At first, Harry hadn’t noticed.

Sure, Snape hadn’t been at breakfast that morning, but that wasn’t so unusual. If Harry could have avoided having to eat in the Great Hall at times, he certainly would have. But Harry had glanced up at the staff table, seen Snape wasn’t there - and then thought about how strange it was he seemed to be seeking Snape out lately - and carried on with his morning as usual. He forced down a few pieces of toast at Hermione’s insistence and left for his morning classes. He struggled through Charms, caught up on some missed sleep during History of Magic, managed a bit more food at lunch - noted once again that Snape wasn’t there - and attended Divination. It wasn’t until his last class of the day, Potions, that he realized something was amiss.

Harry wasn’t the only one to stumble a bit when they walked over the classroom threshold. It was their 5th year and they’d rarely ever had a substitute teacher - never, ever in Potions. Harry hadn’t ever thought much about who the substitute for that class would be, but he certainly wouldn’t have considered Professor Dumbledore.

“Good afternoon, class,” Dumbledore welcomed them jovially once everyone had entered. This was certainly a new experience in Potions class. Snape had never so much as wished them a farewell. “I’m afraid that Professor Snape is away today, so I will be aiding in your learning today.”

Quite a few of the Gryffindor boys cheered, and Dumbledore gave them a stern look while several Slytherins sneered at them. Harry showed no reaction either way, trying to figure out where on earth Snape could have gotten off to. Was he sick or something? He couldn’t recall any of his professors - besides Professor Lupin, of course - getting sick. A simple Pepper Up would cure most common illnesses, after all.

“Now, I believe it would be best that we focus on theory today, lest we blow up Professor Snape’s classroom without him here to witness it. Please pull out your Potions textbooks and turn to page 394.”

Harry did as he was told, but barely paid any attention to the lesson. This should be thrilling - he’d heard of Dumbledore filling in for teachers every now and then but hadn’t ever actually experienced it himself, and Potions definitely was the best class to receive a substitute in. Still, Harry couldn’t help but focus his attention on wondering what could have happened to Snape to prevent him from teaching their class. Many possibilities came to mind, though none that he wanted to consider for too long.

When the bell rang at last the class flooded out like it was any other Potions class. But it wasn’t any other class, and Harry stayed behind after it, wanting to talk to Dumbledore. The man was sitting at Snape’s desk, and Harry went up to him after everyone had left, telling Ron and Hermione not to wait on him. “Uh, hullo, Professor,” Harry said, shifting his book bag around on his shoulder.

Dumbledore looked up from whatever he had been studying and offered him a tense smile. “Harry,” he greeted, smiling. “How are you today?”

“Fine,” Harry said tersely. “I was just wondering, er- Where- where’s Snape?”

“Professor Snape, Harry. He is taking care of something for me. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly.”

Harry shuffled his feet. “Oh. Well, um… Do you know if he’ll be back tonight?” He asked in a small voice.

“It’s hard to say,” Dumbledore murmured, taking off his glasses for a moment to rub his fingers across his eyes. He appeared stressed despite the calm facade he’d been showcasing during class, and it concerned Harry. “I’m sure he’ll be back by tomorrow. Try not to worry, Harry. Enjoy the feast.”

The feast. Yeah, right. There was a bad feeling coming over Harry then - the worry that perhaps not all was well. Snape had been gone at Death Eater meetings several times this year, but it had never interrupted his time at school. He’d never missed a class. It wasn’t like Voldemort didn’t know his class schedule, so what could have been so important to pull him away from it?

Harry still skipped the feast, but he spent the evening alone. He wandered down to Professor Snape’s office rather late under his invisibility cloak, hoping he might be back by then.

He hadn’t been there, and he wasn’t at breakfast the next morning, either. Dumbledore was teaching Potions once again and his stress seemed more apparent and Harry felt the worry in his stomach intensify. He didn’t bother approaching him after class that day, he didn’t need to ask him something he already knew the answer to.

Snape had been summoned again, but this time he hadn’t come back.


***


“You’re worried about him,” Hermione mused one day at breakfast. It had been three days since Harry had first noticed Snape’s absence.

Harry gave her a startled look. “Worried about who?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Come on, Harry. You know who I’m talking about.”

Harry glanced up at the staff table once again, more specifically at Snape’s empty seat, feeling uncomfortable. “Why should I care?”

“Harry… it’s okay to care about people.”

“It’s not- people, Hermione. It’s Snape,” Harry hissed quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear them. “There’s- there’s no reason for me to feel anything at all about this, we hate each other-”

“Do you really?” Hermione asked. “I know you have in the past, but recently… we’re not blind, you know. Things have been changing.”

And wasn’t that the truth? Things had changed so much in such a short amount of time. If this had happened a mere few months ago, Harry thought that he may have been curious about Snape’s whereabouts, but worried? No, he likely would have been just as happy as the rest that Snape had gone.

What had changed? It couldn’t have been the guardianship - that hadn’t been any grand gesture on Snape’s part, just something that needed to be done and he was able to provide. It was just… it was nothing.

But was it really? It had been Dumbledore who’d told Snape to teach Harry Occlumency, yes, but… No one had told Snape to take the proper time to teach him. No one could have blamed him if he’d deemed Harry a lost cause early on. As far as he knew, it had been Snape, not Dumbledore, who’d set up the nightly Occlumency sessions. It was Snape who was taking the time out of his day to focus on Harry’s wellbeing.

Snape didn’t have to talk to Harry about his moods, didn’t have to ask what was bothering him. He could have easily ignored it or even belittled him for it like he’d done in the past. He didn’t have to offer to spend time with him.

And what was it that Dumbledore had said? That Snape had done a great thing in taking guardianship of Harry? It hadn’t been planned. Snape hadn’t done it because he was told to. He’d done it for Harry. And that was a startling realization.

It did occur to Harry that he was more concerned about Snape being in some sort of trouble with Voldemort than he had been about his own family’s predicament. Did that say something bad about Harry, or did it say something significant about his changing relationship with Snape?

“I am worried,” Harry quietly admitted at last, pushing his eggs around on his plate. “I think- something really bad must have happened for him to just disappear.”

“Have you talked to Professor Dumbledore about it?”

Harry looked up at the staff table, taking note of Dumbledore’s thin hands steepled over his lips, his worried expression only growing over the past few days. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Don’t you think you have a right to?” Hermione asked gently. “Look- I won’t pretend to know or understand what’s been going on between you and Professor Snape this year, but, well… It’s obvious that something has occurred. And he’s… He’s your guardian now, isn’t he? You have a right to know if something is wrong.”

It was Saturday, and Ron was still in bed, sleeping in. Harry wondered if they could be having this open of a conversation if he had been there. He loved his two friends equally, but they were certainly very different from one another.

“Yeah,” muttered Harry. “I guess.”

Harry just wasn’t sure that he wanted to know.

***

Harry wandered up to Dumbledore’s office in the afternoon, only realizing once he’d gotten there that he’d need a password. And wasn’t that stupid? Needing a password to even ask to speak with the headmaster… Still, they were pretty easy to guess, and Harry got in on the third try with ‘butterscotch’. He went up the moving staircase but hesitated in the doorway, not sure if this was such a good idea after all.

The choice to enter was taken away from him, anyway. “Harry,” Dumbledore greeted him with some amount of cheer. “Do come in.”

Harry offered a strained smile, forcing himself to step further into the room. “Hey, Professor… sorry to bother you…”

“It’s no bother,” Dumbledore said kindly. “Please, sit.”

Harry took a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the headmaster’s desk, but couldn’t find any comfort in the familiarity of it today. He wrapped his arms around his torso, wondering when it had become so difficult to simply talk to Dumbledore.

“How are you, my boy?” Dumbledore prodded gently. “Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?”

“I’m okay,” Harry lied, not wanting to get into the truth of the matter. “I just… I know I already asked, and I really don’t want to bother you, but… what’s going on with Professor Snape? Where is he?”

Dumbledore averted his eyes then, looking to the instruments lining his desk. “I wish I could answer your questions, Harry, but to be honest with you, as it is, I’m not quite sure myself.”

Harry’s stomach tightened. “You don’t… know?”

Dumbledore’s expression was troubled, as it had often appeared over the last few days. “He was summoned the night before Halloween by Voldemort, which I’m sure you have guessed. I’m sure you also realize that he has never been gone for so long before, and has made no attempts to contact me.”

“So you’re saying… he’s probably in some sort of trouble, then?”

“I’m afraid that does appear to be the case.”

“Well, what… what are we going to do about it? I mean surely you’re going to do something, right?”

“The order is attempting to locate him.”

“Like they’ve done with Aunt Petunia?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Harry, I promise we are doing everything we possibly can, in regards to both your aunt and Professor Snape. But there is only so much.”

“What am I supposed to do, then?” Harry asked quietly. “I can’t just sit around and wait for something to happen.”

“That is the best thing you can do, and precisely what Professor Snape would tell you to do. Any rash actions on your part will not be of any help to Severus, and I’m sure that you realize that he would disapprove of you doing anything foolish.”

“What could I even do?” Harry asked dully, rubbing his aching forehead. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Dudley he couldn’t do anything to help Aunt Petunia. This was the same - though now he thought he might understand more of what his cousin was feeling.

“I can only imagine what sort of ideas may pop into your head, child. I simply ask that you refrain from making any impulsive decisions.”

Harry closed his eyes as his headache intensified. There was nothing to be done about it, any of it- Harry didn’t want to imagine what sort of trouble Snape might have gotten into. And yet the images still seemed to be flashing through his mind…

“Harry, are you quite alright?” asked Dumbledore.

“Yeah,” muttered Harry. “Sorry, just- I think it’s probably- you know. Him. But I kind of know how to keep it at bay, I just have to focus…”

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate before saying; “Perhaps you should allow it, just this once.”

Harry looked at him in surprise. Dumbledore had been rather adamant that Harry learn Occlumency and stop these visions, he’d said they were dangerous… He must be desperate for information if he was turning to Harry for help in this regard.

And Harry was beginning to feel desperate, too. Still, he was unsure. This would definitely qualify as one of those foolish choices that Snape would not appreciate. He could just imagine his response to this. What do you think I’ve been teaching you Occlumency for, Potter? Just to clear out the cobwebs in your head?

But Snape wasn’t here, and he may not come back if Harry didn’t do this. And Harry would rather have the opportunity to ask for forgiveness later than permission he currently couldn’t obtain.

“Okay,” Harry said at last, and the stone of the Hogwarts in his mind crumbled to dust as he let his shields down and invited Voldemort inside his head.