The school year was nearing its end too quickly, and all Saturnine and Remus had to show for it was the most accurate unofficial biography of one Tom Marvolo Riddle. They had hoped by now that they would have found at least one Horcrux but had had no such luck.

Though Saturnine was certain that the Dark Lord had used the locket to secret away a piece of his soul, she did not know where the ancient relic was. She had tracked it down through the centuries from the time of Salazar Slytherin himself until 1961, but then she’d lost its trace. She also had a few leads on other items Lord Voldemort could have used, but these, too, were lost in the wind.

It was with these thoughts weighing heavily on her mind that Saturnine went to bed on May 27th after another long evening of poring over old Ministry reports with Remus. She was awoken three hours later by the security gong of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry expectantly resonating.

The dark-haired witch was out of her bed in a flash, retrieving her acorn wand from beneath her pillow, and charming her usual clothes on. There was no time to waste in applying layer upon layer of makeup tonight, and she chose the quicker solution of pulling up a Glamour Charm. It was a risky move—she knew some really powerful wizards could see through glamours, or at the very least detect their presence—but she had no other choice. If put to the test, her quick charms wouldn’t last long, but she couldn’t be seen gallivanting about the school with her real face on, either. She did put on the contact lenses and earrings, though, but switched to a sturdier pair of shoes in case she was expected to fight.

Her first thought was to see to Harry’s safety. Wand in hand, Saturnine rushed to the Grand Staircase, planning on going up Gryffindor Tower at a run. What she hadn’t planned for was the sound of feet rushing down the same staircase, one or two floors below. Getting dangerously close to the bannister, she peered over to take a look. The coattails of two strangers—a man and a woman, she thought—disappeared into the first-floor corridor. Saturnine briefly wondered why they would go there. At this time of night, there was nothing of interest on that floor, save for some empty classrooms and the closed-off library. Then it clicked: the tapestry.

Cursing between her lips, she changed direction and returned to the third-floor landing. If these intruders were former Hogwarts students, chances were high they knew some of the old castle’s secret passageways. Such as the one hidden behind an old tapestry on the first floor’s corridor, which led to a twisting staircase heading straight to the vicinity of the front doors. With the head start the two outsiders had, there was no way she could get to them in time—if she played by the rules, of course.

Throwing the nearest window open, Saturnine climbed up the ledge before throwing herself into the black void. It was a pleasant night, she discovered, as she manipulated the winds to move away from the castle walls and towards the front of the building. Clouds hung low in the sky, hiding half the stars and the waning moon, but there was still enough light to navigate by.

The dark-haired witch made a large circle around the most western tower before coming round to the entrance. It might have looked as if she was flying, but it was more akin to gliding. Flying was for birds and required their movement. As it was, Saturnine simply bid the air to support her mass and manipulated the currents so she could follow them to her destination.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she neared the front entrance of the castle. The heavy double doors were open. Slightly increasing her altitude, Saturnine looked around to search for the two strangers but found no one. Either they had gone already, or they had cast Disillusionment Charms on themselves to cover their escape. One way or the other, it was time for Saturnine’s feet to touch solid ground again. Above her, windows after windows were lighting up in the old castle’s facade. And it wouldn’t be long until frightened students peered through them to try and determine what was occurring.

Landing near the main steps, Saturnine looked up towards Gryffindor Tower, her eyes narrowing on the windows of Harry’s dorm room. The lights were on there, too. But no one was at the window. She entered the castle, intent on returning to her plan of climbing the lions’ tower at once. She was surprised to stumble on Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall in the middle of the hall. Her brother was there, too, and she could see Professor Sprout coming in from the opposite end of the hallway. It looked as if her plans would have to wait. And she schooled her expression into something more neutral before approaching them.

The headmaster turned towards her at once. If Dumbledore was surprised to know she’d been outside, he didn’t let it show. “Anything, my dear?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing. They’ve gone, sir.” After a pause, she remembered noticing something as she took flight earlier. “But the doors to the Astronomy Tower were open.”

“Is that how they got in?” McGonagall asked. “They ought to have locked automatically after curfew. How could this be?”

Not sure if they used it to get in or out, she thought to herself. Whatever nefarious mission this had been, it sounded unlikely that only two Death Eaters would have carried it out. But if the others had come with brooms; maybe they had fled from the Astronomy Tower’s platform. There were also dark spells that would have allowed them to fall to the grounds safely, away from prying eyes.

Professor Vectra and Hagrid soon joined them, and they started asking question upon question. Saturnine stole a glance at her brother. Despite his controlled countenance, Severus looked as worried as she was. She caught a slight twitch of his fingers and the shuffling of a shoe, and she recognised the signs. He desperately wanted to be elsewhere, and she echoed his sentiment.

Around them, the enquiring voices grew, and Saturnine wished the staff members would stop with their panicky questioning and start thinking more rationally. In the periphery of her vision, she saw Severus dangerously tightening his lips and feared an explosion.

“Quiet!” she ordered, the word tumbling from her mouth with little conscious effort on her part. A surge of her magic accompanied it—not so much an uncontrolled burst as a necessary release of pressure. Her brother wasn’t the only one with more pressing matters on his mind, after all.

That caught everyone’s attention—Hogwarts’ Potions Master included—and the chatter mercifully died down.

“Our colleague’s right,” Dumbledore said, coming back to his senses. “We all need to calm down. The threat has passed. Professor Vectra, Hagrid—can you see to the students? Make sure they all stay in their dorms.”

At last, Saturnine felt like saying, but she held off the thought. Vectra and Hagrid left at once, and the headmaster turned on his heel.

“Everyone else—my office, if you please,” he instructed.

They were halfway to the stairs when Professor Flitwick’s squeaky voice stopped them cold. The short-legged half-goblin teacher approached them as quickly as his tiny body would allow. His face was red with exertion, and his thin wand shook in his trembling hand.

“The children,” he said, panting heavily as he made himself catch up with their group. “They took the children.”

At his words, Saturnine’s blood ran colder than the dried-up trail of blood on Flitwick’s temple.

“Which ones?” Dumbledore asked as the half-goblin finally reached them.

Saturnine held her breath like everyone else. Call it motherly instinct, but part of her already knew which name would tumble from the shorter man’s lips. Somehow, it would be Harry—it would be her son.

Her former Head of House painfully wheezed out the words between laboured pants, “Harry Potter—and—Draco Malfoy.”

Though Saturnine had known it was coming, the news still felt like an ice pick had been plunged through her heart. It took everything she had not to scream in rage—to focus on the rest of the conversation as if she wasn’t personally involved. It was only her need to gather more information that allowed her to keep a modicum of self-control.

“It was Bellatrix Lestrange,” the Charms professor said. “She attacked us on the fourth floor—I tried fighting her off, but she got the best of me.” He paused to draw breaths and swayed dangerously on his tiny legs. Professor Sprout took a step closer to him and offered a steadying hand.

“Knocked me right off my feet,” Flitwick continued. “I sounded the alarm when I came to, but she was gone—took the boys with her.”

“Thank you, Filius,” Dumbledore said. “I’m sure you have done everything you could.” Then, addressing Professor Sprout, he added, “Pomona, will you see him to the infirmary?”

The Herbology teacher nodded at once, and she helped her colleague make it to the stairs. The headmaster led the way to his office once more, followed closely by Professor McGonagall.

Saturnine fully expected Severus to follow suit, but the tall Potions Master stood rooted to the spot. She chanced a glance at his face as she started following the others down the hall. The hollowness she discovered in her brother’s gaze made her freeze by his side.

“Severus?” she whispered low enough that Dumbledore and McGonagall wouldn’t hear her.

Her demand earned her no reaction from the Potions Master, and her worry grew. As she had during their childhood, she reached for his elbow to get him moving. He followed her direction dutifully, like a mindless puppet.

In Saturnine’s mind, a kaleidoscope of images and sounds replayed memories of her younger self directing a similarly disconnected dark-haired boy. She wasn’t sure of the clinical term for what was happening, but she knew Severus had just lost himself within his head. He’d retreated so far inwardly that nothing reached him anymore.

She had seen it happen a couple of times before when her brother was a kid, and things had gotten really bad at home. When their father was at his absolute worst, this was the only coping mechanism Severus’ battered body had found to shelter itself. It shut his perception off from the harsh realities of life in a last-ditch effort to protect the heart and soul within. It sometimes took hours afterwards for him to return to reality. And seeing her brother in such a vulnerable state could scare Saturnine like little else. Every time this happened, she stood vigil by his side until his awareness returned. And even then, she had a hard time letting go of him again.

She’d had no idea this still happened now that Severus was an adult. She had thought he was doing better, but apparently, she’d been deceived like everyone else. The wounded little boy she once knew was still there—hidden away underneath the flowing black robes and stern-looking frock coat—and he was in pain. It broke her heart to realise that, and if the circumstances were different, she would be hugging him now. As it was, she only allowed herself to rub his back comfortingly, hoping that some of it would get through to him.

“Come now dear, we’re leaving,” she murmured in the same soothing voice she used back then. Urging her brother forward, she made sure not to walk too fast so they would remain out of earshot from the others. “It’s going to be all right; just breathe.”

Dumbledore and McGonagall seemed so preoccupied with their discussion that they never noticed the pair lagging behind.

Once they had all reached the headmaster’s office, Saturnine led the Potions Master to a seat and poured him a stiff drink. She was certain he would need it when the world returned to him in its full, unforgiving palette. McGonagall gave her a strange look at that, but the headmaster seemed to understand.

That done, Saturnine retreated to the shadows near the bookshelves as she wondered how to get her son back. She knew she would go to impossible lengths to see Harry safely home. Severus’ godson was missing, too. And she had seen ample evidence all year round of just how far her brother would go to get him back. She wasn’t sure if anything united them anymore. But they had, at the very least, been given a common goal.

Professor Leen Nine was drawing her last breaths, Saturnine knew. One way or another, the masquerade would end before the next sunrise. The unveiling of the truth would come as a shock to Severus, though. And she dearly hoped his aching, battered soul could take one more hit, for she sure as hell would need his help tonight.