Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. That honor belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am making no money...yada yada yada...blah, blah, blah...

I have added a separate author’s notes chapter, which will move as this story grows. I strongly suggest you always read that first, as that is where I will answer your questions and such from now on.

Severus blinked as Albus Dumbledore’s head abruptly disappeared from the fire. He was attempting to process what had just happened: only a few minutes before, several of his Slytherins had burst into his office to tell him that Potter had gone missing. He had done a remarkable job of appearing indifferent to Harry’s predicament, but inside his intestines were doing a brilliant impression of a strangulated snake. After assuring his children that everything would turn out all right, Severus had coaxed them back to their dormitory and returned just in time to see Albus’s head appear in the fire. Could the Headmaster’s news have to do with Harry? Had Dumbledore found a clue? Perhaps Harry had been there all along...

He tossed a pinch of Floo Powder into the fire, intending to get the message to Minerva as swiftly as possible. But of course, as was typical for her, she was not waiting conveniently in her office on the off-chance that Severus needed to speak with her.

“Minerva!” Severus bellowed, knowing full-well that it would not do any good unless the Transfigurations teacher returned to her office.

As luck would have it, she chose that moment to fling the door open and run to the fire.

“Severus! Whatever is the matter?” she asked, looking terribly frazzled. The effect reminded Severus of a cat he had once kicked as a child.

“Albus needs to see you and I in the defense classroom right away.”

She gasped and brought a hand up to her mouth. “Has something else happened?”

Dense woman. “I can only assume, Minerva, as I’ve been too busy waiting here for you to return from your little escapade in the lion’s den.”

“Esca...Severus honestly! What did you expect me to do? The students are afraid! They need...”

“I don’t give a damn about what you think your Gryffindors need, Minerva. I do, however, want to know what Albus is so frantic about.”

The Transfigurations teacher looked ready to chastise her colleague again, but settled for, “Yes, naturally. I’ll meet you there.”

“Eugh...” Severus grunted, closing the Floo connection. Stupid Gryffindors. They required so much babying. How did Harry ever get sorted there?

A minute later found the Potions Master sprinting down the hall to the staircase which would take him up to the main floor. From there it was only two hallways’ distance to the Defense classroom. Or, at least, it should have been...except the room wasn’t there. Yet, Severus was quite sure that the classrooms in use during the year could not move on their own.

“So where in bloody fucking hell did it go off to?” Severus growled, pulling out his wand. Surely, there was a perfectly good explanation for all of this...and he would find out what it was as soon as he blasted the walls apart and located the damn classroom.

Then it hit him: he was being utterly ridiculous. The Headmaster had probably just used a cloaking spell on the room. If that was the case, Dumbledore could easily hear him yell...

“Albus!” he bellowed, assuming the old man would get the point.

And he did, of course. Dumbledore lifted the cloaking spell far enough to reveal the partially open door to the Defense classroom. Severus could see the older man just inside.

A simple cloaking spell...and the irate man had been ready to blast the school apart. If fear for Harry’s safety did this to him, he was in serious trouble.

“Albus?” he questioned suspiciously, taking several long strides into the room. The Headmaster was pale, staring blankly at something in the middle of the room. Severus hesitated, wondering if it was wise to get much closer without being told. Rarely did anything shock the Headmaster this much: what would Severus see if he looked behind those desks?

Suddenly, a single, agonizing thought flooded him. What if it was Harry back there? What if the boy had indeed been here the entire time, just not in the way that Severus had wished? An acidic retch pushed its way up from the man’s stomach. He felt Minerva’s hand on his shoulder, wondering vaguely why he hadn’t noticed her come in. He lifted his head to look to where the Headmaster had been standing, to find he was no longer there. Instead--

“Severus, Minerva...I think you had better see this.” He was kneeling on the floor, over what Severus could still only assume was a body. He did not want to see...did not want to know. If it was Harry lying there...

But he had to find out eventually. Shaking off Minerva’s irritating (though probably well-intentioned...as if Severus cared at this point) comfort, and glaring warily at Dumbledore, Severus took two strides forward and peered over the desks...

...and felt such relief that he actually muttered, “Thank God,” under his breath. He did not do it quietly enough, however, because his cheek soon met with Minerva’s open palm in a very dissatisfying fashion. It took him a moment to realize why his colleague--especially this prim and proper colleague--would abuse him thus. It was true that he had not stepped up to the anguish of seeing Harry dead, but someone’s life had indeed been lost. There, lying before him, was the lifeless body of Professor Michael Branaugh.

Behind him, Minerva had begun hyperventilating, as if holding back a cry. She was obviously not as accustomed as Severus was to seeing death. Glancing back at his female colleague to ensure that she wasn’t about to faint, the Potions Master stepped towards the body and knelt on the stone cold floor. He reached out with his wand, intending to check for signs of life, when--

“Don’t bother, Severus. I tried every test I could think of. He’s dead.”

Severus nodded solemnly. He was trying to theorize how this man could have ended up dead and, more importantly (at least to him), how all of this connected with Harry’s disappearance. Branaugh had been a relatively young man...obviously healthy because of his position as an Auror...so his death was not of natural causes. So who...or what...killed him? It was likely that this same person had been the one who kidnapped Harry, so how had he (/she/it?) gotten on the grounds in the first place?

“It had to have been Branaugh,” Dumbledore interjected quietly, giving Severus the impression--not for the first time--that the Headmaster could read his mind. “He had to have been the traitor to let a Death Eater onto the grounds...”

Severus nodded. It did seem the best explanation. The other teachers and staff could be trusted after their long years of service to the school, and the house Aurors were Dumbledore’s own loyal force...and surely no student...

“Could it not have been a student, Albus?” Minerva offered, making Severus flinch slightly in surprise. “Perhaps Branaugh was just caught in the crossfire.”

Dumbledore looked from the Transfigurations professor to the dark colleague kneeling in front of him with an almost pleading look in his eye...as pleading as Albus Dumbledore ever looked, anyway. Severus knew that the Headmaster blamed himself for this...at least partly, in the same way that the man had felt responsible for all of Harry’s inevitable yearly battles with the forces of evil.

“Severus, you know the Death Eaters better than I do. Is it likely that a student was responsible for this?”

As much as Severus wanted to assuage the man’s guilt, he found he had to be honest with him.

“It is possible, sure, but highly improbable. The only Death Eater’s child at Hogwarts with enough clout--or enough brains, for that matter--to pull off a kidnapping is Draco Malfoy. But...” and here Severus leaned in, effectively cutting Minerva off from the conversation and preventing her from hearing his next comment “...I have never known a new recruit to be entrusted with such a task.”

Albus rubbed his eyes under his half-moon spectacles. “Quite true of course, Severus, but...”-and here Dumbledore stopped, looking suddenly much brighter-“Voldemort likes surprises, most especially when he is the one giving them.”

Severus had to concede to that. The Dark Lord did have an amazing talent for assigning tasks to obscure people that no one would ever suspect. Therefore, it would be dangerous to place blame without investigating first. Sighing, Severus rose to his feet. “However, we cannot forget the fact that no student has the power to kill an Auror, not even the Know-It-All.”

At that statement, Severus could feel the blasts of cold air coming from his Gryffindor colleague. He shrugged and ignored her.

Albus also rose, leveling a suddenly bright stare at his Potions Master. “Nor is any living person supposed to be able to get through those wards.”

Severus just stared at him. What was the man babbling about?

“I need you to do a full autopsy on him as soon as possible,” Dumbledore continued in a disturbingly clinical tone, gesturing at the body. “We need to know as much as possible about the circumstances surrounding his death if we are to...”

“I will get started immediately, Headmaster,” Severus intercepted. He did not need Dumbledore to finish his sentence. The younger man was well aware that they would never find Harry if they didn’t know how he managed to disappear...and that was not something he could afford to think about right then: not when fear was beginning to erode his mask of stubborn indifference.

“Thank you, Severus,” Dumbledore replied, holding Severus’s gaze for perhaps longer than necessary. He turned to McGonagall. “Minerva, will you please gather the staff and have them wait in my office?”

“Of course, Albus,” she replied, and walked off to do as she was told.

Severus, meanwhile, had begun casting invisibility and levitation charms on the body so that he could transport it easily to one of the labs in the dungeons. The house elves were fully capable of doing this, of course, but he wouldn’t entrust them with something this vital. After all, Severus had to be careful that the spells he cast would not interfere later with the autopsy. It took him several minutes of weaving spells and incantations, but finally Severus felt a tug on his wand and knew that the body was floating safely beside him. He turned and made for the door, but was stopped when an aged hand touched his arm.

“We will find him, child.”

Severus nodded and murmured, almost to himself, “You know, I walked over here half-expecting to see Harry...” and then stalked out with the body before his fear could become even more blatantly obvious.

Ten minutes later, Severus had arrived at Hogwarts’ most secure laboratory. He set the body down gently on an examination table and began to remove the charms surrounding it. He briefly contemplated taking a short shower before beginning the autopsy: it would be a long procedure, and Severus was in dire need of some form of refreshment. But Severus was never one for procrastination, and decided that the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could concentrate on trying to find Harry.

* * * * *

Lucius Malfoy plopped the body unceremoniously onto the cell floor. He removed the invisibility charms his son had applied and scowled deeply when Potter’s body re-appeared. Wretched little imp. People went through so much trouble for this brat. Frankly, Lucius didn’t see the point. It would be so easy--so satisfying--to just strangle the little bastard right now, with his own two hands. But that would upset the Dark Lord...and he was the reason that this boy was here in the first place. Of course, the Dark Lord wasn’t here at the moment, as he was out recruiting who-knows-what to add to his ranks. Lucius was secretly glad of this, because this left him with the opportunity to do whatever he wanted with Potter--except kill him. Oh, but the mental and physical torture he could inflict upon the boy would be enough. Potter deserved it, after all that had happened to Lucius’s family since Voldemort’s fall. Just the thought of how much power the Malfoy family could have had, were it not for Potter, was enough to make Lucius’s palms crawl. It was about time the brat paid for what he had done fourteen years ago...and Lucius would make sure he did.

* * * * *

Severus banged his head on the examination table. Normally, an action such as this one would send the Potions Master into cursing fits, but this time, Severus was doing it on purpose. He was almost able to convince himself that he did it to clear his head, but in reality, it was just another nasty habit. When he was frustrated, he banged on things. So when he was really frustrated, what better way was there to show it than to bang his head on a solid oak table?

Severus glared at the linen-covered body lying on a table across the room. He had been able to find nothing--nothing--that could have caused this man’s death. No trace of poison, no recent curse scars, no broken bones, no trace of illness...not even a stab wound or a bullet hole. By rights, this man should still be alive.

Severus flipped through his tablet of autopsy notes again, hoping to find whatever it was that he had missed. A single phrase came creeping back to him.

Albus had known something then. He had realized something about what had happened, and was trying to force Severus to realize it too. But was it even worth trying? It really was a long shot...

“Can’t hurt...” Severus muttered to himself. He scowled deeply, and with long, slow strides made his way over to the body. He tore two pieces of Spell-O-Tape off the roll on the utensil tray and used them to secure the man’s eyelids back. He had to do this: even the dead tended to clamp their eyes shut during this procedure. Finally, Severus raised his wand. Looking the corpse straight in the eyes, he began chanting “Spiritus Deprehensio, Spiritus Deprehensio...”

The body started trembling, then shaking. Severus could clearly see the swirling through the man’s eyes now. He had his answer.

And to his knowledge, it could only mean one thing.

Severus abruptly cut off the spell and released the man’s eyelids. After re-covering the body and warding the lab, he swept as fast as he could to the office of the Headmaster.

* * * * *

Severus squeezed his way up the stairs, past the other teachers and staff who were apparently descending from the meeting Albus had called, without so much as a “Pardon me.” In fact, Severus vaguely recalled accidentally shoving Hooch into the opposite wall, but didn’t see the importance of stopping to help her at that moment. He had more vital things to do.

“Albus?” he called from a few steps below the oak door. The Headmaster appeared in the doorframe, eyebrows raised in expectation.

“Please come in, Severus,” Dumbledore said before admitting the man and shutting the door behind him. The Potions Master lowered himself anxiously into one of the chairs before the Headmaster’s desk. He tried to appear calm, but found it too difficult at the moment to mask this particular emotion if his life did not depend upon it.

“Lemon drop?”

Severus barred his teeth.

“Ahem...Well, then. Down to business. What did you find?”

Severus launched into an explanation of what he had found...er, didn’t find...during the autopsy. Albus interrupted now and then to get a clearer description of various procedures, saying that he had never been good at this particular branch of magic. Finally, Severus got to the part of the autopsy that had made him so anxious.

“I performed Spiritus Deprehensio, Albus...”

The older man lifted his chin in expectation. He was familiar with this spell. “And?”

“And...” here Severus rose and began pacing the office. “And...under normal circumstances, it takes almost a month for the spirit to leave a body after death.” He stopped to glance at Albus, who nodded in agreement of the facts. Severus resumed pacing. “Spiritus Deprehensio will show how much soul is left with the body. But Branaugh had hardly any left in him. Had he died under normal circumstances, it would have taken at least three weeks for the spirit’s abandonment to progress this far.”

“But he hasn’t been dead for three weeks,” Albus stated, his eyes twinkling with something akin to realization.

“He’s only been dead for a matter of hours. And a soul cannot leave a living body on its own, not without being forced...”

Albus nodded. “I think I know what it is that you are going to suggest.”

Severus stopped pacing, and instead began tapping his wand against the chair back. “It sounds ludicrous, but I can only come up with one explanation...”

Albus waited, a knowing look forming on his face.

“Somehow, at some point within the last twenty-four hours, Michael Branaugh was possessed by another spirit.”

A/N: So there’s a taste of Scully!Severus for you. Read the author’s note chapter if you have not done so. Review!