l. promises made

                                    

                                          
Severus knew something was wrong before the pain even began.
                          
He put no credence in Divination; he thought it a vacuous discipline perpetrated by charlatans and conmen, by morons like Sybil Trelawney who sucked down too many hallucinogenics and made a living screwing up everyone else's lives. Prophecies weren't anything until madmen decided they were; the centaurs claimed the fate of the world was written in the stars, but that was shite, too. There was no greater destiny, no fate. Decisions and the lack thereof drove the universe, the chaos of freewill being far more terrifying than anything Trelawney could summon in her crystal ball. Even so, for all his disdain of Divination and its practitioners, a chilling portent of doom settled in Severus far before Minerva called for the students to return to their dormitories. It didn't surprise him.
                          
What now? He snarled in his thoughts, flicking his wand to Vanish the contents of his students' cauldrons. "Pack your things," he told the group of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first-years. "Quickly."
                          
They moved to comply, muttering and whispering among one another, wondering what was going on. For a moment, Severus' eyes snapped to the empty seat in the middle of the room where Lovegood usually sat, and again that inexplicable sensation of being wrong-footed came over him. Sneering, he flexed his right hand to ease the stiffness in his fingers and rubbed his knuckles.
                          
He swept from the lower dungeons with the nattering students behind him trailing like nervous, irritating ducklings. Severus saw the Hufflepuffs off first, their common room not terribly far from the potions class, then embarked for Ravenclaw Tower, chiding the first-years to keep up. Flitwick waited outside the Tower's door, and he checked off names from a scroll of parchment as the children passed him one-by-one into the common room before.
                          
Severus crossed his arms. "Miss Lovegood neglected to attend class," Severus informed the shorter wizard. "Miss Wilde stated Lovegood told her she wasn't feeling well and would be reporting to the hospital wing."
                          
Filius waited for the last student to enter the Tower, then tapped his wand against the enchanted knocker, flaring the castle's wards. Severus felt them shift like he felt the cool, prickling numbness in his fingertips. "Miss Lovegood has gone missing, Severus," Flitwick said, expression grim. "We believe there's been another attack. There's writing on the wall in the sixth-floor corridor, and the perpetrator claims to have taken the poor girl. Minerva is meeting with her father, Xenophilius, in Albus' office as we speak."
                          
Severus didn't envy McGonagall having to comfort the distraught man; he knew Lovegood by reputation, which painted him as a wizard one step above Trelawney in lucidity. Again, that prodding sense of doom had the audacity to knee him in the gut and Severus stirred, restless. "Fine. I need to count the Slytherins," he said, leaving without further comment. He didn't bother to mention Professor Slytherin's absence, given Severus would have been forced to act as Head of House with or without the wizard's presence. He held no illusions for his role; he acted as Slytherin's servant, putting in the bloody legwork so the bastard could go right on being a conniving monster. He took the stairs at a quick pace, robes billowing, and arrived back in the dungeons in record time.
                          
The Slytherin common room remained at its usual demure decibel despite the students gathered with their heads bent in whispered speculation. That soft murmuring cut off as soon as Severus stepped through the entrance, all attention swiveling to the approaching Potions Master. "Prefects Derrick and Muldoon," he said. "Gather anyone in their rooms and bring them here."
                          
The respective boy and girl broke off from the group and disappeared through the opposing corridors, inciting a slow dribble of latecomers until the pair returned and informed him that the dorms were empty. Severus counted heads, rattling down the Slytherin roster in his head—only to come to a screeching halt when he missed the whole second-year of the House.