Severus poured the contents of the oversized cauldron into half a dozen jugs, setting them neatly on his worktable, before pulling on his overcoat and heading down to the Great Hall. On time for dinner two days in a row—or close enough not to make any difference, anyway—and he didn’t even have students to oversee.

“Severus, there you are,” Minerva greeted.

“So it would seem,” he agreed, pulling out a chair. The muscles in his back twinged, and he wished for a moment that he’d used a levitating charm to jar the potion for Hagrid instead of his own strength.

“Is Harry with you?”

“Obviously not.”

She frowned. “He wasn’t on the Quidditch pitch—Rolanda was there respelling the stands and said she hadn’t seen him all day. I assumed he’d gone back to your quarters.”

Severus shook his head but refrained from repeating himself. “Perhaps one of the other professors drafted him first?”

“Everyone who’s come back to Hogwarts is here. No one has seen him.”

“Brilliant.” Platters sparkled into existence around them and he glared at the neatly carved roast turkey. And the day had been going well for once.

“Now, now, no need to fret,” Hagrid interrupted from his seat on Minerva’s opposite side. “I’m sure he just lost track of time. Probably off exploring.”

This would be the second day he’d ‘lost track of time’ and missed dinner, Severus realized, and while he’d told the boy he was welcome to take meals in his quarters this wasn’t quite what he’d meant. ‘Secret rooms and hidden passages’…I wonder if that particular chapter had more truth to it than the rest of the book. He wasn’t actually worried that the boy had left Hogwarts grounds, not after their encounter with the Malfoys yesterday, anyway, but the castle itself did have some peculiarities to it. As he should well know by now. “I’ll see about locating him after dinner.” Among other things, we need to have words about the quality of the notes he leaves. I suppose he may have taken my advice and gone to the attics, though…he has been behaving reasonably well lately.

Conversations about the return of the students and making up the lost time in lessons filled most of the meal, and he caught Hagrid’s attention as the others began to retire back to their quarters. “You want some help finding Harry?” Hagrid asked.

“No, no, I have some idea where to begin looking. I have the supplies you requested ready.”

The half-giant looked confused for a moment and then broke into a smile. “Already? Thank you, Severus, if I can do anything for you in return, just let me know.”

“It was no trouble.” He led the way back to his quarters and allowed Hagrid load the jugs into his sack. The half-giant was able to move them with ridiculous ease, which somehow didn’t make his muscles feel any better. “If he doesn’t improve, check with Poppy and let me know if you need something different.”

“I’m sure these will work just fine.” He turned and left, and Severus made his way up the multiple staircases to the attic.

He started in the room that had contained the Mirror of Erised. It didn’t anymore, for which he was rather grateful, but the rather distinctive suits of armor gave it away. I’m not sure I’d care to go into battle with an actual target painted on my chest, but to each his own, I suppose. I could see the elder Crabbe and Goyle finding them stylish. No Harry there, but he did a quick walkthrough of several of the larger halls.

“Excuse me—excuse me, you there!”

“Can I help you?” he asked the older gentleman who’d yelled at him out of his painting.

“I’ve told that caretaker of yours a dozen times that I want my painting taken back downstairs! There’s nothing to see up here, and with my bad leg it’s far too much trouble to go off visiting. I was perfectly content to hang outside the Hufflepuff dorms, and I can’t for the life of me understand why I’ve been banished to this dusty hall to languish in—”

“I’ll be sure to pass on your request,” Severus interrupted. “But have you seen a boy come this way today? This high, dark hair, perhaps carrying a broom?”

“The only one who’s come through here lately is that no-good caretaker of yours. Now I—”

“Thank you for your time.”

Fortunately the man’s leg did seem to keep him relatively near his painting, as he didn’t appear in any of the other empty frames that littered the hall. Apparently going off visiting the downstairs paintings was their form of entertainment. The better to gossip with, I suppose. No good material up here.. Still, it didn’t appear that Harry was here, and that book had been in his room….

Severus went back into the spare room to read through the chapter Harry had marked. Not what he’d prefer to be reading just now, but leaving the Golden Boy wandering about with no supervision whatsoever wasn’t an option. Especially since by his own actions yesterday he seemed to find coming and going at eleven at night perfectly acceptable. Three minutes later and Severus was tempted to lend the thing to Longbottom for use as a cauldron stand in his next potions’ lesson. ‘Maybe’, ‘perhaps’, ‘possibly’, ‘perchance’, ‘conceivably’, ‘in theory’, ‘rumored’, ‘believed to be’…offhand he couldn’t come up with another synonym for ‘we don’t really know’, and they’d managed to fit them all into a single sentence. And this is just the chapter introduction.

He flipped in a few pages, hoping to find a diagram or something slightly more definite. Those are the Slytherin dorms…. Incorrectly drawn, why am I not surprised? Offhand, he could see that the common room was shown about half its actual size, and there was no back passage out of the dungeons and up to the entrance hall. Granted it wasn’t common knowledge, but anyone who had done even a reasonable amount of research should have known about it. The Hufflepuff dorms were also shown…something about a hidden storage closet. Nothing on Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, despite the fact that he knew that a group of Ravenclaw students some number of years in the past had put in a small library behind the sixth year dorms hidden from the rest of the school. As for the rest of it…well, there were half-a-dozen well known passages mentioned, but two locations were drawn incorrectly and a third left out the exit entirely.

“This is ridiculous.” He drew his wand. “Indicio Harry Potter.” It spun obligingly… and then picked up speed until it was nothing but a blur before falling to the floor with a clatter. I do not need this right now. He still didn’t believe that Harry would have left Hogwarts; there were a few places on the grounds where a location-indicator spell wouldn’t work. None of them were in the attics, but the Room of Requirement sprang to mind—shielding the location was automatic with an Unplottable spell—as well as the hidden chamber in the Astronomy Tower that was used to keep the more powerful telescopes. At some point in the past some enterprising students had spent their free time spelling the telescopes to find more…interesting…views than those above them and the room had been Contego’d, shielded from searching spells, to keep students from locating the scopes without a professor present.

Why the boy would have hauled his broom into any of those places he wasn’t too sure, though; there was certainly no good reason he couldn’t have dropped it off in Severus’ quarters. And perhaps updated his note so Severus wouldn’t have to spend his evening playing hide-and-seek, as well. Astronomy Tower first, he decided; it would have been faster for the boy to fly up rather than taking the stairs. Granted the room wasn’t mentioned in that worthless excuse for a book, but since nothing of obvious use was….

He began to wish that he’d taken a broom himself after several flights of stairs up to the tower. He’d basically healed from the Dark Lord’s ministrations, but after their nocturnal activities yesterday he’d just as soon have stayed closer to the ground floor, or better yet his own quarters. Especially since he’d already done some rather heavy lifting today and made a similar climb once since dinner. He was getting too old to heal quite that quickly. Spelling open the door didn’t take but a moment, and when he lit the interior he was annoyed to find it empty. To think I made that hike for nothing. He was going to have to come up with something creative to do to the brat in response. Buobotuber puss….

When he found the Room of Requirement similarly empty—well, empty except for an obviously-comfortable bed which didn’t do a great deal for his temper—he began to rethink his assurance that Harry was at Hogwarts. He still didn’t think the boy would have left intentionally, but if he had been out on the Quidditch pitch…well, the grounds weren’t spelled quite as thoroughly as the castle itself. Could someone have broken the protections? Hired one of the forest denizens to carry him off? It would be difficult but not impossible, he’d realized that the night Harry had pulled over the bookshelf. Hagrid normally monitored the Forest fairly carefully, but he’d been gone for more than long enough for someone unfriendly—unfriendlier, anyway, considering what was already out there—to take up residence. The only indication that he hadthat the boy wasn’t yet in the Dark Lord’s hands was that he had yet to be summoned, and even that wasn’t definite. He rubbed his forearm lightly. Malfoy had been extremely bold to attempt what he had yesterday in Diagon Alley…scheming and subterfuge were more his style. Was the Dark Lord desperate enough to order such a thing, or had Lucius simply seen a possible opportunity and taken it? A second attempt at the locating spell got the same response as previous; when two other variations returned similar results he snapped his fingers sharply.

A female house elf he vaguely recognized popped in a moment later. “Master is calling for Ani? Does Master wish for pudding? For tea?”

Of course, I normally get as far from my quarters as possible before asking for a bite to eat. Doesn’t everyone? There was no point in being sarcastic with a house elf, though, she’d probably take his question literally. “No. I’m looking for Mr. Potter. Have you seen him? When was the last time someone spoke to him?”

She cocked her head and did whatever it was house elves did to speak to each other across distances. “We are not seeing him since breakfast. He is taking lunch with him, lunch for flying. Harry Potter is a very nice wizard, he—”

“That’s fine,” he interrupted. With a wave he sent her away, deciding that checking just how secure the outer wards were, and just who might have been visiting, wasn’t such a bad idea. Not what he wanted to be doing at this hour, but then it didn’t seem that he had much of a choice either. Back down the staircases and out across the grounds to Hagrid’s hut; fortunately the moon was nearly half-full and provided plenty of light. Half is better than full, as far as I’m concerned. Being out on the grounds during the full moon always brought back bad memories. A diagnostic spell on the way to the hut confirmed that the wards were all intact with no sign of breaches or weak spots. At least the Deatheaters themselves haven’t been able to break through. Somehow that thought wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been.

Hagrid was coming in from the opposite direction and smiled when he saw Severus standing beside his front door. “Severus, I didn’t expect to see you out here tonight.”

“I didn’t expect to be out here.” I expected to be finishing up some work and then going to bed early, actually. Last night had been a rather late night, despite sleeping in a bit this morning to make up for it. He followed Hagrid into his hut, stepping over Fang who seemed quite comfortable sprawled across the entranceway and not at all inclined to move.

“That potion you made seems to be working nicely. Tea?”

“Thank you, no. Mr. Potter still hasn’t put in an appearance, and I was wondering if he might have come down this way.”

“Can’t say I’ve seen him, but then I was out in the forest between talking to you and dinner and then since dinner as well.”

“Has there been any suspicious activity in the forest of late? Anything unusual roaming around?” Of course, ‘unusual’ was typical of the Forbidden Forest, but it would be understood that he mean unusually unusual.

“No, no, nothing I’ve heard of. In fact, I’d say things have been rather quiet of late. After what happened to that unicorn….” He shook his head sadly. “You think Harry went into the forest?”

“No.” Possibly. It was technically off Hogwarts grounds, but he’d gone in more than once…still, the brat wasn’t a complete idiot. Usually. Severus couldn’t come up with anything offhand that might have lured him in, and a locating spell should have been able to give at least a general direction if that was the case anyway. Unless Deatheaters grabbed him in there and took him somewhere…. Still, there was no point borrowing trouble, and none of the Deatheaters had any more desire to spend great amounts of time in the forest than anyone else would. He glanced at the half-giant munching through one of his borderline-inedible biscuits. Almost anyone. “If he hasn’t been here, I should be going. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye out for me, though, let him know that I’m looking for him if you happen to see him.”

“Of course. And I’ll let you know if G—my, uh, friend—hears about anything strange in the forest.”

“Thank you.” Severus stood, nodding politely, and then turned back for the castle. Getting a second opinion at this point was not out of line. Minerva’s room wasn’t the closest, but she was Harry’s Head of House and should know him best. In theory. He rapped sharply on the door.

“What—Severus?” She lowered her wand. “It’s rather late to be out visiting. What do you need?”

She was dressed for bed, and he could almost hear her hiss at him. The cat having kittens. He couldn’t help a smirk despite the serious of the situation. “It seems Mr. Potter has gone missing again.”

“Missing? You didn’t find him?”

Obviously not. “The indicator spell has failed multiple times, and I checked both the Room of Requirement and the Astronomy Tower storeroom and found no sign of him. His broom is gone as well, although Hagrid hasn’t seen anything strange in the forest and the wards seem secure.” He glared as she tried several locating spells herself, all of which failed. One of which failed rather magnificently, giving off a shower of sparks that forced them both to duck backwards and shield their eyes.

“What about the old dungeon or the Headmaster’s study?”

He wasn’t sure which dungeon she meant, but he hadn’t thought of the study when he was considering Contego’d and Unplottable locations to search. It wasn’t Unplottable, obviously, but in order to keep students from prying it had been shielded years ago. “Did Albus come back to the castle tonight?” He hadn’t been at dinner.

“He wasn’t planning to, but he may have changed his mind.”

Well, if he had gotten back tonight he’d probably have wanted to talk to Harry. Severus would have to think of something creative to do to both of them if he’d gone on this little search for nothing. “I’ll check with Albus if you would—”

“You’re the one who lives in the dungeons,” she pointed out, crossing her arms across her chest and fixing him with an annoyed glare.

“Yes, but I have no idea which one you might be talking about and now hardly seems the time to go looking.” He’d no doubt been there before—he’d been all over the dungeons as a child—but there was no way to know which one might be shielded without someone on the outside testing each as you entered. It would have been rather useful to know, actually.

Her glare didn’t waver, and he had the strong suspicion that she didn’t believe him, but eventually she managed a grudging nod. “We’ll check Albus’ study together, and if he’s not there you can come with me down to the dungeon.” She waved her wand and transfigured her nightclothes into something slightly more professional. “That way you’ll know where it is for future reference.”

“Just what I’ve always wanted.”

She didn’t react to his deadpan response, and the two of them made their way through the corridors in silence. The password had changed since he’d left, but she knew the current one, and the two of them stepped in quickly. “I thought they’d be here.”

Severus looked around the empty room with a frown. “As did I, after you mentioned it. Tell me, are any of the attics shielded?”

“Not to my knowledge,” she responded after a moment. “Why?”

“I would say he’d be more likely to go there than the dungeons, especially since he has his broom with him, but perhaps I’m mistaken. I checked there earlier and saw no sign of him.”

“You’ve managed to check all the attics since dinner?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. However, if none of them are Contego’d or Unplottable it shouldn’t matter.”

Judging by her expression she didn’t truly think the boy would have gone exploring in a strange dungeon, but with no other hidden locations that either of them knew about in Hogwarts there weren’t a lot of other options. Minerva led the way down to the dungeons and off down a twisting corridor that Severus vaguely recognized. He had been this way as a child, he thought, but if he remembered correctly it led down to the rooms that seemed to insist on flooding every time the lake rose no matter how many water-repelling charms were placed on them. He’d seen no reason to get his robes soaked as a child—and, quite frankly, had no desire to do so now—but since Minerva was moving forward with firm determination he had no choice but to follow. “Why, precisely, would anyone shield a room down?”

“It’s Unplottable, actually. The previous caretaker used it for particularly nasty detentions when I was a student. I believe Filch did for a few years as well. The rumor always was that it was made Unplottable because certain students were determined to rescue their friends and kept causing trouble, but that was before my time.”

His lack of desire to see this dungeon increased more than slightly at that revelation. Having some idea of what Filch was capable of, Severus didn’t particularly want to see what was down here. They made yet another sharp turn, and Minerva came to an abrupt halt as her wand lit up a staircase leading down to a room with water almost covering the last stair. “Apparently flooding is still a problem.” The light vanished as Minerva shrank down into her Animagus form, and he cast a Lumos himself and frowned down at her. “You plan to swim?”

Her response involved an upwards leap and some clawing of his robe until she was perched neatly on one shoulder.

It wasn’t—quite—the first time that she’d made a similar maneuver; at least this time he didn’t give immediate proof that even Animagus cats generally managed to land on their feet. “Why, precisely, am I the one who gets to slog through that?”

Pointed glance down at his sturdy, sensible boots.

“You know, should I ever have the time to perfect my own Animagus transformation, I’m vitally certain that it will be something large enough to eat you.”

Mild hiss.

He shook his head. She truly did not care for water, and it wasn’t worth arguing about. Besides which, it wasn’t the first time they’d moved like this. It came in handy, particularly when they had visitors at the school who didn’t realize that ‘the pretty little tabby’ was anything more than what she seemed. At least the flooding only covered three rooms, and he dried his robes quickly as she transformed back and climbed up the next staircase. “Thank you for the lift.”

He glared at her back, shifting his shoulders to work out the kinks. “I live to serve.” Not that she was particularly heavy, but as he’d noted previously he’d been doing rather a lot of walking this evening for someone who’d been through intense healing not so long ago. All of his muscles were getting tired, now, not just his back. And, of course, tension didn’t help. If Harry wasn’t down here…well, I supposed we sound out the rest of the faculty and see if any of them know of any more rooms to search. The idea of having to explain that he’d managed to somehow misplace the Golden Boy was not a particularly pleasant one. “Are we close? You do remember that this is your student we’re looking for, correct?”

“My student, but currently in your care.” She halted a few steps from the top. “This is it. Stand back.” A wave of her wand opened a heavy stone door that creaked and groaned alarmingly as it swung outward.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“Potter?” Severus glared into the darkness, amplifying the light from his wand until he made out someone lying on the floor. Relief at finally finding the boy was equaled and exceeded by annoyance that while he’d been tramping all over the school hunting for him, the boy had been lounging around down here. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing in there?” He made it to the prone figure in two steps and jerked him upright. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I’m sorry, Professor! I was down here looking and all of a sudden the door started shutting and I couldn’t get back out. I didn’t mean to!”

“You apparently don’t ‘mean’ to do a lot of things. Did I, or did I not, tell you to that you were to inform me of your whereabouts when you were out? Does this appear to be the Quidditch pitch to you? It certainly doesn’t appear so to me nor is this what I would call a reasonable h—”

“Perhaps this is best discussed in another location,” Minerva interrupted. “After we’ve all gotten some sleep. It is late, and I’m sure everyone is tired.”

Severus glared at her, but nodded slightly, propelling the brat towards the entrance with a hand firmly clenched around the top of his cloak. The trip back was made in silence—decidedly oppressive silence; Harry didn’t even comment when Minerva once again crossed the flooded rooms on his shoulder—and she seemed reluctant to leave them at the dungeon exit. Severus wasn’t in the mood for her platitudes. “As you said, he is currently my responsibility. Goodnight.”

Harry stayed silent through the exchange, and Severus tugged sharply on the back of his cloak to get him moving again. When the two of them reached Severus’ quarters, a shove deposited the teenager neatly on the couch. “Prof—”

“Shut your mouth. I’d ask what goes on in that head of yours, but as tonight’s little excursion proved there clearly isn’t much. You do realize that the rest of us here at Hogwarts have better things to be doing with our time than following you around? Or have you decided that being the brat-who-lived makes you and your antics more important than everyone else?”

“It’s not like that! I told you, I—”

Severus didn’t particularly feel like listening to excuses. “It’s not bad enough that I had to listen to that flea-bitten mutt of a Godfather of yours ranting at me yesterday, and the werewolf he insists on spending time with wastes more of my time making wolfsbane since he hasn’t got the good taste to impale himself on a silver knife, now I had to spend this evening—”

“Don’t talk about them like that!” Harry yelled, shoving himself to his feet. “Don’t you ever talk about them like that!”

He stepped forward, looming over the boy. “Just because you have sentimental blinders on where those two are concerned doesn’t mean that I do. I’m not sure which of the three of you is the most insufferable, but—”

Harry didn’t back down, green eyes flashing dangerously as he glared. “Because you never do anything wrong, right Snivellous?”

Severus was brought up short for a moment, wondering just where the boy had heard that name. Black, probably, although when the subject would have come up…. The flush on Harry’s face and eyes that flicked towards the table before coming back to his made him suddenly suspicious. The Pensieve. He’d left them both out in the sitting room all night, and Potter had had at least a few hours that morning to do whatever he damn well pleased with Severus being none the wiser. “Out. Get out of here, now.” He was low, dangerous, and the brat’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Get out!” Severus caught his arm, shoving him past the couch and towards the door. “Get out, or I will not be responsible for my actions!”

Potter took a few steps backwards, and Severus’ hand closed on a book that had been left lying on the table and flung it in his direction. It missed, but that was impetus enough, apparently, as the boy stumbled back another step and then turned and fled.

How dare he?! How dare that little wretch? Bad enough that I’m forced to keep him here, bad enough that I’m forced to track him all over the school when he decides to prove what an imbecile he is, now I find out that he can’t even observe basic courtesy and stay out of my things? Especially a Pensieve that he knew perfectly well contained memories that I didn’t want him seeing! Severus stalked the length of the sitting room, and then, running out of room, turned and paced back in the other direction. Gryffindor’s Golden Boy shows his true colors at last. Stop. Reverse. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep anytime soon now, and with a satisfied growl he turned towards the workroom. Dumbledore would no doubt preclude him from doing anything more, but at least he could return the favor.

The Pensieves were sitting against the back wall, and he picked up the one with the nick in one side. The one still full of memories, since Potter had never retrieved his. He touched the surface lightly with his wand and then went in.

He was in the library…late, judging by the fact that it was completely deserted, and probably a holiday as well since the wall torches were out and the only light came from a single lamp on the floor. Something silvery surrounded Potter, and it took Severus a moment to decide that it must be his invisibility cloak. He’d never seen the memory of a person who’d worn one at the time…apparently since Potter knew where he’d been, anyone who viewed the memory did too. He moved a bit closer as the boy awkwardly tried to prop up a large book he’d pulled off the shelf. He was small…first year, perhaps? Certainly not more than second. The book began to scream as he opened it, and he nearly dropped it on the floor as he tried to shove it back onto the shelf. He did succeed in knocking over his lamp, and Severus followed the sound of footfalls and the curiously silver light from the cloak as the boy darted out of the library. Severus passed through Filch on the way in; Potter went under his arm.

It must be first year, Severus decided as Potter took a winding route that led him directly around to the opposite side of the library. Otherwise he’d have known to go the other direction.

“You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section.”

Filch had obviously cut straight through the library, and apparently summoned someone else as well.

“The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them.”

Apparently Filch had summoned him. Severus didn’t recall this particular incident, but there were always at least a few students every year who tried to get into the Restricted Section. Why he would choose to hide this memory, though…it’s not as if he even had time to read a single page. But the memory was continuing…Potter was pressed against the wall as Filch and himself—memory-himself—came around the corner walking towards him. Potter was backing away quickly and at the last minute ducked through a partially open door off to one side. Neither he nor Filch even noticed. I’ll have to remember that. But the boy was in the room, now, and Severus followed him. This had been the Muggle Studies classroom when he’d been a student if he remembered correctly. Not that he’d taken Muggle Studies, but he was fairly sure this was where it had been held before Devon came to teach and moved it down to the ground floor. Chairs and desks still sat in piles, but against the far wall…the Mirror of Erised. This must have been where Albus put it before the attic.

Potter had moved closer to the mirror, studying the writing before stepping immediately in front of it. And then clapped his hands over his mouth and twisted away. Green eyes, shining from the light of the cloak, looked around the room cautiously before turning back to the mirror, and Severus stepped closer to see what the boy had seen. There was a flash of an image—a group of people—and then Harry, breathing quickly, jerked back and scanned the room again.

His shoulders squared slightly as he looked in the mirror for a third time, and this time he didn’t look away. Severus recognized the two figures on either side of the boy’s reflection easily enough, although they were older than the last time he’d seen them. A red-haired woman with bright green eyes, and a tall man with dark, messy hair. Lily’s parents stood behind her, and he recognized Potter’s—James Potter’s—father as well although he didn’t think he’d ever seen the man’s mother. It stood to reason that she was the dark haired woman beside him. They were Harry’s grandparents, obviously, and the rest of the figures probably great-aunts and uncles or some such. Lily’s muggle sister was conspicuous in her absence.

“Mom?” Harry whispered, drawing Severus’ attention back to him. “Dad?”

Severus couldn’t see how the child could possibly see the images as close as he was standing, but after a few minutes he tore his eyes from the first two figures, putting his hands on the mirror surface as he looked slowly at the rest of the people smiling back at him. He continued to stare, and Severus realized abruptly that this was the first time that he’d ever seen his family.

A noise in the background—probably a house-elf, Severus judged—caught his attention some moments later and he turned from the mirror with obvious reluctance. “I’ll come back.”

A swirl, and that memory ended leaving Severus standing in almost full dark. Seven figures were making their way down a tunnel…eight if that cat of Granger’s counted. It was obviously third year, after he’d been knocked out in the shrieking shack, as the mutt was hovering his body along. The werewolf—holding a wand on Wormtail—Wormtail, and the Weasley boy were in front of him, Black, Potter, and Granger behind. Memory-him’s head knocked against the ceiling lightly, and Severus glared at the mutt. No wonder I woke up with a headache.

“You know what this means?” the mutt asked suddenly.

Eloquent as ever, Severus thought at the non-sequiter.

Potter didn’t seem to follow either, and Black continued. “Turning Pettigrew in?”

“You’re free.”

“Yes. But I'm also—I don't know if anyone ever told you—I'm your godfather.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” Potter agreed.

Black seemed to expect more of a response. “Well... your parents appointed me your guardian. If anything happened to them….”

Harry stopped suddenly, staring at him.

“I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle.” The mutt’s voice was stiff and he wasn’t looking back at the boy as he spoke. “But…well…think about it. Once my name's cleared…if you wanted a…a different home….”

Harry’s eyes widened and he trotted a couple steps to catch up. “What—live with you?” He walked directly into an overhang, and Severus winced although the brat didn’t even seem to notice. “Leave the Dursleys?”

“Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to,” said Black quickly, his voice hitching slightly. “I understand, I just thought I'd—”

“Are you insane?” Harry’s voice cracked. “Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?”

Watch it! Not that the thought did any good, as his levitating self scraped against the ceiling.

Black turned back to look at Potter now, though, obviously not caring about anything but his godson. “You want to? You mean it?”

“Yeah, I mean it!” Harry’s face had lit up, and in the face of that and his excited statement the mutt broke into a jaw-breaking smile as well.

The memory ended there, and in a swirl of light Severus found himself in a graveyard surrounded by Deatheaters. His Dark Mark flared suddenly, and his first thought was that it was in sympathetic reaction. The second spike of pain convinced him otherwise, and he pulled out of the Pensieve quickly. And stared at it for a few seconds before turning to get his mask and robes. He would come back if there were any particular potions the Dark Lord desired tonight.

Severus didn’t recognize the location he apparated to—either the lawn or the castle which stood on it—but that wasn’t overly unusual. The Dark Lord tended to change bases every few weeks, and there were more than a few deserted holdings that he had access to. Here’s to paranoia. Although, to be fair, there were plenty of people who were out to get him. What appeared to be a figure in a cloak passed by one of the upper windows, and Severus shrugged into his robe and put on the mask before starting across the grounds. If he was lucky this would be a short meeting. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t be at a meeting.

He dropped his wand down into his hand out of habit as he crossed the threshold and joined the ring of people wearing similar garments. Tried, anyway, as they separated into two groups at some unseen signal leaving him facing the Dark Lord.

“Expelliarmus!”

He recognized Nott’s voice, but before he could react his wand flew out of his hand, landing on stone and skidding well out of reach. What in the Merlin’s name…?

“Bring him,” the Dark Lord ordered.

Two figures in robes stepped up behind him—had had no doubt that one was Lucius, but the other…Amycus, possibly, or Rabastan. They were the only two with that particular build. Crabbe and Goyle were easy enough to pick out; they were standing slightly in front of him on either side. Not that he would have tried to run, not wandless and surrounded, but clearly they were taking no chances. Which, of course, begged the question why….

“My Lord,” Severus greeted as he approached the dais, bowing low. The creature didn’t even acknowledge the gesture.

“Once again you’ve disappointed me,” he began.

Wonderful. Damn Lucius.