The Rise of a Snape

The Disorder of the Order

At the same time in the world of magic:

Albus Dumbledore was worried.

Yes, he was worried about Voldemort and his death eaters.

Yes, he was worried about the falling Ministry of Magic.

Yes, he was worried about his spy, Severus Snape.

Yes, he was worried about impending war.

Yes, he was worried about the entire wizarding world.

But his primary worry- was one young boy by the name of Harry Potter. Lost in his thoughts, he recalled sorrowfully, his role in the war...he genuinely cared about each and every one of his students, and Harry Potter had gone through SO many trials in life for just a boy who was so loyal to his friends and a loving Gryffindor...he mourned his short-comings quietly...

"What shall I do, old friend," he said quietly to Fawkes, who was looking forlorn, "How shall I proceed?"

Fawkes didn't react, rather he preened and straightened his beautiful fiery feathers, before stretching his wings, sending sparks drifting through the air in a cloud of beauty.

Albus laughed. "I don't think that is the answer, old friend."

There was a sharp knock on the gold door-

"Come in," Albus sighed turning away from Fawkes. It had been a long day.

It was Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger- best and loyal friends to Mr. Harry Potter. They both looked like they had lost sleep and were rather nervous, if their darting eyes and bit lip were to judge.

"Please sit down," Albus said graciously, gesturing to the plush chairs in front of his desk before leaning forward and saying, eyes twinkling, "What is the purpose of this late visit?"

"Sir?" the tall and rather nervous looking Ronald Weasley that sat slouched before him, "Sir, we need to tell you some-"

"Hello, my dear Mr. Weasley," Albus said kindly (if not affectionately), "would you like a lemon drop?"

"What-"

"No thank you, sir," cut in Hermione Granger sharply, chewing her lip. She sat hands clasped tightly in her lap, brown hair flying into her face, "We're dreadfully sorry to disturb you so late, sir, but as duty calls-"

"What are your concerns, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley?" Albus put forth kindly to the young, brilliant witch, who looked increasingly nervous.

"Its Harry, Harry Potter, sir," Ron burst out (adding 'Potter' after Harry was rather unnecessary) before continuing awkwardly, "We've- er- been writing to him, you know, checking up on him and stuff with losing- losing Sirius and all,"

He said the last part rather quickly.

Albus nodded seriously, as Miss Granger carried on albeit anxiously, "We've been sending him a LOT of mail, you know, inquiring how he is, we've been ever so worried, and he hasn't been replying to any of us, in any form."

Albus raised his eyebrows, curiosity (and worry) piqued. "Really?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other worriedly-

Ron cleared his throat and continued, "Er- and Hedwig showed up this morning with nothing from her- she looks kind of under-fed. And Harry's relatives are bloody awful pains in the..." Hermione elbowed Ron in the stomach for him to shut up.

"-I meant not very nice, sir." he corrected himself, glaring at Hermione accusingly.

Albus frowned. "What do you mean, my boy?"

"They- er- don't like magic," started Ron uncomfortably, "I don't know the details, really."

Albus sat back heavily in his chair, surveying the two tense teenagers in front of him. He had a bad feeling about thing- maybe he was just being blind and Minerva was right about those Dursleys...

"A loss can take a terrible toll on someone. I shall send someone to check on him tomorrow," he said, pondering.

"We're just worried, sir." said quietly Hermione looking down, cheeks flushed, "I just- just- don't know..."

"You may ease your minds," soothed Albus.

"'Night, Professor." Ron muttered, while Hermione nodded thankfully to him before they disappeared down the hall.

He knew exactly who to put on the job-