall in the hands of Williamson.

It didn't take nearly as long as he expected for them to filter backwards through his last two days of spells, beginning with the Muffliato he cast in the corridor, continuing through his morning's classroom repairs - earning him a raised eyebrow as each of his extra protective enchantments appeared - and ending on yesterday morning's Accio for the invigorating draught he took before breakfast because he stayed up all night researching the damn missive. In fact, they spent more time laboriously documenting the spells he used during the attack than the rest of his twenty-six hours combined. Severus sat as patiently as ever, watching each spell burst from his wand as Williamson recorded them with the same structure he used during Draco's wand inspections.

Satisfied with their findings, or lack thereof, Kingsley returned Severus's wand then pulled out a self-inking quill and small book of parchment, signalling the start of their pseudo-investigation. "Tell us about the permit you applied for on Monday 17 November 1997 to bring a series of magical creatures onto the school grounds beginning on Wednesday 19 November 1997."

Severus leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Out of the wide range of directions he foresaw this heading, it embarrassed him to admit the permit he filed for their latest duelling never once crossed his mind. "I did not know this type of permit required any involvement from the DMLE." Severus pointed out.

Kingsley's gaze never left his notebook. "Under normal circumstances, it would not warrant our involvement."

"Then how did you discover it?" Severus inquired. "Because either the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures brought it to your attention or someone ineptly went searching to see if a permit existed for a draugr. Neither of which looks fondly on the Ministry."

To the professor's advantage, Williamson jumped in to answer. "Let's just say that when a Death Eater-" Severus opened his mouth to once again contest the title assigned to him, but Williamson beat him to it, "-pardon me, former Death Eater, requests permission to bring potentially dangerous creatures into the school, word spreads quickly."

"Are you honestly that daft?" Severus spat at the wizard, then quickly raised his hand to prevent the ensuing argument. "Nevermind, don't respond to that. If they do not classify a draugr as a magical creature, why does my perfectly legal permit?!

"I expected better from you, Kingsley," Severus berated, a disgusted scowl fixed on his face. "I can see this buffoon succumbing to the gossip, but you? Following such a pointless lead? How do you think I brought something like this into the castle unseen? And what motive did I have?"

"We obviously cannot disclose such information during an active investigation. What I can tell you is that this is a top priority for our department right now," Kingsley professionally explained, though his face expressed a feeling of profound sorrow for Severus. It was as if he knew in the aftermath of such a tragedy, Severus's former role in Voldemort's rank would naturally overshadow any sense of logic.

Severus's nostrils flared as he mentally weighed his options. Knowing the permit had no bearing for the draugr attack, he could choose to continue to fight against them for the sake of his privacy, or he could let them waste their resources running down a path that he knew led nowhere. But which would be the most beneficial to him?

They're coming for us.

The message, fresh in his mind, reminded Severus of how he needs answers more than justice. Where would such a creature be found, and how would it be contained for future use as a weapon? How did it get past Hogwarts' protective enchantments and into the school nearly undetected? And what purpose did the attack serve? Was it truly aimed at Draco as Hala suggested? Severus doubted he had been the target based on the dozen opportunities it had to kill him. So who, if anyone, was it out to kill? Ultimately, if he wanted any chance at uncovering these answers, he had to play their game, whether he liked it or not.

"Yes," he reluctantly told them. "I filed for a permit to bring a series of magical creatures into the school for the sole purpose of providing a real-life practical lesson to my classes."

In as much detail as he assumed they'd require, the professor described every single creature he brought through the doors, the dates each arrived and subsequently left, where they originally came from, where he kept them on the grounds - offering Hagrid as a better source for an in-depth look at their accommodations -, and the specific reasoning for each request. Going through it all in one go, Severus hadn't realized just how lucrative of a lesson it must have sounded to an outsider, and it truly amazed him at how much freedom Albus had given him to approve his request almost immediately. In the end, his explanation must have sufficed because Williamson never interrupted him and Kingsley continued to dutifully take down everything Severus said.

"You're required to keep the permit on-site during use," Kingsley reminded him when Severus finished speaking. "Is it still posted up in your classroom?"

"No." Tempted as he was to leave his answer simple, in order to avoid appearing as if he hadn't complied with the instructions, Severus elaborated, "We finished our duelling unit last week, so I've filed it away - as recommended - in my office down here."

Kingsley's quill stopped scratching. "Perfect. If you could summon that for us to copy, I think we'll have everything we need and can be on our way." The auror motioned his head to the clock on the fireplace mantel. "And we even made it in just under an hour."

"I cannot summon it without breaking the doors off my filing cabinet." Severus rose to go to his office to secure the document. "Let me go-"

"I'll accompany you to verify its authenticity," Williamson interjected, mirroring Severus's position across from him.

Severus almost laughed at the obvious ploy Williamson was attempting. If he agreed to allow Williamson to essentially chaperone him into his office, the auror could then use anything he saw in there against him. And while the professor didn't believe he had anything out in the open which might cause him trouble, he wasn't about to risk it against an auror trying to prove himself at the expense of anyone in his way.

"Under no circumstances am I granting you permission to enter my private office," Severus emphatically stated, ensuring his intentions were clear. "If I require a nanny, Auror Shacklebolt may accompany me."

Williamson's physical disappointment almost made the entire interrogation worthwhile.

"Very well." Williamson sat down again, but not before taking in a panoramic view of Severus's sitting room.

Kingsley remained a solid half-step behind Severus all the way to the office, remaining silent the entire time. Although the professor had recently begun working outside of this room to avoid the feeling of the walls closing in around him, his inside cringed at the files and Prophet articles littering his desk; most of which were about the woman discovered in the cave. While Kingsley pretended to admire the unimpressive moulding on the tops of his bookcases, Severus swished his wand over the piles, causing them to vanish into their respective drawers. The sense of decorum did not go unappreciated and helped ease Severus into a more cooperative mood.

"All set?" Kingsley asked as the last drawer closed. He slowly rotated around to face Severus, keeping his eyes fixed on everything but the desk.

"Almost," the professor grumbled, peering out the door to see Williamson studying his notes on the sofa before quietly closing it behind them. "There. Now, would you mind telling me what the bloody hell is going on? We both know my permit has no place in this investigation. What imbecile approved dispatching one of his best wizards out on a wild gnome chase? And for the record, I'm referring to you, not the waste of space sitting on my sofa."

"Samson." Kingsley's answer garnished an exasperated 'ah' out of Severus. "The department learned about your permit application yesterday, not long after they deployed us here to assist-"

"Where you were already too late."

"-And this morning, Samson assigned me to follow up on it." Regardless of Severus's not-so-subtle criticism of their lack of response, he appreciated Kingsley's willingness to share information with an ally. And he was well aware he needed to keep Kingsley as his ally if he had any hope of surviving this battle. "The boss made a big deal about how it's our responsibility to follow up on every single lead. Not to mention we both know the uproar we'd face if the public found out a Magical Creature Permit had been issued a fortnight before the attack and we didn't check it out."

"How many times do I have to say this? A draugr is not a magical creature!" He pinched his eyes shut, wishing it would help relieve the mounting pressure in his head. "Somehow, everyone seems perfectly fine with forgetting this very important detail."

"After all your years of teaching, do you think the average witch or wizard knows that?" Kingsley disputed. "I'd be surprised if anyone remembered the term draugr in a week instead of referring to it as a 'creature'."

Severus conceded with an incoherent grumble. "And me being a former Death Eater? Shall I assume it influenced Samson's decision to make this today's top priority?"

"It certainly added a level of complexity to the situation."

"I see," Severus muttered, yanking open his filing cabinet to provide the requested permit. "It's incredible how a person can go from being the hero of the wizarding world one month to being hunted with pitchforks the next. They all fall right back into the evil Death Eater story the second I do anything out of the 'norm', even for educational purposes." He slammed the drawer closed as he said those two very significant yet overlooked words. "Because, of course, I must be plotting some scheme to murder a fellow professor. One I barely knew. Not to mention, if I wanted to kill Firenze, I could do so in a variety of more effective and undetected ways than sneaking an undead corpse into the castle."

Kingsley let him rant under the unspoken understanding everything said between them was off-the-record. Except, when Severus finished he felt no better than when he walked into the office.

"For what it's worth," the auror said, breaking the heavy silence, "I don't think Samson believes the bollock he said today."

"For what it's worth," Severus hissed, sliding the coveted document across the table, "we both know your boss is only concerned about saving his own arse."

"As any of us would in his situation."

Loathe as he was to admit it, even to himself, Samson's actions weren't much different from his own when he kept the crumbled-up parchment in his pocket to himself.

"I'm all set here," Kingsley stated. He gently returned the original permit to Severus and tucked his copy into his robes. During the entire process, Severus never recalled the auror examining either, a testament to his confidence in Severus's innocence. "Before we leave the privacy of your office, is there anything else you think I should know? Or do you have questions for me?"

There were far too many to choose from, as Kingsley likely knew, but only one of them seemed innocent enough to stand a chance of Kingsley answering with any honesty. "Does your boss have any insight as to why Albus was at the Ministry yesterday morning? Or perhaps who called him there? In his absence during such a significant event, and his return alongside the aurors, rather curious."

Kingsley shook his head. "If Samson knows anything about Albus's purpose at the ministry, he's keeping it close to him. I can tell you, his returning with us was purely coincidental. He did not know about the attack until we ran into him on the way up to the castle. He seemed quite surprised to see our team charging up behind him."

"Interesting." Severus deliberately articulated each syllable as he mentally placed this - possibly the most telling - piece into the ever-growing, complicated web. Yesterday, he assumed the headmaster ended his ministry visit prematurely when he learned his school was under attack. Yet, according to Kingsley, the aurors notified Albus inside the gates. As a result, the short duration of Albus's unscheduled visit - long enough for the draugr to enter the premises undetected and do significant damage - suggested that the plan was well thought out in advance. It implied a draugr did not appear on the outskirts of the castle grounds at random, nor did it discover some unknown exposed gap in their protective enchantments. On the contrary, someone arranged for the Headmaster to be off the premises and then planted the beast in the specific location. How it passed through the enchantments remained a mystery to him.

"We should get back out there," Kingsley's deep voice reminded Severus of how long they'd left Williamson alone in his sitting room.

Thankfully, when they returned, Williamson appeared to have not moved a muscle; still reviewing his notes in the same position as when Severus closed the office door. With nothing else to question him about - not that Williamson didn't try to find something to continue their visit - Severus graciously shuffled them into his floo, listening intently as they each called out 'headmaster's office' before being whisked out of his quarters.

When he was alone again, Severus unbuttoned the sleeves of his plain white muggle dress shirt and rolled them up to elbows, hoping in vain to combat the suffocating air left by his uninvited visitors. He should enter his floo behind them with his destination set as Spinner's End to disapparate to the alley beside the Guildford Hospital, hopefully, to bring Harry home sooner than either of them expected. Instead, he found himself unable to move as he stood equally between the table and the fireplace.

Even though Harry's inpatient cycle this month hadn't been nearly as difficult on the Gryffindor as his previous one, the stress of his son going through it all, combined with his absence, the missive, and the attack, took their toll on Severus and he wished for nothing more than a moment of rest; which he wouldn't have once Harry came home. Then, on top of his normal day-to-day work as a professor and Head of House in a week that was anything but normal, he'd have piles of toxically soiled laundry to deal with, an elaborate medication schedule to keep up with - three of which required a trip to the muggle pharmacy for refills this weekend - and an ill teenager. He desperately needed a break, a moment to recharge so he could think clearly again, not fight for his justice on an unsubstantiated charge.

Debating his options, Severus's gaze veered from the table on his right to the fireplace mantle on his left, landing on a photograph of himself and Harry at Harry's seventeenth birthday party. The repeating loop showed Harry opening his watch, reading the inscription on its back, and then looking straight up at Severus, his eyes filled with love and hope when he understood its meaning. Anguish washed over Severus at how much he'd give to go back to that day when none of them knew how much worse their lives were going to get.

"Fuck!" He shouted, as the tension that had been slowly building up inside of him for days suddenly burst. In one swift motion, he clutched the table's edge and flipped it directly into the sofa, scattering the books and parchment previously resting on the surface into a dishevelled mess on the floor in front of him. A million thoughts simultaneously raced through his mind, each one striving for his attention.

Why couldn't they live their lives in peace? Hadn't they all paid their dues in these last five years? Why him? Why Draco and Harry? And possibly the most important of all, what came next? How could they put a stop to the madness if they couldn't figure out who was behind it and why?

Again, the idea of picking up Harry and fleeing sounded like the best idea in the world. It'd be so simple to go to some place where no one knew either of them or their troubled pasts. As a child, Lily had loved the mountains. He remembered her doing a presentation on the Andes Mountains in primary school, about a year or so before they officially met, and spending the rest of the month excitedly telling anyone who would listen about her plan to live in Patagonia someday. Nobody would think to look for them in South America, and while Severus never left the broken town of his childhood, Harry - like his mother - had the courage to explore the depths of the world. He'd probably love Patagonia. Except Harry still had years of chemotherapy ahead of him; a whole new maintenance schedule once he finished his cycles in April. Would Patagonia have access to his medications? Probably not.

His pitiful planning to create a new life for them came to an abrupt halt when Severus noticed a book peeking out from under the corner of the upside-down table. Frozen in place by a crippling fear rising up inside of him, Severus stared down at the one text he was certain he'd left safely stored in his bookcase in Spinner's End: Secrets of the Darkest Arts, by Owle Bullock.

"It's impossible," Severus breathlessly said out loud, perplexed at how he could not only have no recollection of bringing this specific book to the school but also not recall collecting it Tuesday morning to research the missive.

To be sure, he knelt on his hunches and carefully pulled the book out from under the table, half expecting it to explode when he touched it. The sickening feeling in his stomach grew stronger as he flipped the book over and opened it to reveal the shipping manifest he hid inside of it when Lucius brought it to him last summer, confirming he now held the exact physical book that was supposed to be hidden at Spinner's End. Another, possibly more disturbing series of thoughts raced through his mind: how did it get there? Could Williamson see it in the pile of texts? If so, why didn't he mention it when he returned to the sitting room with Kingsley?

In the end, the last question gave Severus the most peace of mind because no matter how many ways he approached it, the answer always came back to Williamson having not seen the book. There was no other logical explanation for why the auror wouldn't have arrested Severus on the spot if given the opportunity. And while possessing the book alone wouldn't be enough to convict him of much - certainly not enough for a stint in Azkaban - it would place enough reasonable doubt to get him held at the DMLE for several hours, and a more thorough interrogation. On top of everything else he was dealing with, he didn't really need either of those scenarios coming to fruition. For now, he was safe, and he planned on keeping it that way by returning the book to Spinner's End before continuing to Guildford.

Severus, intent on bringing Harry home tonight, waved his wand at the shambles he'd made, instantly straightening the table and replacing the books to their proper places on his bookshelves. He then took the missive from his pocket and vanished it to his office desk. He'd deal with it once the lingering side effects of Harry's treatment fully passed and things in the castle returned to normal. After all, he had little to go on other than four worlds and the memory of the elderly muggle man who bumped into him twice at the hospital.

Finally ready to go, he took a scoop of floo powder out of a container on the mantle and tossed it into the floo, clearly articulating his destination, "Spinner's End!", unprepared for what awaited him on the other side.