“Pacing won’t make him come home any sooner.” Harry snapped as Draco made his twenty third lap across the library floor, “I’m sure he’ll pop in any minute.”

The blonde turned to his roommate, pausing mid-stride, a look of anguish on his pale face, “It’s been hours, something’s wrong.”

“You don’t know that!” Harry insisted, moving from the window seat to sit sideways in an oversized black leather chair, “Someone was definitely impersonating the headmaster, he had to tend to him first. He’s probably searching for Dumbledore now, he’ll be back shortly.”

“So naïve, Potter.” Draco spat out, resuming his steps back and forth over the emerald rug, his hands clenched tightly.

Rubbing his temples, Harry let his head fall back for a moment with a heavy sigh. He, like Draco, was worried. While he didn’t claim to know how Snape’s mind worked, he was fairly certain that the professor would have let them know something by now. Of course, it wasn’t as if their guardian could just floo through now that they had closed the connection. The older man would have to apparate in, or possibly send his patronus with a message. Could a patronus travel this far? The window had been opened in case the Slytherin would send an owl, but so far they had heard absolutely nothing.

The Gryffindor wasn’t quite sure when he had started caring about the professor’s well-being. Sure, he never liked to see anyone in harm’s way, but the potions master had never been on the list of people Harry held near and dear. At least, not until now. Something had changed this summer, and while Harry couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he started caring about Snape, the aching in his chest proved that he did now. Maybe it was due to the time they had spent confined together, he now knew a bit more about the emotionally and socially distant professor, or perhaps it was because Snape had shown a human side while helping Harry deal with his own issues. Whatever the reason, Harry felt just about as ill with worry as Draco looked.

“I’m not naïve,” the dark-haired boy sighed, “A bit optimistic, perhaps, but not naïve. I know exactly what the death eaters and Voldemort are capable of.”

“So you think it was the death eaters then?”

Harry raised an eyebrow at the Slytherin in disbelief, “Is there any doubt? Who’s being naïve now?”

“How did they get past Dumbledore, then?” Draco asked, his pace quickening slightly, “I would think he is more powerful than any minion of the Dark Lord’s, and if it were the Dark Lord impersonating the headmaster, he would have killed you the moment you walked through the door.”

“I’d like to think that the next time I meet Voldemort, he’ll be the one dying.” Harry retorted indignantly, “And I have no idea how the death eaters got past Dumbledore, I don’t think any of them have the brains, let alone magical power, to take him down.”

Draco was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was unusually quiet, “I think Severus is a fantastic wizard…he’s smart, cunning, agile…he is an amazing spy…but if whoever did this was able to bring down Dumbledore, what sort of chances do you think Severus has? He’s probably already dead by now.”

“Don’t say that!” Harry snapped, jumping to his feet and grabbing Draco by the shoulders, shaking him slightly, “You forget that Snape is one of them, Draco, he knows how they think and he can probably anticipate what they’re going to do—isn’t that part of what makes him a good spy? He’s fine, he’ll be here in a few minutes and then you’re going to feel like an idiot for panicking when it’s only been a few hours. If something was wrong, we’d know.”

“How would we know?”

Harry’s hands trembled slightly as his roommate’s sharp voice rang in his ears, and he could practically hear the Slytherin boy mentally calling him an idiot. He couldn’t help but think that the other boy was right, how would they know? Logically, he knew that there would be no way of knowing unless they contacted someone to find out if anyone had heard anything, but who could they trust? Did anyone even know that the headmaster had been replaced by one of Voldemort’s minions?

Determined to be the calm, rational one he exhaled deeply and looked the blonde boy in the eye, “I don’t know how, but we’d know. Until we know something, though, we need to remain calm and at least try to act like everything is okay.”

Draco’s lips were pressed tightly together, a scowl on his face as he pushed past Harry, muttering something about ‘stupid Gryffindors’ before resuming his worried pacing on the other side of the room.

With one last worried glance at the Slytherin, Harry left the library and retreated to their bedroom. His headache was back in full force, and he wished he had enough potions knowledge to brew a potion to relieve some of his pain. With a groan, he reluctantly pulled out one of the books he had been studying and began to add to the notes he had already taken. Normally, the idea of working towards his goal of vengeance on his loved ones’ murderer was enough to distract him from the pain, but he couldn’t get the events from earlier out of his mind in order to concentrate.

Although he didn’t want to admit it to Draco, who was already starting to panic, he had a bad feeling about their professor and what was happening. Harry blinked back the tears that stung his eyes as he tried to focus on the pages in front of him. So many lives had been needlessly lost and the young Gryffindor couldn’t fathom the idea of losing yet another adult whom he had started to grow attached to. The book hit the wall with a thud as Harry released a bit of his pent up frustration, and tired of pretending to be strong, the boy rolled over and buried his head in his pillow and began to cry.

*~*

Severus blinked his eyes open slowly, acutely aware of the stabbing pain in his side and the throbbing in his temples. The room slowly came into focus, damp and dim, lit by only two wall sconces. Something moist trickled into his eye and he moved to wipe the offending liquid away, only to realize his wrists were bound to the cot he was laying upon.

The spy let his eyes slide closed again, eager to ease the pain radiating through his head as he replayed the events that he could remember. He had gone to see Dumbledore, a fight had broken out. He had been cursed and captured…but how? The fake Dumbledore was on the ground in agony, there was no way he could have cast any spells against a trained Death Eater/Order Member/Spy. There must have been an accomplice. An invisible accomplice? That was highly unlikely as well. Most people couldn’t hold an invisibility spell long enough to be unnoticed the entire time he was in the headmaster’s office.

Severus forced his eyes open again as the haze around his mind began to clear and more locations of pain began to infiltrate his senses. Aside from his splitting headache, which judging from the lump he could feel between his head and cot was likely caused by a concussion, and what he could assume was a bleeding cut to the forehead, he couldn’t move his right leg at all, his left was excruciatingly painful to bend or stretch. He was having trouble breathing through his nose, which he assumed was possibly broken, and he could tell that his ribs were likely bruised, if not broken, from the stabbing pain that came every time he inhaled.

Despite feeling ready to sink back into unconsciousness from pure exhaustion, he forced himself to take a few deep, albeit painful, breaths and focus on his magic. Moments later, as a thin bead of sweat began to break over his brow, he felt the restraints around his wrists snap off and he weakly pulled his arms to his chest, checking for any injuries that needed immediate attention. There had to be a way out of here, and the professor decided to put his intellectual mind to the test as he contemplated the possible means of escape.

He took several deep breaths, trying to block out the pain and anxiety of the situation, and slowly began to formulate a plan. The sound of keys jingling brought him back from his thoughts and he desperately tried to use his magic to rebind himself. He was in no position to make his move now, weakened by his injuries and his ideas only half developed. Right now it would be best to be the prisoner they expected him to be. There would be time for action later, for now he needed to focus on a plan.

~*~

Draco stared out of the window, a frown on his face. He had never felt so utterly powerless and terrified in his entire life. He was used to throwing money or his name around to make things happen the way he wanted them to, and right now all of that was completely useless. Money wouldn’t help Severus home. Fame wouldn’t give them insight to the professor’s whereabouts or condition.

The sun had gone down long ago and his anxiety increased with every passing hour. The blonde had tried to eat dinner, but had been unable to stop his shaking hands long enough to bring a spoonful of soup to his mouth. His godfather was his only means to survival, the only one he could trust in this war who would look out for him and what he needed instead of using him like a pawn in their own agendas. Severus was the only means of safety for him and Harry, if the death eaters found out where they were and were able to penetrate the wards, there was no way he and Harry could protect themselves. He knew a lot of spells, some dark, and he was positive Harry had been studying more advanced hexes this summer as well, but the two of them didn’t stand a chance against a group of trained death eaters—and he was sure it would be a group, if they were coming after Potter.

The silence was deafening.

Harry hadn’t bothered to come downstairs for dinner, not that Draco was surprised in the least, and the blonde figured his roommate was either asleep or studying. He hoped Harry was studying…when the Gryffindor slept, he had visions, which sometimes led to hysterics that the Slytherin child was both unprepared for and unwilling to handle. No, it was best that things remain calm until their guardian returned.

But calm didn’t necessarily mean quiet. What Draco needed was a distraction from waiting. He had tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate on the words in front of him. The blonde had contemplated flying, but he had determined that it would be best to be indoors in case of an attack, close to his roommate who could possibly watch his back during a duel. That left conversation, which meant he’d have to seek out the other boy’s company.

That was out of the question as well. While the two rivals were making remarkable steps towards a pleasant coexistence, they were not friends and he would not allow himself to be the one to make the first move. That would make him seem needy, and a Malfoy never showed a weakness.

He began pacing again, his mind drifting from possible distractions back to the situation at hand. Where was Severus? Was he hurt? Was he even alive? He was so absorbed in his obsessive line of thinking that he didn’t realize he was no longer alone until a hand rested on his shoulder, causing him to jump and emit a squeal that would make a Hufflepuff blush in shame.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Harry said quietly, “It’s getting late, we should get some sleep.”

Draco shook his head adamantly, a scowl on his pale face, “I will do no such thing, I’m going to wait here until Severus returns…he could be back any moment.”

“He knows we’re waiting for him, he’ll wake us when he gets here.” Harry murmured quietly, “It will do him no good if you wear yourself down right now. We’re supposed to be watching out for each other, remember? I’m not going to let you drive yourself insane pacing back and forth in front of the window.”

Draco bristled, a deep frown on his face as he turned to face Harry. He hated being told what to do even more than he hated feeling powerless in such a grave situation. Weren’t Gryffindorks known for seeking trouble so they could save the day? For being brave to the point of being foolish? Potter should be encouraging them to go seek out Severus, to face this head on, not to go to bed like children.

The blonde’s voice was laced with venom as he spat out, “The last thing I will do is be put to bed like a baby, Severus needs us, we need to do something.”

“We’re supposed to stay here, it’s safe here.”

“Since when are you scared of a few death eaters? Since when do you let people get hurt and die just because you’re too cowardly to do something about it?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and Draco thought for sure that would be enough to goad the younger boy into either leaving him alone or agreeing to take some sort of action. While he wanted nothing more than to go searching for his godfather, he wasn’t stupid enough to assume he could do it alone. Instead, the Gryffindor ran his fingers through his messy hair-a habit that Draco noticed he was starting to pick up from his roommate-and sighed loudly.

“Draco…I know he’s really important to you and you want to make sure he’s safe and get him back here, but we can’t just run into this blindly. If there was anything I could do to bring him back right this second, I would. If you’d just listen to me for a few minutes…we can go to bed, get some sleep, and in the morning we’ll be alert enough to formulate a plan.”

A compromise. If he did what Harry felt was best for now, Harry would help him plot in the morning. While it wasn’t the optimal solution, Draco knew that he had lost this battle. With a resigned sigh, he followed his roommate back upstairs and began to get ready for bed.

The young Slytherin hadn’t been asleep for nearly long enough when the screams started. His silver eyes shot open as his mind frantically tried to figure out what was going on, and within seconds he was coherent enough to move to the bed next to his and try to shake the other boy awake.

Harry bolted upright, knocking Draco off the bed as he clawed at his hair, his breathing ragged, sweat glistening on his ashen face.

The blonde stood, brushing his pajama bottoms off as he crossed his arms and glared at Harry, “What’s the point of dragging me to bed if you’re just going to wake me up an hour later?”

“Sod off Draco.” Harry muttered, his breath still coming in short gasps as he buried his face into his drawn knees, “I had a vision.”

“No kidding.”

Harry clearly stiffened at the sarcastic tone Draco had decided to use, and the blonde boy forced himself to try and act more like a friend than an annoyed roommate for a few moments, “Tell me about it.”

“Why should I?”

“I presume it was about Severus?”

Harry nodded, his eyes closed as he managed to take a few deep breaths, “And?”

Draco sat next to his one-time enemy and put a hand on his back, cringing inwardly at the familiarity he was displaying and the general feeling of concern that was emanating off of his usually detached self. As much as he didn’t want to be, Draco found himself concerned for Harry and wishing he could do something to ease the other boy’s pain. At the same time, he hated his mother, Severus and Harry for putting him in this position and setting him up to feel this way about someone he had spent the last few years passionately hating.

“And…” Draco said slowly, “I need to know what’s going on with him and you clearly won’t be going back to sleep any time soon, so you may as well tell me.”

Harry took a deep breath, shivering slightly, “He’s alive.”

“And?”

“And he’s pretty roughed up, but I don’t think they’re going to kill him yet. I don’t know where they’re at, but maybe next time I’ll be able to get more of a sense of their location. Voldemort isn’t too terribly angry, as much as he’s amused by something—probably how easy he was able to fool us all and capture Snape. We have some time…we need to find a way to locate them and save him though.”

“No kidding.” Draco replied darkly, “I can’t wait to get my hands on whatever scumbag infiltrated the school and disposed of Dumbledore. That’s the one place we’re supposed to be safe from all of this insanity.”

“We’re safe here.” Harry whispered with a sigh. He was silent for a few moments before asking, “Do you think Dumbledore’s dead?”

“No.” Draco replied instantly, looking at his roommate as though he had completely lost his mind. If Dumbledore was dead, Voldemort would have completely taken over the school, he would have paraded the elder wizard’s body around like a trophy, he wouldn’t have wasted his time on Severus, he would have come to Harry with his wand drawn.

Harry remained silent for a few moments, then angrily jumped to his feet, swearing loudly, “I can’t believe this is happening. Hogwarts is supposed to be safe. Dumbledore is supposed to be invincible. Snape’s supposed to be here with us. This was supposed to be a quiet summer. I’m sick of just sitting around, we need to figure out where he is and get him out of there…when he’s back, I want the two of you to train me in the dark arts, I want to end this once and for all.”

Draco stepped away from Harry as he began to vent, silently in agreement with the other boy’s emotional outburst. As he watched Harry sink back onto his crimson bed, the jumbled thoughts swimming in Draco’s overwhelmed mind finally fell into place and he grabbed the Gryffindor by the arms, “I think I have a way…but you aren’t going to like it. And it may be dangerous.”