Title: Pursuing
Author: Kayelle
Email: kayelle09yahoo.ca
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, this universe, or anything except the plot. JK Rowling and some really big companies own them.
Rating: R
Pairing: HPSS
Warnings: none
Summary: When Harry disappears, Severus goes after him.
Thanks to my very helpful beta Laura, who taught me some basics in English verb tenses. Any error or awkward phrasing is due to my being too stubborn to follow some of her advises.
---
December 18th, 2001
Upon opening the front door and seeing two grim looking policemen waiting on the porch, Petunia Dursley turned white, imagining every possible and impossible horrible scenario.
"Did something happen to my son?"
Petunia might not be a very bright woman, but she was not blind. She knew her son's 'activities' were neither legal nor safe. She just didn't know how to talk to him or reason with him. Especially these days, when he kept coming home at dawn with either a blank face and glazed eyes or laughing hysterically at nothing.
"Not that we know of, ma'am. Are you Mrs. Dursley?"
She nodded.
"My name is Agent Doleus and this is my colleague Agent Burns. According to our records you are the guardian of a Mister Harry Potter?"
Petunia blanched even more. Well, it was on record. "I used to be."
"It was certainly hard to find you, Mrs. Dursley. Harry Potter had no medical records and was not enrolled in any high school. We actually had to go back to primary school to find a family member."
"Guardian, and he was home schooled. Why are you here?"
"Is Mister Potter here? Or do you know where to find him?"
Petunia knew what to say. Vernon had made her rehearse it enough. "No, he ran away from here as soon as he turned eighteen. I haven't seen him since."
The policeman looked at his partner. "Could be."
"Did you file a missing persons report?" he continued. "We didn't see one in the archives."
"Of course we did. We tried, at least." Petunia silently praised her husband's foresight for the detailed story. "But he left voluntarily and was an adult. He was associating with a bad crowd and wanted nothing to do with a normal life. They told us it was his choice and that there was nothing they could do." She did her best to hide the disgust and put on a hopeful face. "Did you find him? After all this time?"
"Maybe." He explained how they found a man in his early twenties, unconscious in a park in London. How he had no identification on him, only a letter addressed to 'Potter'. How the photographs in the paper brought forth no one who knew him. How they finally tried to track down a relative of each man named Potter of similar age that they could find, since it was the only clue they had.
He left out how his sergeant thought it was a funny way to punish them with a boring just short of impossible task for giving his daughter a speeding ticket. Honestly, how were they supposed to know it was his daughter!
The policeman pulled out a picture. "Now please look carefully, since you haven't seen the boy in four years. Is this Harry Potter?"
Petunia looked at the black haired man, lying on a hospital bed, blackened eyes, red angry marks on his left cheek and a tube coming out of his mouth. But all she saw was the pale, now almost white zigzagging scar on his forehead.
"No," she answered in a sure tone. They seemed hesitant to leave so quickly, clearly wanting to shove the horrible picture in her face again so she could have a longer look at it. She added quickly: "He was a red head," and slammed the door before it could happen.
"Well," said Doleus to Burns wearily, "five down, three to go".
---
"Potter,
I have received your missive and although I doubt I could teach anything of value regarding my area of expertise to those dunderheads you call students, I am still sure I have a better chance at it than you do.
Let me know of a date, and I'll work it out with Albus.
S.S."
---
December 23rd, 2001
Severus Snape was seething. Honestly, the nerve of the brat was growing by the day. It had been almost a week since he so generously offered to help Harry with his job as an instructor to the juniors aurors for the potions section of the program. There was still no reply, and his second owl just returned unanswered this morning.
This was certainly no way to treat a friend. He paused. No, not a friend. There was no way he was friends with a Potter. They were... colleagues. Well, not anymore really. Since the end of the war, the Order only met once every few months. They exchanged the occasional owl, and met periodically to discuss current events. Discussions between them were comfortable. That made them acquaintances. Right, perhaps that was a bit of an understatement, since they spent the better part of two years trying to invade each others mind with those thrice damned remedial potions lessons.
He was interrupted in his musing by Dumbledore entering his office. "I am sorry I was delayed Severus. Now what did you wish to discuss with me so early in the morning?"
"It's Potter. He's not answering my owls!" He went on ranting about the nerve of Potters, father and son, never stopping his nervous pacing around the office.
"Now calm down Severus", said Albus once he managed to make sense of the situation. "Surely you're overreacting. Harry is a young man, free of responsibilities for the first time in his life. He is on holidays from his job for Christmas, the first one since Voldemort's demise. You know how that can be. Don't you think he may simply be, um, enjoying his free time? He'll respond when he has a moment. Great idea this collaboration of yours, by the way."
"What?" Severus sputtered, stunned. Harry was certainly not without responsibilities. Or enjoying his free time. Or young.
"Now why don't you join us today in the celebrations. The opening of the new wing, offering higher level courses for the young and the slightly less young: this is a great day for Hogwarts. There are a lot of guests, and I am sure the journalists are dying to have a word with you," he added, eyes twinkling. "You have been quite publicly silent since the end of the war. And are you still sure you can't be persuaded to offer an advanced Potions curriculum?"
Albus had a way of making you feel as if you were having an entirely different conversation than him. "You must be joking. You'll do nothing but sit here twinkling, while Potter is probably still managing to run head first into trouble? You know there is no such thing as overreacting whenever he's involved."
"Well," answered Albus, a bit peeved, "if you are so worried, why don't you drop everything, cancel your classes for this last day of term and fly over there to rescue him from his not-answering-letters state."
"Perhaps I should," said Severus, pensively. He did know where Harry lived. They had stayed there together for almost a month while on a surveillance mission a year and a half ago. Severus had hated the small Muggle London flat with a passion. Harry loved it so much that he had rented it ever since. "Right," he added standing quickly. "I trust you will inform the students about my classes. Good day."
Albus watched as his Potions master went through the door without another word. He would have sworn he heard Fawkes laughing at him. "Well," he said to the bird, "maybe I should leave the sarcasm to Severus and stick with lemon drops. I am obviously very bad at it."
---
June 6th, 2000
Severus was pacing in front of the contraption, trying to work out this puzzle. For the first time in his life, his intellect seemed to be letting him down. He just could not make sense of the device. He glared at it instead. It was oddly satisfying, even if it lacked the usual terrified reaction that usually came with the act.
When Potter came into the room, he transferred his glared to the living being. It was oddly unsatisfying.
"I want coffee", he said, returning the glare onto its previous victim. The 'no magic' rule on this surveillance mission was getting to him. How likely were they to have their location pinpointed by a simple spell anyway? Hideout smideout.
Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He went to set the coffeemaker. "Glaring at it won't do any good, Severus." He hesitated, clearly assessing the other man's mood, then opened his mouth.
"Potter," he warned in his deadliest tone, "don't say a bloody word."
Potter continued anyway. "I could show you how to use it. You know, again. "
Severus stalked out of the room, robes flowing behind him, while Harry snickered under his breath.
---
December 23rd, 2001
Harry's flat proved to be completely devoid of anything that might indicate his whereabouts. Plus it gave Severus bad flashbacks about various household items. He left quickly after feeding a very disgruntled snowy owl and opening a window for her to stretch her wings. Obviously Harry hadn't been home for at least a few days, and it was unlike him to neglect Hedwig. He watched her fly away and silently cursed himself for not thinking of taking Harry's broom and following her. She was a smart owl. Then he remembered his ability on a broom, or lack thereof, and silently praised himself for dismissing it unconsciously. He was a smart man, gifted with a strong survival instinct.
Since the other two thirds of the Gryffindor trio were on a trip together for the holidays - Albus was still rambling about his Transfiguration teacher missing the Grand Opening - the next logical stop was Harry's office at the ministry. The wards surrounding it were ridiculously complicated. Severus let himself feel proud about transmitting his paranoia to the man over the years. The gloating self-righteous feeling dropped considerably after it took over an hour to break through them.
The office held no clue either. Although there might be one or two, somewhere underneath the clutter of books, parchments, documents, quills, reports, maps, essays, dirty robes, and were those Grindylows in that aquarium in the corner? He even found a few potions books in the mess. He double-checked to be sure it was Potter's name on the door.
"I hope those students of yours don't know the fate of their hard work Potter" he scolded aloud, side-stepping carefully between piles of essays on the floor. He wondered if Harry demanded the same dedication from his junior aurors he had once imposed on himself when he decided to read through the entire Hogwarts library for a way to defeat Voldemort. He certainly had been intent on his research, and it had proven fruitful.
---
October 14th, 1998
Snape arrived for lunch in the Great hall to find everyone already in place eating. He sat down in the only chair still available, between Trelawney and Potter. His mood went down considerably. The divination fraud was eyeing him and his tea leaves in anticipation, so he turned to the lesser of the two evils. After all, since the boy had stayed part of the last summer at his home, he was one of the four people Severus could tolerate discussion with. Occasionally. If absolutely necessary.
Potter was engrossed in a large medical book, and several others were piled before his plate. Seeing Trelawney lean dangerously closer to him on his right and open her mouth, he plunged ahead. "Are you planning on becoming a medi-wizard Potter?" he asked, a bit appalled with himself for initiating chit chat.
Potter looked up from his book to him, eyes open wide. Severus frowned. There was no need for him to seem so damn surprised. The boy then caught sight of the divination threat looming over Severus' shoulder and his expression switched to one of understanding. "No, sir. I spend too much time in various hospitals as it is." Mischievously, he added: "I am in fact researching for a way to get rid of Voldemort."
Trelawney dropped her teacup on the floor at hearing the forbidden name spoken so casually. It shattered loudly, bringing teachers and students alike to stop talking and stare at her. She blushed, embarrassed. Severus smirked. Maybe there were a few benefits to this 'no-fear-of-the-name' rule of Albus'. He ought to consider it. Trewlaney backed off, but he was genuinely intrigued now. "Do you plan on healing him to death?"
Potter looked amused. "I was wondering if we had to kill him, Professor. Incapacitation might be enough. I'm looking into prolonged magical comas."
"Hmm. Not a bad idea in principle Potter, but even while in a coma, he would probably be able to drain enough of the Death Eater's magical energy through the marks to wake himself up."
Potter now looked faintly ill. He closed the book and placed it on top of the others. "Well, so much for that idea."
"Don't look so defeated. It was at least an original idea. We have not had one of those for some time." He wondered about that for a minute. "Now that you've graduated, I understand you're assisting Madam Pince in between the Order's training sessions?"
"I am. Keeps me from boring myself to death." He paused and actually seemed to consider attacking the dark lord with boredom for a few seconds before dismissing it. "I think I understand Hermione's obsession with books a little better now."
"Well, a fresh perspective might be a good idea. You might find something we've overlooked because of old patterns in our thinking. We have been pondering the subject for twenty years."
"I'll do my best sir!" he said in a pleased voice.
"I will make sure that you have access to the restricted section. We can discuss your findings before our duelling sessions."
Potter looked disgustingly happy for someone about to peruse through ancients texts filled with various monstrous ways of killing people. Albus seemed to have overheard the conversation because he gave Severus a disapproving look. He responded with a slight sneer. It's not like they could shield the boy from dark knowledge forever. His duelling training was all fine and dandy, but the Dark Lord was not about to crumble under a cheering charm. And Potter looked determined.
The next few months proved to Severus that he was.
-
"Blasting curse focused on his soul followed by dissipating spell."
"Efficient on material targets only."
-
"Locator Spell."
"Necessity of a pure intent towards the wanted person."
-
"How about muggle weaponry?"
"He has permanent shields capable of countering physical attacks."
-
"We could summon Death, point to Voldemort and say 'that one'."
Severus kept a straight face. "I hadn't considered that."
-
That routine began every single one of their training sessions for several months. It was reassuring, like this was their way of saying they hadn't given up yet. As long as they were still searching for a solution, they were not beaten. Even if some days the suggestion was clearly unusable, desperate or just plain silly, there always was one.
Then one day Potter came into his office clutching an old dusty book to his chest. His face was blank but his eyes bright as he opened the tome, placed it on the desk and pushed it in front of him. He pointed with a trembling hand to a small passage at the bottom of the fading page. Severus scanned the few sentences quickly. Then he read them slower, twice. Baffled, he looked up to see Potter's wicked grin.
"Now's a good time to resume those remedial potions lessons, sir. It took me eight months to learn occlumency once I was properly motivated. With this as a motivation, I'll be a decent legilimens in four."
Severus stared. "Let's say six, Potter. You'll need to be more than decent for this to work."
---
December 23rd, 2001
After closing the door to Harry's office and replacing the wards, he left promptly. The memory of Harry suggesting spells in those training sessions had given him an idea. It was a good idea, really. Making it possible was another story. A Locator spell was easy enough to perform, but its highly intrusive nature had led it to be equally highly restricted. Wizards were particular about their privacy, and when it was discovered a few centuries ago that a bit of magic could tell the caster where anyone they knew well was at any time, panic flared. Restriction on the spell's use were therefore rapidly instated.
That was why on top of the several elements the magic itself demanded, a ton of paperwork was also required. Long, boring paperwork, which was then to be studied extensively and very rarely approved by endless rows of nameless bureaucrats. A bad feeling he had about the whereabouts of hero of the wizarding world was not about to satisfy the requirements.
He couldn't cast it without permission though. The Improper Use of Magic Office team assigned to the permanent surveillance of illegal casting was especially efficient. Goyle Senior experienced it when he was dumb enough to attempt using it to locate Potter during the war. He thought he would find him and bring him himself to the Dark Lord, earning a higher rank in the inner circle. Fool! Not only did the spell fail - Goyle didn't exactly had a pure intent towards Potter - but the Ministry recorded the attempt immediately and apparated right in the middle of the second most important Death Eaters hideout. He had been told the angry looks some of the arrested and bound Death Eaters gave their dimmed witted friend made him piss himself. All in all, a good day for the light.
Passing in front of the portrait of the current Minister for Magic in the Ministry building entrance hall, he smirked. He did have friends in high places. Useful thing, really.
---
January 15th, 2001
McGonagall was pacing the large room at Grimmauld Place reserved for Order meetings. Most of the other members present seemed to be trying to decide whether to stop or join her.
"I cannot believe the only candidate running for election is that pompous idiot Umbridge. When the people, after years of continued idiocy, finally threw Fudge out of office I though it would get better. Such a fine day. I never thought anyone could actually be worse. And the military government was necessary, but not too bad. Shacklebolt did a good job. Why is it that he can't continue? Can we force him to run? Who decided to approve that overgrown power hungry flowery pink toad as a valid candidate anyway? Wasn't she supposed to have been traumatised by angry vengeful centaurs? Can we demand a psychological evaluation? Who should we pit against her? We have to support someone!" Her tone turned desperate. "Does anyone have a valid suggestion?"
"You would make a great Minister for Magic, Professor McGonagall", responded Potter calmly. "You would have a lot of support too."
McGonagall's eyes widened. "Please Potter, this is ludicrous," she scoffed, stunned.
The campaign proved she did have a lot of support. Granger took over the Transfiguration and Head of Griffindor post at the school. Severus was offered the Deputy headmastership, but the choice between dealing with even more students as Deputy or continuing his ongoing Wolfbane research wasn't a hard one to make. Professor Flitwick was doing a great job of it anyway.
---
December 23rd, 2001
It turned out that getting a meeting with the Minister for Magic at a few moments notice wasn't that easy. The secretary assigned at triage wouldn't even tell Minerva he was there. He had to resort to other methods, telling her he was working for Dumbledore and was here on a vital mission. It wasn't false; he was working for the powerful barmy wizard and he was on an important mission. That she assumed the two distinct facts were related was no concern of his.
It worked quite well.
Minerva appeared very busy indeed, given it was the day before the holidays. Who knew ministers actually had something to do? Perhaps she was the exception.
She nevertheless took a break and offered him tea, happy to see an old colleague. After the habitual niceties and good wishes were exchanged, she placed her empty cup on the tray. "Since I spoke to Albus yesterday, I take it you're not really here on his behalf. I'll have to tell my human wall that in the future they are to always let you in."
"Thank you." He paused. "I'm here because I need to bypass paperwork and authorisations for a locator spell."
She looked surprised. "That's highly irregular. Without the usual authorisation charm by an approved ministry official, the DLE will be on you in an instant when you cast it."
"I know all that. That's precisely the reason I need the bypass."
"Why not do the paperwork?"
"To keep it quiet from ministry archives and reporters."
"Who?"
"Harry Potter." His mask still blank, he waited for the information to sink in.
Minerva didn't seem happy. "I was not informed that he needed to be located."
"No one was. My instincts only."
She looked at him, then nodded. She wrote something on an official piece of parchment, spelled it and gave it to him. "Show this at the Special Permit Office. There will be no questions. And don't tell Potter it was me who gave permission for this if you barge in on him while he's showering or something."
"Thank you Minerva", he said standing up to leave.
Her voice took a teasing edge. "You know it won't work if you have any ill designs or feelings for the person you're searching for."
Seriously, he replied: "And you know very well I haven't wished ill towards Potter for many years now."
---
Author: Kayelle
Email: kayelle09yahoo.ca
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, this universe, or anything except the plot. JK Rowling and some really big companies own them.
Rating: R
Pairing: HPSS
Warnings: none
Summary: When Harry disappears, Severus goes after him.
Thanks to my very helpful beta Laura, who taught me some basics in English verb tenses. Any error or awkward phrasing is due to my being too stubborn to follow some of her advises.
---
December 18th, 2001
Upon opening the front door and seeing two grim looking policemen waiting on the porch, Petunia Dursley turned white, imagining every possible and impossible horrible scenario.
"Did something happen to my son?"
Petunia might not be a very bright woman, but she was not blind. She knew her son's 'activities' were neither legal nor safe. She just didn't know how to talk to him or reason with him. Especially these days, when he kept coming home at dawn with either a blank face and glazed eyes or laughing hysterically at nothing.
"Not that we know of, ma'am. Are you Mrs. Dursley?"
She nodded.
"My name is Agent Doleus and this is my colleague Agent Burns. According to our records you are the guardian of a Mister Harry Potter?"
Petunia blanched even more. Well, it was on record. "I used to be."
"It was certainly hard to find you, Mrs. Dursley. Harry Potter had no medical records and was not enrolled in any high school. We actually had to go back to primary school to find a family member."
"Guardian, and he was home schooled. Why are you here?"
"Is Mister Potter here? Or do you know where to find him?"
Petunia knew what to say. Vernon had made her rehearse it enough. "No, he ran away from here as soon as he turned eighteen. I haven't seen him since."
The policeman looked at his partner. "Could be."
"Did you file a missing persons report?" he continued. "We didn't see one in the archives."
"Of course we did. We tried, at least." Petunia silently praised her husband's foresight for the detailed story. "But he left voluntarily and was an adult. He was associating with a bad crowd and wanted nothing to do with a normal life. They told us it was his choice and that there was nothing they could do." She did her best to hide the disgust and put on a hopeful face. "Did you find him? After all this time?"
"Maybe." He explained how they found a man in his early twenties, unconscious in a park in London. How he had no identification on him, only a letter addressed to 'Potter'. How the photographs in the paper brought forth no one who knew him. How they finally tried to track down a relative of each man named Potter of similar age that they could find, since it was the only clue they had.
He left out how his sergeant thought it was a funny way to punish them with a boring just short of impossible task for giving his daughter a speeding ticket. Honestly, how were they supposed to know it was his daughter!
The policeman pulled out a picture. "Now please look carefully, since you haven't seen the boy in four years. Is this Harry Potter?"
Petunia looked at the black haired man, lying on a hospital bed, blackened eyes, red angry marks on his left cheek and a tube coming out of his mouth. But all she saw was the pale, now almost white zigzagging scar on his forehead.
"No," she answered in a sure tone. They seemed hesitant to leave so quickly, clearly wanting to shove the horrible picture in her face again so she could have a longer look at it. She added quickly: "He was a red head," and slammed the door before it could happen.
"Well," said Doleus to Burns wearily, "five down, three to go".
---
"Potter,
I have received your missive and although I doubt I could teach anything of value regarding my area of expertise to those dunderheads you call students, I am still sure I have a better chance at it than you do.
Let me know of a date, and I'll work it out with Albus.
S.S."
---
December 23rd, 2001
Severus Snape was seething. Honestly, the nerve of the brat was growing by the day. It had been almost a week since he so generously offered to help Harry with his job as an instructor to the juniors aurors for the potions section of the program. There was still no reply, and his second owl just returned unanswered this morning.
This was certainly no way to treat a friend. He paused. No, not a friend. There was no way he was friends with a Potter. They were... colleagues. Well, not anymore really. Since the end of the war, the Order only met once every few months. They exchanged the occasional owl, and met periodically to discuss current events. Discussions between them were comfortable. That made them acquaintances. Right, perhaps that was a bit of an understatement, since they spent the better part of two years trying to invade each others mind with those thrice damned remedial potions lessons.
He was interrupted in his musing by Dumbledore entering his office. "I am sorry I was delayed Severus. Now what did you wish to discuss with me so early in the morning?"
"It's Potter. He's not answering my owls!" He went on ranting about the nerve of Potters, father and son, never stopping his nervous pacing around the office.
"Now calm down Severus", said Albus once he managed to make sense of the situation. "Surely you're overreacting. Harry is a young man, free of responsibilities for the first time in his life. He is on holidays from his job for Christmas, the first one since Voldemort's demise. You know how that can be. Don't you think he may simply be, um, enjoying his free time? He'll respond when he has a moment. Great idea this collaboration of yours, by the way."
"What?" Severus sputtered, stunned. Harry was certainly not without responsibilities. Or enjoying his free time. Or young.
"Now why don't you join us today in the celebrations. The opening of the new wing, offering higher level courses for the young and the slightly less young: this is a great day for Hogwarts. There are a lot of guests, and I am sure the journalists are dying to have a word with you," he added, eyes twinkling. "You have been quite publicly silent since the end of the war. And are you still sure you can't be persuaded to offer an advanced Potions curriculum?"
Albus had a way of making you feel as if you were having an entirely different conversation than him. "You must be joking. You'll do nothing but sit here twinkling, while Potter is probably still managing to run head first into trouble? You know there is no such thing as overreacting whenever he's involved."
"Well," answered Albus, a bit peeved, "if you are so worried, why don't you drop everything, cancel your classes for this last day of term and fly over there to rescue him from his not-answering-letters state."
"Perhaps I should," said Severus, pensively. He did know where Harry lived. They had stayed there together for almost a month while on a surveillance mission a year and a half ago. Severus had hated the small Muggle London flat with a passion. Harry loved it so much that he had rented it ever since. "Right," he added standing quickly. "I trust you will inform the students about my classes. Good day."
Albus watched as his Potions master went through the door without another word. He would have sworn he heard Fawkes laughing at him. "Well," he said to the bird, "maybe I should leave the sarcasm to Severus and stick with lemon drops. I am obviously very bad at it."
---
June 6th, 2000
Severus was pacing in front of the contraption, trying to work out this puzzle. For the first time in his life, his intellect seemed to be letting him down. He just could not make sense of the device. He glared at it instead. It was oddly satisfying, even if it lacked the usual terrified reaction that usually came with the act.
When Potter came into the room, he transferred his glared to the living being. It was oddly unsatisfying.
"I want coffee", he said, returning the glare onto its previous victim. The 'no magic' rule on this surveillance mission was getting to him. How likely were they to have their location pinpointed by a simple spell anyway? Hideout smideout.
Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He went to set the coffeemaker. "Glaring at it won't do any good, Severus." He hesitated, clearly assessing the other man's mood, then opened his mouth.
"Potter," he warned in his deadliest tone, "don't say a bloody word."
Potter continued anyway. "I could show you how to use it. You know, again. "
Severus stalked out of the room, robes flowing behind him, while Harry snickered under his breath.
---
December 23rd, 2001
Harry's flat proved to be completely devoid of anything that might indicate his whereabouts. Plus it gave Severus bad flashbacks about various household items. He left quickly after feeding a very disgruntled snowy owl and opening a window for her to stretch her wings. Obviously Harry hadn't been home for at least a few days, and it was unlike him to neglect Hedwig. He watched her fly away and silently cursed himself for not thinking of taking Harry's broom and following her. She was a smart owl. Then he remembered his ability on a broom, or lack thereof, and silently praised himself for dismissing it unconsciously. He was a smart man, gifted with a strong survival instinct.
Since the other two thirds of the Gryffindor trio were on a trip together for the holidays - Albus was still rambling about his Transfiguration teacher missing the Grand Opening - the next logical stop was Harry's office at the ministry. The wards surrounding it were ridiculously complicated. Severus let himself feel proud about transmitting his paranoia to the man over the years. The gloating self-righteous feeling dropped considerably after it took over an hour to break through them.
The office held no clue either. Although there might be one or two, somewhere underneath the clutter of books, parchments, documents, quills, reports, maps, essays, dirty robes, and were those Grindylows in that aquarium in the corner? He even found a few potions books in the mess. He double-checked to be sure it was Potter's name on the door.
"I hope those students of yours don't know the fate of their hard work Potter" he scolded aloud, side-stepping carefully between piles of essays on the floor. He wondered if Harry demanded the same dedication from his junior aurors he had once imposed on himself when he decided to read through the entire Hogwarts library for a way to defeat Voldemort. He certainly had been intent on his research, and it had proven fruitful.
---
October 14th, 1998
Snape arrived for lunch in the Great hall to find everyone already in place eating. He sat down in the only chair still available, between Trelawney and Potter. His mood went down considerably. The divination fraud was eyeing him and his tea leaves in anticipation, so he turned to the lesser of the two evils. After all, since the boy had stayed part of the last summer at his home, he was one of the four people Severus could tolerate discussion with. Occasionally. If absolutely necessary.
Potter was engrossed in a large medical book, and several others were piled before his plate. Seeing Trelawney lean dangerously closer to him on his right and open her mouth, he plunged ahead. "Are you planning on becoming a medi-wizard Potter?" he asked, a bit appalled with himself for initiating chit chat.
Potter looked up from his book to him, eyes open wide. Severus frowned. There was no need for him to seem so damn surprised. The boy then caught sight of the divination threat looming over Severus' shoulder and his expression switched to one of understanding. "No, sir. I spend too much time in various hospitals as it is." Mischievously, he added: "I am in fact researching for a way to get rid of Voldemort."
Trelawney dropped her teacup on the floor at hearing the forbidden name spoken so casually. It shattered loudly, bringing teachers and students alike to stop talking and stare at her. She blushed, embarrassed. Severus smirked. Maybe there were a few benefits to this 'no-fear-of-the-name' rule of Albus'. He ought to consider it. Trewlaney backed off, but he was genuinely intrigued now. "Do you plan on healing him to death?"
Potter looked amused. "I was wondering if we had to kill him, Professor. Incapacitation might be enough. I'm looking into prolonged magical comas."
"Hmm. Not a bad idea in principle Potter, but even while in a coma, he would probably be able to drain enough of the Death Eater's magical energy through the marks to wake himself up."
Potter now looked faintly ill. He closed the book and placed it on top of the others. "Well, so much for that idea."
"Don't look so defeated. It was at least an original idea. We have not had one of those for some time." He wondered about that for a minute. "Now that you've graduated, I understand you're assisting Madam Pince in between the Order's training sessions?"
"I am. Keeps me from boring myself to death." He paused and actually seemed to consider attacking the dark lord with boredom for a few seconds before dismissing it. "I think I understand Hermione's obsession with books a little better now."
"Well, a fresh perspective might be a good idea. You might find something we've overlooked because of old patterns in our thinking. We have been pondering the subject for twenty years."
"I'll do my best sir!" he said in a pleased voice.
"I will make sure that you have access to the restricted section. We can discuss your findings before our duelling sessions."
Potter looked disgustingly happy for someone about to peruse through ancients texts filled with various monstrous ways of killing people. Albus seemed to have overheard the conversation because he gave Severus a disapproving look. He responded with a slight sneer. It's not like they could shield the boy from dark knowledge forever. His duelling training was all fine and dandy, but the Dark Lord was not about to crumble under a cheering charm. And Potter looked determined.
The next few months proved to Severus that he was.
-
"Blasting curse focused on his soul followed by dissipating spell."
"Efficient on material targets only."
-
"Locator Spell."
"Necessity of a pure intent towards the wanted person."
-
"How about muggle weaponry?"
"He has permanent shields capable of countering physical attacks."
-
"We could summon Death, point to Voldemort and say 'that one'."
Severus kept a straight face. "I hadn't considered that."
-
That routine began every single one of their training sessions for several months. It was reassuring, like this was their way of saying they hadn't given up yet. As long as they were still searching for a solution, they were not beaten. Even if some days the suggestion was clearly unusable, desperate or just plain silly, there always was one.
Then one day Potter came into his office clutching an old dusty book to his chest. His face was blank but his eyes bright as he opened the tome, placed it on the desk and pushed it in front of him. He pointed with a trembling hand to a small passage at the bottom of the fading page. Severus scanned the few sentences quickly. Then he read them slower, twice. Baffled, he looked up to see Potter's wicked grin.
"Now's a good time to resume those remedial potions lessons, sir. It took me eight months to learn occlumency once I was properly motivated. With this as a motivation, I'll be a decent legilimens in four."
Severus stared. "Let's say six, Potter. You'll need to be more than decent for this to work."
---
December 23rd, 2001
After closing the door to Harry's office and replacing the wards, he left promptly. The memory of Harry suggesting spells in those training sessions had given him an idea. It was a good idea, really. Making it possible was another story. A Locator spell was easy enough to perform, but its highly intrusive nature had led it to be equally highly restricted. Wizards were particular about their privacy, and when it was discovered a few centuries ago that a bit of magic could tell the caster where anyone they knew well was at any time, panic flared. Restriction on the spell's use were therefore rapidly instated.
That was why on top of the several elements the magic itself demanded, a ton of paperwork was also required. Long, boring paperwork, which was then to be studied extensively and very rarely approved by endless rows of nameless bureaucrats. A bad feeling he had about the whereabouts of hero of the wizarding world was not about to satisfy the requirements.
He couldn't cast it without permission though. The Improper Use of Magic Office team assigned to the permanent surveillance of illegal casting was especially efficient. Goyle Senior experienced it when he was dumb enough to attempt using it to locate Potter during the war. He thought he would find him and bring him himself to the Dark Lord, earning a higher rank in the inner circle. Fool! Not only did the spell fail - Goyle didn't exactly had a pure intent towards Potter - but the Ministry recorded the attempt immediately and apparated right in the middle of the second most important Death Eaters hideout. He had been told the angry looks some of the arrested and bound Death Eaters gave their dimmed witted friend made him piss himself. All in all, a good day for the light.
Passing in front of the portrait of the current Minister for Magic in the Ministry building entrance hall, he smirked. He did have friends in high places. Useful thing, really.
---
January 15th, 2001
McGonagall was pacing the large room at Grimmauld Place reserved for Order meetings. Most of the other members present seemed to be trying to decide whether to stop or join her.
"I cannot believe the only candidate running for election is that pompous idiot Umbridge. When the people, after years of continued idiocy, finally threw Fudge out of office I though it would get better. Such a fine day. I never thought anyone could actually be worse. And the military government was necessary, but not too bad. Shacklebolt did a good job. Why is it that he can't continue? Can we force him to run? Who decided to approve that overgrown power hungry flowery pink toad as a valid candidate anyway? Wasn't she supposed to have been traumatised by angry vengeful centaurs? Can we demand a psychological evaluation? Who should we pit against her? We have to support someone!" Her tone turned desperate. "Does anyone have a valid suggestion?"
"You would make a great Minister for Magic, Professor McGonagall", responded Potter calmly. "You would have a lot of support too."
McGonagall's eyes widened. "Please Potter, this is ludicrous," she scoffed, stunned.
The campaign proved she did have a lot of support. Granger took over the Transfiguration and Head of Griffindor post at the school. Severus was offered the Deputy headmastership, but the choice between dealing with even more students as Deputy or continuing his ongoing Wolfbane research wasn't a hard one to make. Professor Flitwick was doing a great job of it anyway.
---
December 23rd, 2001
It turned out that getting a meeting with the Minister for Magic at a few moments notice wasn't that easy. The secretary assigned at triage wouldn't even tell Minerva he was there. He had to resort to other methods, telling her he was working for Dumbledore and was here on a vital mission. It wasn't false; he was working for the powerful barmy wizard and he was on an important mission. That she assumed the two distinct facts were related was no concern of his.
It worked quite well.
Minerva appeared very busy indeed, given it was the day before the holidays. Who knew ministers actually had something to do? Perhaps she was the exception.
She nevertheless took a break and offered him tea, happy to see an old colleague. After the habitual niceties and good wishes were exchanged, she placed her empty cup on the tray. "Since I spoke to Albus yesterday, I take it you're not really here on his behalf. I'll have to tell my human wall that in the future they are to always let you in."
"Thank you." He paused. "I'm here because I need to bypass paperwork and authorisations for a locator spell."
She looked surprised. "That's highly irregular. Without the usual authorisation charm by an approved ministry official, the DLE will be on you in an instant when you cast it."
"I know all that. That's precisely the reason I need the bypass."
"Why not do the paperwork?"
"To keep it quiet from ministry archives and reporters."
"Who?"
"Harry Potter." His mask still blank, he waited for the information to sink in.
Minerva didn't seem happy. "I was not informed that he needed to be located."
"No one was. My instincts only."
She looked at him, then nodded. She wrote something on an official piece of parchment, spelled it and gave it to him. "Show this at the Special Permit Office. There will be no questions. And don't tell Potter it was me who gave permission for this if you barge in on him while he's showering or something."
"Thank you Minerva", he said standing up to leave.
Her voice took a teasing edge. "You know it won't work if you have any ill designs or feelings for the person you're searching for."
Seriously, he replied: "And you know very well I haven't wished ill towards Potter for many years now."
---