Investigations
Severus Snape stood silently while he watched Albus pace the confines of his office.
Back and forth Albus traveled, one hand stroking his beard while he used his wand-hand to occasionally pull a thought from his mind. It had been going on for hours, ever since Amelia and Kingsley left the castle. Albus was troubled, deeply troubled, and Severus would be a liar if he said that it did not trouble him as well.
Someone had killed the relatives of the Boy-Who-Lived. Not any someone, it had to be a skilled wizard with motive, information, and enough power to leave no trace of themself behind.
“But how…?” Albus paused to pull another thought from his head and to send it to his pensieve. “And why…?”
Severus stretched his neck, impatient with Albus’s vague musings and lack of conversation. If Severus wanted to watch someone pace, he would have stayed with Potter and Black. Potter had been pacing the Slytherin common room when Severus left him there, not a drop of grief to be seen.
Severus did not expect there to be any grief shown, not with what he had learned through the boy’s medical exam. The boy was as troubled as Albus though, which nearly cleared him off Severus’s personal list of suspects.
It would make a twisted sense of justice had the boy done it himself. Severus would hardly begrudge him the right, an eye for an eye was quite the Slytherin ideal. Potter had appeared genuinely mystified and shocked by the news once he received it though, Severus did not think it was feigned.
That left an infinite number of suspects.
Severus did not find it to be a coincidence that the Boy-Who-Lived had made a social appearance at a Yule Gala only for his relatives to be murdered days later. Severus’s top theory was that Potter had let his address slip in a conversation and someone had attempted to murder Potter. The boy had not been home and it was Potter’s relatives who were killed.
It was the current leading theory of Amelia as well. She would undoubtedly interrogate Potter the next day, then follow up with every person whom the boy spoke with during Yule.
Albus apparently had quite the different idea.
“The question is… where did Harry go during the holiday?” Albus mused quietly. He returned to his desk and dropped down in his chair. Fawkes flew to rest on Albus’s shoulder, nuzzling the old man with her head.
“Pardon?” Severus asked, uncertain how Albus deduced that to be the most pressing concern.
“The wards that protected the Dursley family from harm had to be broken before their death.” Albus stroked his beard still, staring off in the distance. “Harry left the castle for the holiday, but he must not have returned home. So, where was he?”
Severus knew where Potter had been - with Black. There was no question for him that Potter stayed wherever Black did. Severus had seen Potter at Lucius’s home on Yule, just before the scene with the elf. The boy had been by Black’s side, clinging to him as if they would be unable to breathe if parted.
It was on the tip of Severus’s tongue to suggest that, yet he hesitated. Albus was… quite interested in Black and Potter. Severus understood the fascination with Potter - the boy had been prophesied to defeat the Dark Lord. It was Potter who had killed Quirrell, whom Albus believed had been possessed by the remnants of the Dark Lord. Potter who had been attacked by the Dark Lord before and would be targeted upon any return he made.
Albus’s belief that Black was center stage in the story between Potter and the Dark Lord was what caused Severus a moment of pause.
Black was his father twice over, arrogant and hateful. Severus longed to see the boy expelled, justice for the expulsion that Black had deserved. It was one thing to despise the boy, another to mention him in the midst of a murder investigation.
“Perhaps he stayed with a friend?” Severus suggested, leaving Black’s name from his suggestion, though Potter only had one friend of note.
“The wards are complex, ancient,” Albus said. “If Harry considered his aunt’s home to be his own, if he pictured their house when ‘home’ was brought up, then none who meant harm should have been able to pass the lines I once drew. They held up for ten years, Severus, why would they fail now?”
“The boy stopped considering their house his home,” Severus said, understanding the implication clearly. Severus privately wondered if the boy had ever considered that house his home. With the injuries he sustained, the lingering remnants of abuse and neglect his exam revealed, had the Dursley family signed their own fates by their indifference to Potter’s existence?
“Which again makes me wonder where Harry spent his holiday,” Albus said. “I believe that we can assume he spent it with young Mister Black.”
Severus hid a grimace and tilted his head in silent assent. That would be an accurate estimation.
“And you said that they attended a Yule Gala together?” Albus asked. “One hosted by Lucius Malfoy?”
“They did,” Severus admitted stiffly. “I saw no chaperone with them.”
“Sirius Black lives in an orphanage,” Albus said. His eyes were looking away again - to the past or future, Severus did not know. “That is what he told me.”
Severus did not scoff, though he considered it. An orphanage? Black dressed as if he had been raised by Lucius Malfoy himself. It was unlikely that the boy spent years in one of the filthy orphanages in London only to turn around and arrive at Hogwarts with twice the arrogance of his own father.
It was not impossible, certainly improbable.
“This is disturbing, certainly,” Albus said. “The boys trouble me… this entire situation troubles me. You will accompany Harry tomorrow? I need you to collect what information you can, Severus. Try and divulge where Harry spent his holiday. Perhaps that will be the key to understanding these deaths.”
Because what Severus - and the boy - desired was to spend an abundance of time with one another. Even if the boy was not openly grieving, Severus very much doubted that he was who Potter preferred to watch over him while the Department of Magical Law Enforcement interrogated him.
What Potter would prefer would be Lupin, Severus’s position as his Head of House be damned. Thus, when Albus dismissed Severus, it was directly to Lupin’s office where he traveled.
Lupin’s office allowed Severus entry as he approached. It was a show of goodwill on Lupin’s part - sentimental and ill-received. Severus would certainly not add Lupin to his nonexistent list of authorized individuals for his office.
Severus strode in the office, scoffing when he saw Lupin with his head bowed and his fingers buried in his hair.
“You are grieving more than the boy,” Severus sneered, gracefully pulling a chair out to sit across from Lupin. It took but one wave of his wand to summon a drink and two glasses from where they had been stored in a trick globe on Lupin’s bookshelf.
“I’m not grieving,” Lupin said. He accepted the drink when Severus poured him one and then took a minute sip of it. “I’m shocked, what if Harry had been home, Severus? He’d be dead.”
“Clearly he was not home,” Severus pointed out. He took a long drink of his glass and posed his next question evenly. “Would he tell you where he stayed during break? If you asked him.”
“Probably not.” Lupin snorted and the first signs of amusement began to light in his eyes. “I know you think Harry and I are so close, but I think he hates me. You should have seen him at breakfast. When I said his name you’d think I had ruined his entire day.”
Severus could have pointed out to Lupin that his continuing choice to associate with Severus was likely the cause of Potter’s disdain. Potter had wished death upon Severus to Severus’s face, for many reasons which were all well-deserved. Anyone who so much as spoke to Severus was likely to receive similar treatment.
To say so would mean that Lupin would begin to decide between Potter’s spawn or his continued association with Severus. While Severus knew Lupin only asked for his company because Severus was the only adult within the castle near his age, it was not always unpleasant.
“Potter is a child, you have probably offended him in some way,” Severus said uncaringly. “I am certain the two of you will return to your cozy little chats before the end of the year.”
“‘Cozy little chats’?” Lupin repeated questioningly. “Severus, I’ve never had a genuine conversation with Harry. I broke up a fight between him and Black once and then Harry barely talked to me on Halloween. That’s it.”
Severus paused and considered that to himself, maintaining a bland expression of near boredom. Why would Lupin continue to lie about such a trivial matter? If it had not been Lupin who told Potter about the prophecy and Severus’s friendship with Lily, then who?
Potter had mentioned a diary of Lily’s, Severus assumed that it had been a lie to cover for Lupin at the time. Severus had never known Lily to have the patience for a diary, had that changed after their fifth year?
“Potter has a bizarre amount of knowledge of the past,” Severus said slowly. “Where would he have obtained it from?”
“Diaries, old letters,” Lupin offered. He waved a hand and sighed deeply. “I don’t know, Severus. We weren’t the only ones in the school who are still around.”
Who else would the boy know? It was infuriating.
Black claimed to be raised in an orphanage. Potter had been raised by muggles. They managed to meet and built a tight-knit rapport before September, were there others that Potter met?
Possibly one who killed the boy’s relatives?
“You should accompany Potter tomorrow, question him about his holiday,” Severus said. “If he and Black did not stay in Black’s muggle home,” if Black resided in such a place, “it may resolve the question of who killed the relatives.”
“Harry won’t tell me anything,” Lupin said. He paused to take a more emboldening drink of the cheap bourbon they shared. “I think Black might like me more than Harry, though I can’t imagine why.”
“Genetics,” Severus suggested sardonically.
Lupin laughed, even though he looked pained. It was one of Lupin’s social niceties, laughing at the things that Severus tried to mock him with. It gave Severus only a mild moment of pleasure when it occurred, there had once been a time when Severus would have done nearly anything for Remus Lupin to laugh at something he said.
That moment had died nearly fifteen years ago.
Severus was under no illusion that Lupin enjoyed sharing words or conversation with him. Severus would never have been Lupin’s first choice, he would always be the last choice.
Behind Potter, Black, Pettigrew, Lily, Meadows, McKinnon, Regulus, Barty, Rosier, Trueblood, and both Longbottoms.
The overwhelming charm that Severus held, his most appealing draw for Remus Lupin, was only that he had not died in a war. That was it.
Though, the only reason that Severus did not spurn Lupin’s request for a drink and conversation, was Charity.
If Lupin were truly desperate, he could seek out Charity for conversation. Charity had never been a target of Lupin’s gang of marauders and Charity had never invented curses specifically to attack Lupin and his friends with. Charity might not brew Lupin’s monthly potion, yet surely she would fall above Severus if Lupin were starved for companionship.
“Did Albus ask you to go with Harry tomorrow?” Lupin guessed accurately. He twisted his mouth in a displeased gesture at Severus’s short nod. “Harry seems to like Minerva. Even if he isn’t sad, exactly, wouldn’t it be better for him to have more support?”
Severus swirled his glass and chose his words with extreme care. It would do no good to question Albus’s motives aloud, every wall in Hogwarts had ears of its own and most of those ears were loyal to Albus. However, Severus found himself mildly curious where Lupin’s opinion would lie.
“I believe that Albus is currently more concerned with finding answers than he is providing comfort,” Severus said nonchalantly. He raised his glass to his lips and murmured his next words. “Was that not why Potter went to Petunia Evans in the first place?”
Lupin froze, Severus could see it from the corner of his eye. Severus waited, allowing Lupin to consider the implications of his question. It had been hiding in the recesses of Severus’s mind for months, since the day Severus saw Potter’s medical examination.
Why had Albus decided that Petunia was best served as Potter’s closest relative? According to reports from Minerva, Hagrid had to take Potter from Sirius Black’s arms.
Another aspect of the past that did not line up and began gnawing at Severus.
Black named his spawn after Potter, a year before he sent Potter to his death? Black had beaten Hagrid to the scene of the murders and then relinquished the infant to safety?
There were many inconsistencies in every aspect of Potter’s history and Severus longed to know why.
“Who else would Albus have chosen?” Lupin asked Severus, his eyes flickering around in uneasiness. “Me?”
“Not if he required a blood relative for the boy’s protection,” Severus said. “Were Longbottom and Potter not related? I had been under the impression that Frank’s mother and Potter’s mother were cousins.”
“Frank was attacked,” Lupin said.
“A month after the murders.”
“They were meant to be in hiding as well though,” Lupin said, grasping on straws.
“Mm.” Severus hummed and finished off his glass. “The Bones and Potter families were related as well, were they not?”
Lupin floundered, as any man would do when caused to question the choices of a man they had followed, had fought for, had possibly killed for. Severus had not been disillusioned any when he began questioning Albus’s motives and decisions, for Severus knew that the differences between Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were minimal.
They were two leaders on opposite sides of a war. That was all. Albus still planned on a war and had never stepped down from his role as war commander.
“Albus can’t see the future, he couldn’t have known that Lily’s sister would mistreat Harry,” Lupin insisted. “He wouldn’t have left him there if he’d known.”
Would he not?
Severus had considerable time and the emotional distance to consider the situation carefully. If Albus had wanted a boy-hero who would see Hogwarts as his home and the benevolent Headmaster as his own hero… it had been a gamble, it could have gone wrong…
Albus had no fear of large risks. The larger the risk, the greater he would see his reward.
Harry Potter had not arrived at Hogwarts as the golden boy that Albus would have desired. Potter was a Slytherin, he attended Yule Galas and Samhain rituals. Potter was spoken about in pureblooded circles as Heir Potter. Potter’s closest friend was a Black.
The great risk that Albus may have taken had failed spectacularly. Severus had no doubt that Albus would try and convert the boy, test his ultimate loyalty. In what form that would take, Severus could hardly imagine. When driven to it, Albus had no end to his creativity.
Severus rose the next morning and took his time to prepare himself for the daunting task he had been assigned. It was not unreasonable for Severus, as Potter’s Head of House, to be the one given the task.
Severus was certain that Potter was as pleased with Severus’s accompaniment as Severus was.
The Slytherin common room was full of silent and respectfully grave students when Severus entered it. Severus’s students were hardly the most rambunctious of the castle, they were children as any other. It was still an eerie mark of respect to see them all following traditional silences of mourning in Potter’s honor.
Severus nearly smiled. Severus would love to be the one to tell Petunia Evans that there were fifty witches and wizards who were mourning her death. It would turn the woman’s hair grey, causing her spirit to never rest.
Potter rose when Severus entered the room. The boy was dressed neatly, there were no signs of grief shadowing his face nor his body language. Black rose when Potter did, also dressed casually and much less neatly than Potter.
“Potter, come,” Severus said curtly. “Black, I believe you have class today.”
“You believe wrong,” Black sneered. The child sneered at Severus. “I’m going with Harry.”
“You are not,” Severus said, taking great pleasure in refusing the brat anything. “You will remain here and attend class. Potter does not need his hand held.”
Black seemed prepared to dig his heels in and waste Severus’s entire day debating the issue. It was Potter who ended the argument before it could truly begin.
“It’s fine, Siri,” Potter murmured. He touched Black’s back and Severus was too easily reminded of their fathers.
“You’re not going with just him,” Black said, disrespectful as ever.
“In a room full of aurors, I think I’ll be fine,” Potter said.
Severus cleared his throat pointedly and focused his ire on Black.
“Potter will be back before lunch,” he said coolly. “I am certain that you can survive four hours without your sidekick.”
“That shows what you know,” Black said without missing a beat. “I’m the sidekick. And sidekicks never last long without their masters, do they, Snape?”
Severus was not being challenged by an eleven year old in front of his entire house. He was not.
"Your flair for dramatics does you no favors, Black," Snape said, his voice sharp and cutting. He turned his attention to Potter, who stood beside Black, his green eyes filled with a defiance that reminded Severus all too well of Lily Evans. "Potter, we must leave immediately."
Potter lifted his chin and watched Severus as he addressed Black. "I said I'll be fine, Sirius. It won't take long."
Severus watched Black, who was glaring at him as if he were the enemy. His level of insolence was unacceptable, especially from a child. "Black, I assure you, Potter will be under my watchful eye. Your presence is neither required nor desired."
"Don't think for a moment that I trust you, Snape," Black snapped, his voice low and dangerous in a way that a child should not be. "Harry shouldn't be going anywhere with you."
Severus clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to lash out. He could feel the eyes of his Slytherins on him, and the last thing he needed was to show any sign of weakness.
"Your trust is irrelevant,” Severus said, glaring down at Black from his nose. “The Ministry requires Potter's presence, and I am his escort. Your objections are noted and dismissed."
Potter took a step forward, pausing to place a hand on Black’s arm. "It's fine, Sirius. I'll be back soon,” he said quietly. “Just wait here."
For a brief moment, a flicker of something similar to understanding passed between them, though it was layered with tension that even Severus could sense. Black’s stubborn and protective stance softened just enough to allow Potter to step away.
Severus immediately turned on his heel, his robes billowing behind him as he led Potter out of the common room. The moment they were out of earshot, he spoke without looking back.
"You have a remarkable talent for attracting trouble, Potter."
Potter’s silence was unsettling, and Severus cast a quick glance over his shoulder. The boy's expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed past Severus. Severus did not trust the sudden compliance, though he had more pressing matters to consider.
Harry Potter was many things - a thorn in Severus’s side, a reminder of past feuds and disappointments, a reminder of every misdeed Severus committed - but he was also a child caught in a web of events beyond his understanding.
"Remember, Potter," Severus said quietly as they stepped out into the cool morning air of the front lawn, "speak only when spoken to, your answers should be direct. The Ministry will not show you any grace if you provoke them."
Potter nodded curtly, the only sign that he heard Severus. When they reached the end of the lawn and Severus extended an arm for Potter to grasp, Potter spoke to him.
“Do you know who did it?” Potter asked, meeting Severus’s eyes and seeming entirely serious.
Severus was stunned by the audacity of the child. Did Severus know who killed his relatives?
“I do not,” Severus said, the truth. “Do you?”
“No.” Potter grasped Severus’s arm. “It was worth asking, since you were why my parents died.”
Severus could not fault the boy for the use of logic.
Certainly a trait he inherited from his mother.
Severus apparated them directly in Amelia Bones’s office, as instructed the day before. The murder of Potter’s family had not yet reached the papers and the DMLE hoped to clear the matter before it became a spectacle and sign of old times returning.
Amelia was not present when they arrived and Severus pointed Potter to one of the chairs that surrounded a round table. Severus chose to lean against the wall, a view where he could see every chair, entrance, and Potter was centered in his sight.
Potter folded his hands on the table and studied them intently. Severus watched the boy, curious if he had any theories. Any other child and Severus would not bother asking, but Potter seemed much older than his age. It was unsettling.
“Why do you believe your relatives were killed?” Severus asked quietly, tampering on his natural instincts to bark at the boy.
“That’s a really great question,” Potter said, too pleasantly. He continued to study his nails as he verbally tore Severus to shreds.
“See, the way I think it happened: You overheard a prophecy and wanted to be important. I think it’s because you’re not really a pureblood, right? So you ran with it to your master. Then he asked around and found out who was pregnant and expecting at the end of July. He decided that I must be the kid in the prophecy and he wanted to kill my parents. Now, this is where it gets interesting, because somehow you wound up teaching at Hogwarts when we both know what’s burned on your left arm, don’t we?
“So, professor,” Potter drawled the honorific with all of his blatant disdain, “that is why I believe my relatives were killed. If you mean my aunt, uncle, and cousin, I have no idea.”
Merlin, the child was an endless well of bitterness and hate. It was the first thing that Severus found he had in common with the boy.
The second, he corrected himself mentally.
“I see.” Severus crossed his arms and remained impassive. He weighed his options, the possible repercussions, then threw a mild amount of caution in the wind.
What was one admission compared to all that Potter already knew?
“I was given my position at Hogwarts through a second chance from Albus,” Severus said.
“A second chance…” Potter repeated. He tapped his laced hands on the table twice, refusing to so much as look at Severus. “I wouldn’t have given you one.”
And that was the third thing that Severus had in common with the boy.
Potter sat with a nearly unnatural stillness while they waited. He did not fidget, he did not look around the comfortable office. It was quiet while they waited for Amelia, only the crackle of the fire breaking the silence.
When Amelia arrived, she burst through her office door in a flurry of busyness. There was a harried expression on her face, worried lines across her forehead. Amelia spared Severus a brief nod before she pulled a chair out at the table where Potter sat.
“Harry, hello again,” she began, her voice steady but not unkind. “How are you?”
“Fine, ma’am,” Potter said evenly.
Clearly not distraught over the murders.
“I know this is a difficult time for you, I’ll try and be brief so you can get back to your friends.” Amelia pulled a parchment and quill from her robe pocket and smoothed it on the table. “I’ll need to record your answers, for the record. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Your relatives were killed on the 26th of December, can you tell me where you were that evening?”
Potter did not pause, yet Severus sensed he was considering his response carefully.
“I was with a friend,” Potter said.
“And who is your friend?” Amelia pressed, her quill posed to record his response. She smiled gently, friendly and polite as could be. “I’m going to guess his last name rhymes with ‘hack’, would I be close?”
Potter tensed, obviously unhappy with Amelia’s assessment.
“We went to the movies,” Potter said. “In London.”
Severus was sure that was a lie. Potter was too prepared to answer and did not elaborate at all. Wherever the boys had been, Severus would wager it did not include a cinema.
“The movies in London with Sirius, noted,” Amelia said encouragingly. “Did you stay with Sirius the entire break or did you return home at any point?”
“I stayed with Sirius,” Potter said, glancing uneasily at Severus. Severus remained dispassionate, feigning complete disinterest in the interview.
“At his home?” Amelia asked.
“A hotel,” Potter said quickly. “We were in a hotel during break. I didn’t want to go home and Sirius doesn’t have one.”
Another lie.
Amelia's eyebrows raised slightly, likely hearing the same untruth that Severus did, but she maintained her composed expression.
"I see. And you attended the Yule Gala at Malfoy Manor the day before the incident?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied, his voice steady once more.
Severus felt a pang of unease. He knew the Malfoys's reputation well and could imagine the implications of Potter’s association with them. It was neither the time nor place to address that though, there had been plenty of ill-viewed witches and wizards at the Gala.
Severus himself had been there, after all.
"Can you tell me what happened at the Gala?" Amelia asked, her eyes sharp, watching Potter intently. “Who did you talk to? Did anyone seem to take an interest in you?”
“The only person I talked to was Minister Fudge, Sirius, and an old wizard,” Potter said. “Everyone seemed interested in me, I made Sirius leave early because of it.”
“Pause, please,” Amelia said. “An old wizard? What was his name?”
“I don’t know,” Potter said, seemingly truthful. “I was uncomfortable so I went outside and we talked for a bit. Sirius found me, I told him I wanted to leave, so we did.”
Amelia turned in her seat to raise an eyebrow at Severus.
“Severus? Any ideas who this old wizard may have been?”
“Was he a large man? Bald with a large mustache?” Severus asked, thinking of Horace Slughorn.
“No, he was tall, thin, grey hair,” Potter said, looking at Amelia.
“Was he wearing really nice robes?” Amelia asked. She winked in a playful manner. “Seemed a bit stuck up?”
“If you mean Crouch, it wasn’t him either,” Potter said astutely. “I don’t think he went inside at all, ma’am. He was outside when I went outside and left before I did.”
“I see.” Amelia began writing the brief description Potter gave her. “What did you and this wizard discuss, Harry?”
“We talked about Yule,” Potter told her. “He said he thought the gala was stupid, I agreed. He talked about old galas, better times. That was pretty much it.”
That certainly shortened the list of wizards. There were not many who would openly criticize the Malfoy family and slaughter Potter’s family.
“If I found a picture, would you recognize him?” Amelia asked.
“I’m sure I would, but I don’t think he killed my relatives. He didn’t even ask my name.”
Amelia smiled widely and Severus stifled a snort.
“Harry, dear, I think most people don’t need to ask your name,” Amelia said warmly.
“He didn’t seem like he knew me at all,” Potter insisted. “I wouldn’t have stood outside with some bloke staring at my forehead.”
“Okay, okay,” Amelia said placatingly. “So you don’t know the man and you didn’t talk to anyone else? You didn’t have any bad feelings about anyone? Nothing is too minor to mention and I promise we aren’t going to suspect everyone who made you uneasy.”
“Ma’am,” Potter was the one to adopt a condescending tone and sarcastic smile, “I’m Harry Potter. Almost everyone at that party was a death eater. I had a bad feeling about everyone.”
Amelia chuckled while Severus tilted his head toward the floor to keep from having his near smile be seen. It was astute of the boy, further proof that Potter was more socially aware than the average first year.
“Why did you go then?” Amelia asked. “It sounds like you were aware of some histories before arriving?”
Severus knew before Potter said why: Black. Black was Narcissa Malfoy’s cousin, Draco would have invited him. Black was arrogant and powerful enough that he would want an audience to show off. He must have been disappointed to leave early, unable to rub elbows with other families as darkly inclined as he and his father were.
Severus himself had only made a brief appearance to appease Lucius. Yule Galas were dreadfully dull, that one had only been mildly interesting given Lucius’s elf being fired and Lupin’s accompaniment of Severus causing a stir amongst the old crowd.
Lupin said that seeing Lucius so fully humiliated had been the greatest Christmas present he could ask for, though he had been sympathetic toward the elf. Severus had only been amused as Lucius spent the remainder of the evening trying desperately to save face.
Potter had been a popular topic, yet Severus could not recall any specific overt interest in the boy. Yaxley had asked Severus about him, asking what type of student the boy was, nothing more than that.
“I was invited, I said I’d go, so I went,” Potter said shortly. “There’s only so many death eaters I’m willing to be around in a day though and I think my quota is full with Snape most days.”
Severus felt a surge of anger, his dark eyes narrowing at the absolute insolence. The room seemed to grow colder as he straightened, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.
"Mind your tongue, Potter," Severus said, his tone dangerously quiet. Most students would quell from his tone, Potter only blinked at him from behind his glasses. "This is neither the time nor the place for your provocations,” Severus warned him.
Amelia's gaze shifted from Severus to Potter, her expression unreadable.
"Mr. Potter," she said calmly, steering the conversation back. "Let's focus on the matter at hand."
Potter’s face remained impassive, but his eyes flickered with a spark of defiance before he focused on Amelia. "Of course, ma’am."
Severus took a deep breath, reigning in his temper. He knew he had to maintain his composure, especially in front of the Head of the DMLE. The last thing Severus needed was to give Potter more ammunition to use against him in a recorded interview surrounding a murder case.
It was not a secret that Severus had the Dark Lord’s brand on his arm, there had been a public trial. Albus had vouched for Severus, saying that he was a spy. There were many who almost correctly believed that Severus had turned spy to save his own hide, others who bought Albus’s half-truth without question.
It kept Severus from Azkaban, a magnificent feat that he would lose if Potter did not hold his tongue.
“Can you think of anything else that might be relevant?” Amelia pressed Potter. “The smallest of details could really help, Harry.”
“I honestly have no idea who would do this,” Potter said, too earnest to be a lie. “If I knew, I’d be happy to see them pay for it. Dudley was a child, just eleven.”
As Potter himself was, allegedly. The boy was wise - and witty, Severus could admit if only to himself - beyond his years. As childish as Potter could be, he was too mature, too knowledgeable.
There was something disquieting about the boy. Considering the darkness that surrounded his past, the murders that were clouding his present, and the ever growing belief amongst the Slytherin students that Potter could see the future… it was something fundamentally wrong about Potter.
And Severus was determined to discover precisely what that was.
Severus was summoned to Albus’s office not ten minutes within returning Potter to Hogwarts. Severus had barely spotted Lupin waiting outside his office door before one of the portraits informed him that the Headmaster wished to see him.
“I’ll talk to you when you get back?” Lupin asked after Severus turned and began stalking back toward the staircase.
“Only if you have better liquor than last night,” Severus said, knowing that Lupin would hear him. Whether he would take the time to upgrade the liquor was questionable, but Severus suspected that Lupin knew Severus would provide his own liquor if it came to it.
Severus cleared the brief interaction from his mind, focusing on his report to Albus. It would be sparse on detail, there was not much to share.
Potter had no idea who would kill his relatives, Amelia had no current leads. Potter claimed to have stayed in a hotel in London during the holiday, it was likely a lie, though Severus wavered on if he would share that detail or not. The only true note of interest that Severus would certainly share was Amelia’s promise to Potter that she would keep him informed of the Ministry’s decision on where he would reside.
And it would be the Ministry who decided. The time of Albus taking an orphaned infant in the final days of a war and hiding him away were gone, Amelia was clear on that point.
Severus was brief in his report, though seeming to spare no detail. Severus sneered about Potter’s disdain for his own safety when he spent the night with a childhood friend in Surrey. Albus had grown to trust Severus, he accepted the story as truth.
“Ah, nostalgia for his old friend may have saved his life,” Albus said, a gentle rebuke for Severus’s forced vitrial. “This is troubling, Severus, quite troubling. I reached out to a few families from the Order, one of them should be able to take young Harry in.”
“Albus, you may have trouble on that front,” Severus warned him. “Amelia told Potter that she would put a worker from the Wizarding Welfare Department in touch with him. The Minister himself is taking an interest in where Potter goes next.”
“They would be,” Albus mused, his expression momentarily darkening. It was rare for Albus Dumbledore to be defied, even in a small way. “Cornelius would want to be seen ensuring Harry’s wellbeing after the death of his relatives. It is troubling… quite troubling…”
Severus’s patience was worn from the day and there was possibly a sympathetic ear and decent liquor waiting for him once he finished recounting the day. Severus had no desire to stay and watch Albus conspire theory after theory, hundreds of them while he shared only a few.
“Keep an ear to the ground,” Albus told Severus. “Listen for any whispers of new, any tendrils of gossip. I believe that, for now, it may be best if we keep our investigation to ourselves, Severus.”
Our investigation. Ourselves.
Severus dipped his head submissively while he seethed on the inside. Albus would have Severus look into the crowd who had seen Potter the day before, then he would claim to have known who the killer was the entire time.
That was how Albus operated - behind his desk and from the throne that he used his pawns to build for him.
Severus would question his old friends, the old crowd. Severus would do precisely that, and he would start with finding Potter’s mysterious old wizard. Severus’s reasons for doing so would be his own…
If anyone had been attempting to kill the boy, Severus needed to ensure that they never again had the opportunity.