Severus moved to the other side of the desk so quickly that it felt as though he had leapt there in one bound.
"What do you mean you can't find Draco?" he asked, masking his panic with the usual anger.
Harry hesitated, then started speaking so quickly that it was difficult to follow him.
"He wasn't at breakfast, sir, and he wasn't at lunch either. I looked for him in the Slytherin dormitory because he gave me the password—I've been there a few times—but he wasn't there either. I looked for him in the park, I thought he might have been fighting the Dementors, because… he's been able to summon his Patronus for a while now, actually. But I couldn't find him. I tried the Room of Requirement, the one he used to use, his Room of Requirement, but it was empty—except for the usual clutter. But he wasn't there. He's not in the castle, he's not in the park, he's not—"
"Calm down, Potter," he said firmly.
The boy fell quiet, but certainly not calm.
Severus studied him closely. Harry was making a miserable attempt to hide the growing dread written all over his face. It was then that Severus realised just how deeply the two boys had bonded during the months they had been forced to stay at the castle.
He summoned a chair with a flick of his wand and placed it in front of his desk.
"Sit down," he commanded, trying to sound less irritable than usual.
Harry approached the chair uncertainly and hesitated, but finally sat down reluctantly. Severus reached into the cupboard behind his desk, took out a large bottle and a glass, filled it, and handed it to the boy.
Harry looked at it confusedly. "What is it?" he asked.
"Calming Draught," Severus explained. "Drink."
"I don't want to calm down, sir!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. "Draco's missing! We have to find him! We have to—"
"Sit down!" Severus snapped.
For a moment, Harry seemed on the verge of exploding. Eventually, even less willing than before, he sat down again. Severus approached his chair and sat down in front of him.
"Panicking to the point where you can't speak clearly won't solve anything. Drink," he repeated.
Hesitantly, the boy picked up the glass from the desk, turned it around a few times and finally took a sip. Severus watched as his breathing slowed and his pupils dilated slightly in response to the potion.
"So," Severus continued. "Draco. When and where did you last see him?"
"Last night, sir," Harry replied. "He dined with us in the Great Hall, then Ron, Hermione, Ginny and I went to the park. He returned to his dormitory and… to be honest, sir, we argued."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "Did you?" he said dryly.
"He keeps refusing to do his shifts at the shield," Harry explained. "It's been months since he's been able to summon his Patronus, but he keeps pretending he can't. I've had to lie to the others because they wouldn't approve. Especially Ron, he can barely stand him."
"Get to the point, Potter," he urged, rolling his eyes.
The boy shrugged. "He kept refusing. He left and I haven't seen him since. It's not unusual for him to miss breakfast, he often gets up late, he doesn't sleep much. When he didn't come to lunch, I thought he was avoiding me because of the argument, so I went to look for him, to talk to him. To fight with him if necessary, to tell him he can't keep refusing to fight, but I couldn't find him. He's nowhere to be found."
Severus gave him a long, penetrating look. All he could read on his face was genuine concern.
"The castle is protected by a Fidelius Charm. No one can enter or leave without my permission. Draco must be within these walls," he said—half to reassure Harry, half to convince himself.
"Then where is he?" asked the other.
"I don't know," Severus replied.
One of Harry's legs began to tremble nervously. "What do we do? We can't just sit here and hope he reappears."
"He's not missing, Potter," Severus stated, regaining his firm tone. "He's somewhere in the school. He is safe."
The boy looked him in the eye clearly showing his lack of conviction. It annoyed him greatly because he hadn't been convinced by the last three words he'd said either, and empathising with Harry Potter was the last thing he needed at that moment. He quickly looked away and stood up irritably.
"You said you knew the dormitory password?"
Harry stood up as well. "Yes, sir."
"Good," he said. He walked past him and reached the door. "Let's go."
They walked in silence through the dungeon corridors. With each step, the boy's anxiety became more evident on his pale face, and Severus found it increasingly difficult to maintain his usual strict demeanour. When they reached the door of the Slytherin common room, he turned and waited for Harry to open it.
"Narcissus," he whispered.
Severus furrowed his brow.
"The room allowed him to change the password when it realised he was the last student left," Harry explained.
The boy entered the room with a sense of familiarity, heading for the dormitory as if he had done so dozens of times before. Severus followed closely behind him, and a short time later, the two of them crossed the threshold.
He studied the room carefully. It was very different from when he had last seen it: Draco seemed to have decorated it. Various objects were on display on the beds that weren't used for sleeping. There were several books, some trinkets that Severus recognised as part of those piled up in the Room of Requirement, his Quidditch uniform, his school uniform, and a bundle of letters tied with string. His trunk, which was lying empty on the floor in a corner, had clearly been emptied. Draco had treated the dormitory as his home.
"He's not here," Harry pointed out.
"I can see that myself," Severus replied.
He looked around for a few more moments. He observed the books, recognising them as those of a seventh-year student, as well as some that must have been taken from the library. Next to one of the books were several wands. Severus picked up a few and turned to Harry.
"Yes, those…" he said evasively. "Since mine broke and I took his, well… I refused to give it back."
Severus raised an eyebrow. "You… refused to give it back?" he asked gravely.
The boy took a step back. "Well…" he hurried to clarify. "It's just that his is a really good wand, and… I need it, you know, for shield duty, while he refuses to fight. So we took turns for a while. Then he started gathering all the wands he found around the castle. There were quite a few after the first battle. Every day he would come to me with a different one and ask me to try it. He hoped I'd find one I could use better than his."
He gave a faint smile and shook his head.
"I think he started collecting them after a while."
Severus put down the wands and moved to the bundle of letters. He picked them up, turned them over in his hands, then untied the knot that held them together.
"What are you doing, sir?" Harry asked accusingly.
Severus didn't answer.
The boy walked over and stood beside him. "You can't read his letters!"
Severus turned around abruptly and shot him a threatening look that silenced him instantly. Harry swallowed as he threw the string onto the bed and looked at the envelopes.
There were many. Since he had been confined to the castle, Draco seemed to have received at least one letter a day. Severus examined a dozen of them at random and finally realised that they were all written by the same person. Lucius Malfoy.
"Did you know that he and his father wrote to each other?" he asked.
Harry frowned and walked over to look at the envelopes himself.
"No…" he replied softly. "Did you, sir?"
Severus shook his head. He studied the letters for a few minutes, then tied them together with the string, tucked them under his cloak and crossed the room again.
Harry followed him with his gaze. "What now? We can't just—"
"We wait," he cut him off. "Draco has to be in the castle."
"He's not here!" the boy blurted out.
Severus' black eyes darted in his direction. He walked towards him unrelentingly, and Harry met his gaze defiantly.
"Do you think I don't care, Potter?" Severus hissed. "Do you think I would do nothing if I had any reason to suspect that he might have left? He can't have left. I didn't give him permission. Draco is safe."
The last three words were even less convincing than the last time he had uttered them. This time, Harry noticed.
"Then why are you stealing his father's letters, sir?" he asked.
For a moment—a fleeting moment of utter idiocy—when he first returned to the castle after nearly dying, Severus had thought that things might improve slightly between him and the boy. He'd certainly never thought he'd like him. But after noticing the newfound respect Harry seemed to have for him since discovering his loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix, he believed that one day perhaps he'd even be able to share a room with him without feeling compelled to strangle him.
That, Severus thought, must have been part of the temporary loss of sanity caused by the euphoria of having survived. For as he watched the impertinent look behind those round glasses—so awfully reminiscent of the look his father had given him for seven long years—he was more convinced than ever that his desire to see the boy vanish from the face of the earth would never fade.
"Because, Potter, when faced with a problem, before making stupid decisions, you're supposed to stop and think," he growled. "You're supposed to understand. I realise the concept must sound unfamiliar to you. Nevertheless, since it is my help that you have come seeking, and since nobody can leave this castle without my permission, I'm afraid you'll have to do things my way."
Harry kept his eyes fixed on his. His desire to retort was evident in every muscle in his body, but he didn't dare. Severus turned his back on him and quickly headed for the door.
Upon returning to his office, Severus locked the door behind him. He had a feeling that Potter did not consider their conversation over, and he needed to concentrate. He placed the bundle of letters on his desk, sat down, and untied the string that bound them together. He poured himself a drink with a wave of his wand—it was going to be a long night.
There were indeed a lot of letters—too many for one person to read quickly enough to help Draco if he was in danger. Taking a sip, he told himself it would be best to get started as soon as possible; he certainly had no intention of asking anyone for help. He didn't work well with people; anyone else would slow him down. Well, almost anyone else.
"I'm a fast reader," he heard her say.
He pushed Omegas' cunning smile out of his mind with a grunt of annoyance. It was not the time.
He started at the bottom and opened the first envelope. Inside was a photograph of the Malfoy family: mother, father, and son. Still a teenager, Draco wore a smug smile and held his Nimbus 2001 tightly, while his mother rested a hand on his shoulder. Lucius stood next to her with his usual air of importance. He lingered for a few moments on that sharp features and long blonde hair. Once so familiar, that face now seemed to belong to another life; to someone else's memories.
In happier times, Lucius Malfoy had been one of the few people he considered a friend. Apart from Lily, he was the only person who had treated him like a human being during his early years at Hogwarts—albeit very differently to her. He remembered how he made him feel when they walked the corridors together as teenagers. It was the first time Severus had experienced the quiet yet intoxicating thrill of feeling protected. The unhealthy pleasure of having someone powerful enough at his side to make him untouchable.
With that in mind, he told himself that he had given the matter far too much thought, and started reading.
It was not pleasant. In his initial letters, Lucius mostly talked about his wife. He said he was heartbroken and devastated by her loss, and he asked his son to come back to him. Draco did not respond to those letters; the subsequent ones were of a similar nature, but grew increasingly desperate.
At first, Lucius asked his son to come back. After a few weeks, he was pleading. After a month had passed, he was practically begging.
Some of the letters were very desperate. Phrases such as 'Your mother would have wanted the family to stay together' and 'Narcissa would have wanted you to be safe' were repeated with growing urgency and poignancy. Then, after dozens of identical letters, a different one arrived—a sign that a reply had been sent between this and the previous one.
Dear Draco,
I am deeply hurt by your accusations. Your mother chose to risk her life in the hope of reuniting the family. Suggesting that her actions, and the ensuing reaction from the Dark Lord, are my responsibility belittles the sacrifice Narcissa endured to bring you home. Wherever you are, it is not where she would want you to be. Please come back to us. I do not know how much longer I can convince the others that you are being held against your will. Your aunt suspects something. Come back before it is too late.
I hope to see you again soon.
Your father,
LM
Severus gripped the letter tightly, his anger rising. Lucius had stood by while Voldemort coldly murdered the woman he was supposed to love. Even after her death, he had remained loyal to Voldemort—and he had the audacity to accuse his son of dishonouring her memory?
Before he realised it, he had clenched the piece of paper in his hands so tightly that it crumpled. He threw it onto the desk ungracefully and moved on to the next letter—and the next, and the next.
Halfway through the bundle of envelopes, Severus noticed that Lucius was showing an uncharacteristically keen interest in finding out where his son was. The questions were subtly woven into seemingly unrelated conversations. He wondered why. Surely Lucius must have guessed that Draco was at Hogwarts, given that he had seen him fleeing with Harry Potter in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.
The answer to his puzzlement came a few letters later.
Dear Draco,
Your continued insistence that you are not at Hogwarts only serves to increase my concern. If you are there, please let me know. If the castle is inaccessible, I would be powerless to reach you, but at least I would know that you are safe. If you are anywhere outside the school, then you are in great danger. Please let me help you. Remember that this house is always ready to welcome you back.
I hope you are safe.
Your father,
LM
He read for hours, trying to guess what Draco's answers would be. The boy must have been so frightened that he couldn't even tell his father he was in the castle, despite its extensive protection. That must be why he refused to take his turn on the shield.
Severus realised that he had never seen Draco in the park until a few nights before. He had been too scared to wait by the door of the Room of Requirement when they went on missions; he must have feared someone was following them. He had waited for him in his office, far from the Vanishing Cabinet.
Suddenly, Severus understood. There was a way to leave the castle without asking his permission; a way to escape without breaking the Fidelius Charm. The Vanishing Cabinet. But the Cabinet would have led him straight to the Ministry. If he passed through it, he would end up in a place under Death Eater control. Why would he ever do that?
As he pondered the question, Severus' gaze fell upon the last letter the boy had received. It was different: there was no Malfoy family crest, no fancy paper, no seals and no return address. Just a plain white envelope.
He opened it. Inside was a note with a few words scrawled on it. They seemed to have been written in a hurry; there was no trace of Lucius Malfoy's usual rigid elegance.
They know about the Wand. It's not Severus, it's you. We saw you. Run, before it's too late.
LM
Severus read that note at least twenty times.
They know about the Wand. It's not Severus, it's you.
It clearly referred to the Elder Wand, but it made no sense. He was the one who killed Dumbledore, not Draco. Voldemort knew that. Bellatrix was there when it happened, and her master had no reason to doubt her.
It's not Severus, it's you.
How could it be him? Was it just a way to lure him out? Severus felt the panic take hold of him again. If Draco had believed his father and feared for his safety, there was a real possibility that he had left. He opened a drawer in his desk and quickly stuffed the other letters into it. He looked at the clock above his head; it was late. Still holding the last note, he stood up and hurried out of his office.
The school was in chaos once more. The students who had remained in the castle paced the corridors; some boldly, some determinedly, and some pale and frightened.
Severus walked over to the stairs and glanced furtively at the new hospital wing. Someone was lying on the white beds again. He hurried up the stairs and reached the main doors. The corridor was empty, and the large wooden doors were barred by two new stone statues holding crossed spears. He approached a nearby window, also barred so that it could not be opened, and looked out at the park through the thick glass.
The Dementors had finally done it. The shield was beginning to wear away. Above the golden dome, more Dementors than he had ever seen before were hovering in the air. The grass below the barrier was freezing, and the mist was so thick that it barely allowed a glimpse of the edge of the park.
Riddle has every Dementor in England on his side. If he wanted to, he could destroy the shield in ten minutes, and all the Patronuses in the world wouldn't be enough to drive them away.
Omegas was right.
Severus turned and strode towards the Great Hall, certain that the Order must have gathered, given the situation. He was not wrong. Professor McGonagall, more rigid and worried than ever, was standing in front of the High Table where the members of the Order were seated, each with a distinct air of dread. When he saw him enter, Harry rose to his feet.
"Professor!"
Severus reached the table; Sirius didn't even wait for him to sit down before addressing him in anything but friendly terms.
"Where the hell were you, Snape? Relaxing in your office while we were out fighting Dementors?"
"I wasn't relaxing, Black," he said sourly. "I was—"
"They managed to get in!" he retorted, jumping to his feet. "They managed to get through the shield because there weren't enough Patronuses to—"
"ENOUGH!" Harry thundered.
The other two fell silent and looked at him. The intensity of his gaze was so powerful that Severus faltered briefly. It was only after a tense pause that he realised Harry Potter had just silenced him. He lowered his gaze, then raised it again, determined to spit out words venomous enough to haunt the boy for the rest of his life. As he was about to begin, however, he noticed that Harry's fierce gaze wasn't aimed at him. It was fixed on Sirius.
"It wouldn't have made any difference if he'd been there, you know that," he said firmly. "Professor Snape was looking for Draco. He wasn't relaxing."
For the next thirty seconds, not a sound could be heard at that table. Sirius looked at Harry in obvious shock. Professor McGonagall glanced from Sirius to Harry to Severus several times, while everyone else in the meeting exchanged glances. Finally, Sirius sat down in silence, his godson's stern eyes still fixed on him. Harry stood with his head held high and his fists clenched on the wooden table as he turned to face Severus.
"Have you found anything, sir?" he asked.
Severus glanced around a few times. The sight of Sirius Black stubbornly looking elsewhere and pretending that the previous exchange hadn't happened gave him the urge to grin. He held himself back—partly because they had more pressing matters to discuss; partly because he didn't want to give Harry Potter the impression that he approved of something he had done.
He reached out to the boy and handed him the crumpled note without saying a word. Harry took it and held it up to his face. He turned as pale as a ghost as he read it.
"Do you know what this means?" Severus asked, his tone just a hint less hostile than usual.
Harry clenched the note in his hands and sat down again. "Yes," he breathed.
Severus waited, but the boy did not speak. He sat motionless, growing paler by the second, staring at the hastily scribbled words on the piece of paper.
"So?" Severus urged.
Harry looked up at him, guilt evident in his eyes. When he spoke again a few moments later, his voice was a trembling whisper.
"The… the Elder Wand must be won."
Severus frowned. "I know that, Potter," he snapped. "I won it. I killed Dumbledore."
"Won," the boy mumbled. "Not… necessarily by killing."
He locked eyes with him again. Severus pondered, his forehead furrowed and his eyes narrowed to slits.
Suddenly, the memory of the night he had killed Dumbledore flashed through his mind. He saw himself once again pointing his wand at him and casting the Killing Curse. But this time, something new caught his attention; something he had never noticed in all the times he had relived the memory. Dumbledore wasn't holding his wand.
Finally, he understood.
"Draco," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Draco disarmed Dumbledore that night, didn't he?"
Harry nodded.
"So it's him… he's the owner, not me," he realised.
It's not Severus, it's you.
He looked back at Harry and found that he was shaking his head.
"I disarmed him," he murmured. He swallowed loudly and looked at him desperately. "I disarmed Draco. I took his wand. I won it."
Severus understood again, his eyes wide, his lips parted.
"You are the owner of the Elder Wand."
Harry nodded.
"Does Draco know?" Severus asked.
The boy shook his head. "I…" he began, but seemed unable to continue. He swallowed again and lowered his gaze. "I didn't tell him. I was afraid… I was afraid that…"
Severus' face twisted in pure contempt. "You were afraid he would betray us," he stated. It wasn't a question.
Harry looked away guiltily. "It's my fault," he whispered. "If I had told him… if I had talked to him, he would have come to me. If I had told him that Voldemort had to defeat me to get the Wand, not him, maybe he would have told his father. They would have taken me instead of him. It's my fault."
"Taken?" Hermione interjected. "Harry, they can't have taken him! No one can get in or out of the castle, the Death Eaters can't even see him! Draco must still be here."
"No, he doesn't," Severus said.
She fell silent and turned to him.
"The Vanishing Cabinet," he explained. "Draco knows exactly how to use it. It's the only way to leave the castle without my permission."
A faint whisper rose around the table.
"That means," Professor McGonagall intervened, "that he must have gone of his own free will. Doesn't he, Severus?"
Severus nodded gravely. "Draco was seen. The Death Eaters weren't sure he was at Hogwarts. He lied to his father in his letters, he never revealed he was at the castle. The three who came on patrol must have been here to look for him, but he never went out into the park. Except…"
He paused briefly as he recalled the memory.
"One night. He showed me his Patronus. He was seen. One of the three, I think it was his father. He was sent here to identify him."
"I insisted he fight with the others…" Harry muttered.
"Harry, it's not your fault," Ginny started.
"Yes, it is…"
Something in the boy's teary eyes and the obvious lump in his throat that cracked his tone awakened a series of emotions in Severus that he would have preferred to have remained dormant. Before he could realise it, the words 'I did it' echoed in his mind. He watched as he brought his hands to his face, as if to hide behind them.
"They took him. They took him because of me," he repeated.
"Nobody took him," Lupin interrupted. "The Vanishing Cabinet is locked. I made sure after Tonks died. No one could have entered the castle through it. He must have run away."
Harry met Lupin's gaze in silence for a while, then bowed his head again.
"No," he said. "He wouldn't have. He would never have left the castle without saying anything. If he had known about the Wand, he would have come to me."
"Harry…" Hermione murmured sympathetically. "When he found out they were looking for him, maybe he got scared. Maybe he thought that running away was the only—"
"No," he repeated. "He didn't run away. He wouldn't have."
"Harry, but if Lupin says—" Ron began.
"HE DIDN'T RUN AWAY!" Harry shouted.
Everyone fell silent as the boy rose from his chair, clenched his fists on the table and glared at each of them. He sighed heavily, slowly regaining some semblance of composure.
"He didn't run away. If he left the castle, it's because someone forced him to," he declared.
Severus approached with slow steps. Inside him, two different impulses fought against each other as he tried to decide which words to use. The first, the usual one, was to open his mouth and utter the ones he knew would make him suffer the most. He thought of saying, 'It is a bit late show him such a trust, isn't it, Potter?'
But he couldn't. Even he, to be quite honest, couldn't find an explanation for Draco's sudden disappearance that didn't involve a voluntary departure. Yet the boy was there, firmly defending what had against all odds become his friend.
Severus considered reassuring him. He thought of saying, 'The Death Eaters would have come after him anyway. They wouldn't have believed your story—they would have wanted to get him anyway. It's not your fault. You didn't do it.'
The impulse lasted just long enough for him to realise its presence and reject it. When he finally found himself looking at his bowed head, Severus took a middle ground.
"How do you think they got him, Potter?" he asked.
It wasn't sarcasm; it was an honest question.
Harry looked at him with a pair of hopeful eyes that made him instantly regret giving in to that understanding.
"You believe me, Professor?"
Severus looked away. "I trust Draco," he said coldly.
Harry nodded.
"But how is that possible?" Hermione countered. "If he didn't leave the castle on purpose, then how—"
"I have a theory," a voice said from behind him.
Severus turned around. Upon hearing that inappropriately calm tone, he briefly considered that he had lost control of his mind again. When he saw Omegas approaching the long High Table with measured steps, he thought it must be his brain once again conjuring her up to prompt him to think.
But as she came closer, her purple eyes fixing on him for an instant, doubt began to creep in. She couldn't be a product of his mind. Not even in his wildest fantasies had that shade of purple been so vibrant.
It was only when he looked around and found dozens of astonished eyes fixed on her that he was finally convinced of the undeniable truth before him.
Omegas was back.