InsaneJournal

So, you followed your master’s scent here? Rope asked.

Not really, I followed my master’s thoughts, the fat snake—Reginald—answered, slithering down the path with some difficulty, hampered by his great weight.

Having been a familiar to a wealthy boy all his life, Reginald wasn’t used to the fatigue of long journeys. Rather, it was used to lazing in the sun, eating the fattest rats. Until one day his little master failed to bring elevenses to him. Even during the thick of the war, his master never failed to feed him!

But I lost the scent of his thought somewhere around here. It seemed that he just disappeared into thin air! Reginald lamented. He’s tired, hungry, and missing his master terribly.

“You can smell your master’s thought?” Remus asked incredulously. "Read them?" He never really understood the bonds between master and familiar.

Not the way Legilimenses or mindreaderers can, Reginald replied. I love my master very much. Have you never had any familiars? Surely…

Oh please. He’s a wolf! Rope interjected, rather condescendingly. His familiar is himself.

Remus opened the door to the house, ignoring pitying looks being sent his way.

Inside the house Kingsley, Minerva, Filius, and a couple of Aurors were already waiting. They ushered him into the sitting room.

“You’ve attracted many snakes to your side, it seems,” Kingsley observed, amused.

“You said Reginald could communicate with his master?” Minerva asked.

“Only to an extent. He could pick traces of his master’s soul scent, or some such,” Remus said, shrugging. Honestly, he didn’t have a clue what Reginald meant.

“But Reginald lost contact with his master?” an Auror asked.

“Round about here, yes,” Remus replied. “It’s as if there’s a shroud being pulled between him and his master.”

“So now we have two missing children?” It was Remus’s turn to ask.

“Not just the two,” Kingsley answered. “Many children have gone missing since Riddle’s death. Mostly orphans, that’s why it took a long time for us to understand the gravity of this situation.”

“Severus could be one of the victims,” Minerva said.

Remus looked at Minerva, gesturing at Kingsley and the Aurors, “So they… know…”

“Relax,” one of the Aurors raised his hand placatingly “We’re on your side.”

“And I’m working to clear Severus’s name,” Kingsley added. “Only it’s not so easy with all the enemies he’s made.”

They talked—or at least tried to talk—strategy. They finally decided that Remus should follow the trail, and the others will stay behind and search for clues in the house. Two-way mirrors were exchanged and calibrated, goodbyes and goodlucks were delivered with much hope.

Remus bent down to pick Reginald, toasty-warm from the sun.

As he stepped out of the room, broom in hand, eager to escape to fresher air, something wrapped itself around his ankle. He looked down. As did Reginald and the other occupants in the room.

Aren't you forgetting something?

“No.”

But... I... You...

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(previous parts here)