The Changeling

Des·i·de·ri·um- a feeling of loss or grief for something lost

A/N: Dumbledore: *trying to find Harry*
Spring: *sunglasses on, reading the newspaper in plain sight* Cool story bro

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Hogwarts

Severus Snape thought of himself as a patient man.

Patient enough to watch the woman he thought of as a sister marry his childhood bully, patient enough to deal with his Lord going insane... but Albus Dumbledore seemed to always be able to push that patience of his.

The Daily Prophet had soon caught wind of the fire in Surrey being of magical origin and from there came the reason Severus Snape was so on edge.

The woman he loved like a little sister, her child - Lily's child- was almost certainly dead.

As much as he despised James Potter- hearing that young Harry was made to live with Lily's magic hating sister and her horrible husband still gave him chills, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if it was Harry himself that had started the fire... But either way, he was infuriated.

Incensed.

No child should ever go through that.

Leaning against the wall, he watched where the old coot was trying to placate Minerva, potion-stained fingers twitching as he tried not to hex the man employing him.

The floo lit up green, Amelia Bones walking out followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt and a troop of Aurors. "Albus Dumbledore, you are being subpoenaed and will come before the Wizengamot to testify in the case of Harry Potter's... disappearance." The Head of the DMLE looked to him and Minerva. "You two are welcome to join us if you wish, as you are already aware of this happenstance."

Severus clenched his hands and half considered breaking his vow and going to live in the woods to become a hermit- magic be damned- but only nodded stiffly. Minerva glanced at him and they both followed the group as Albus was escorted into the floo that was connected to the Ministry. He could tell by the Headmaster's clenched jaw that this was in no way part of his 'master plan' and that made him feel a bit better about the proceedings.

The Wizengamot was a large stone circle of lords in their intimidating (yet unfashionable) robes staring down at where a chair was placed.

Spotting Lucius in the crowd, Severus gave a sneer that could- if the person knew him well enough- be interpreted as mirthful.

The old coot walked calmly to the stone chair in the middle of the room, sitting as if this was just another school board meeting. "Good morning Cornelius. How are you doing today?"

The Minister of Magic narrowed his eyes down at the man, starting the meeting instead of answering. "We come together today to talk of the magical fire that was set the other day in the neighborhood of Little Whining, Surrey. It seems that there is more to this subject than meets the eye. Not only were twenty muggles killed and a squib badly injured, but it seems that the house at the epicenter of the flames has magical residue around it that can be directly tied to you, Albus Dumbledore... What do you have to say in your defense?"

This should be good.

Severus rather wished for a glass of firewhiskey at the moment.

"Cornelius, I do have an explanation for my magical signature, and that is that I can casted wards around that house less than ten years ago." The old man looked grave. "Wards that would protect one Harry James Potter."

The surrounding Lords and Ladies broke into chaos, Fudge having to yell and bang his gavel more than a few times to gain back control, and he would have smirked if he didn't feel as if his heart was shriveling up in his chest.