Severus sat up stiffly from his position on the ground. His back was absolutely killing him due to the hard land they were sleeping on. He glanced at the muggle watch resting on Harry’s wrist, and realized it was only 3:45 in the morning.

“Great, I’m wide awake at this ungodly hour.” Severus muttered to himself. This always seemed to happen to him. The one day he had decided to sleep in, he couldn’t accomplish the task. Deciding to risk putting a softening charm on his blankets, he did so and quietly put one on Harry’s as well. “The kid might as well be comfortable.” he said, shrugging his shoulders. The only reason he didn’t use magic more often was due to the fact that it could be traced. The last thing he wanted was someone locating their position and honing in on them. He knew there were people at the ministry under Voldemort’s control, the damn bastard. After this mission was accomplished, he’d never be able to spy on the nasty ugly man again. Not that this bothered him, not at all.

He was just about to lie back down on his much more comfortable bedding when he noticed Harry’s head tossing back and forth, as if in a dream. Or more likely a nightmare. Severus quickly made his way over to the boy and gently touched his shoulder to wake him. Bad idea. Harry immediately knocked the hand away, misinterpreting it as a threat in his dream world. The next thing Severus knew Harry’s hand came up in a fist and slammed hard into his cheek. Stumbling backwards, he was unable to control his slight anger and extreme annoyance at getting hit, and held Harry’s arms above his head without further thought.

“Harry, wake up!” he yelled, and was shocked to see the boy’s eyes shoot open as quickly as they did. He was equally surprised when a mixture of fear and pain shot through his eyes.

“Let…go.” he gasped, tears coming to his eyes. Severus quickly let go of Harry’s arms and sat back, mainly to give the boy some space.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, guilt showing clearly in his eyes. He watched as Harry sat up, obviously in pain, and couldn’t help but feel he had caused it. He didn’t think he had hurt him, but maybe he had.

Harry gradually got into a sitting position and then looked to the older man sitting beside him. Seeing the guilt radiating out of his Professor he jumped to explain. “No, no it wasn’t your fault.” he said quickly, wiping the tears off his face. “It’s just my…um…back.” he ended lamely. He knew as soon as the words had left his mouth he would have to explain, and he didn’t want his teacher to see all his bruises.

“What’s wrong with your back?” asked Severus, drawing closer once more. “Let me see.”

“It’s not that bad, really.” he said, trying to throw Snape off. He hadn’t noticed that a bruise had formed until hours after Jeb had attacked him in the woods. He realized that the bruise was from Jeb shoving him against a tree. He remembered quite vividly how much that had hurt, but he hadn’t thought it would even bruise at the time. He should have realized it would, as he had only recovered from the bruise his uncle had left after slamming him against the car less than a week ago. He lowered his head as Snape raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

“Show me your back.” he demanded, not taking no for an answer.

Harry sighed. This sucked. “Why? I told you it’s nothing.” he tried, determined to get out of showing Snape. It wasn’t his damn business anyways.

Snape’s patience was growing thin. The earlier encounter with Jeb had left a few marks of its own. Although not nearly as many as were on the bastard still tied to a tree. He was tired, sore and clearly agitated. “Just show me your damn back, Potter!” he snarled. And immediately regretted it, as he seemed to do a lot of that tonight.

Harry was instantly on his feet and backing away from his teacher, fear the prominent emotion in his eyes.

“Harry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please, just let me see your back. If you’re injured, I can heal it.” he said as way of an explanation.

Severus watched as the boy seemed to contemplate his options. Finally, he cautiously walked back over towards his Professor, and went to pull his sweater off. As soon as he went to lift the shirt, the muscles in his back pulled, shooting intense pain through his back.

“Are you alright?” asked Severus, as the boy in front of him suddenly stiffened. Harry merely nodded, not quite understanding anything beyond the pain encompassing him. “Perhaps I should assist you?” he asked, or rather told the younger man.

Harry continued to nod. Severus stepped over to him and helped remove the sweater, cringing himself as the boy flinched at the movement. As he was standing in front of Harry, he took the boy’s shoulders and turned him around. His eyes widened at the site before him. There was a fairly large bruise that had formed in the middle of the boy’s shoulder blades and trailed down towards about the middle of his back. The dark purple

of the bruise almost made it look black, but Severus could only think of how hard you would have to hit someone to make the bruise color like that.

Turning Harry back around, he noticed the boy was still in a daze. “Are you alright?” he asked again. Severus knelt down in front of the boy, who was extremely short compared to him, and looked into his eyes. “How did this happen?” he asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the details.

“Tree.” said Harry, as if this explained everything in a nut shell. Severus just stared at the boy in confusion.

“Excuse me?” he said, clearly not understanding.

“He slammed me into a tree.” said Harry.

Severus looked at the cold ground in contemplation. He knew the bruise shouldn’t be that dark if he was just slammed into a tree. Now, if he had been picked up and thrown into a tree that might explain it. He was missing something, he just didn’t know what.

“He must have slammed you rather hard, considering the size and color of the bruise, Potter.” he said, carefully watching the younger face.

Harry sighed in resignation. He’d have to tell him now. He hadn’t complained about it earlier, as the bruise really hadn’t been that bad. His uncle never did aim to bruise, as that always led to too many questions. But Jeb had only made the already existing, yet practically gone, bruise worse. Stupid prick.

“How much did you see in the parking garage that day?” asked Harry suddenly, surprising Severus with the change of subject.

“What does that have to do with this?” asked Severus.

“You’ll see. How much did you see?” he asked again.

Severus took a minute to remember all that had happened that day. He had seen everything that had happened in the garage, but he wasn’t sure if the boy would be angry that he hadn’t reacted sooner than he had. “I saw enough.” he said.

Harry raised an eyebrow in irritation. “Okay.” he said, drawing out the last syllables. “Did you see when my…um…uncle,” he really hated referring to the man as any sort of family, but oh well. “threw me against the car?” he asked, eyes resting on the ground, as he didn’t like talking about the abuse he suffered at his uncle’s hands, especially to Snape.

Severus paused. He did remember that. That had been when he’d decided to act. “Yes, I do believe I remember that moment.” he said, watching the boy for his reaction.

“Oh…well, it left a bit of a bruise, and that guide only complicated matters.” he said quickly, still looking at the earth below him as if it were the most magnificent thing he had ever looked upon.

“Ah, that explains things.” he realized he’d have to watch the boy closely. If the blasted child hurt himself, he’d more than likely not tell him until he was dying or close to it. “I’ve got an ointment in my bag for bruises. Wait one moment.” he said and hurried over to his bedding. Grabbing said bag, he made his way back to Harry.

“Alright, lie down, and I’ll put this on your back.” he directed Harry. The boy did as he was told and laid down on his own makeshift bed. As Severus rubbed it in, he sighed in relief as the ointment immediately started to ease his pain. “I take it you feel better now?” he asked.

“Yeah.” mumbled Harry, sleep already dragging him down. Severus noted that the ointment had dissolved into the boy’s back, as it was supposed to, and he covered the slumbering child.

“Sleep well.” he said.

*********************

The cold was unbearable, and there was nothing he could do about it. The damn ropes seemed to only strengthen whenever he struggled to get out of them. He had already encountered one too many wild, ferocious beasts than he had ever dreamed of seeing. All in all, he was miserable. However, he wasn’t completely down in the dumps. He had called out, sounding suspiciously like a nightingale, for help. Moments later and the beast he had wanted to see the most approached him.

Jeb’s vicious looking Rottweiler came stalking up towards the tree he was bound to. The dog had been following the three of them since the day they left. Under Jeb’s command, of course.

“Up, boy!” he yelled, and the dog did as commanded. Jumping up on its hind legs, the Rottweiler supported himself by putting his front paws on either side of Jeb’s body. It was quite a monstrous dog. “Good boy.” he whispered, grabbing the dog’s collar and what he had put there himself on the off chance something of this degree happened.

With the newly acquired wand in his calloused hand, he undid the ropes binding him, and collapsed onto the ground in an undignified heap. He watched with weary eyes as the dog trotted away from him, his mission complete.

“That brat’s going to pay.” he vowed, climbing slowly to his feet.

*********************

Hours later from the time they had awoken earlier and they were once again trekking the dangerous grounds of the mountain. It had grown increasingly colder as they walked, and Harry kept his cloak wrapped tightly around himself. He was wishing desperately that he had packed more sufficiently for this stupid weather. There was an ample supply of snow, it seemed, and he grudgingly noticed that he kept slipping into the deeper parts of it. The bottom of his pants legs were soaked through and chills were now creeping steadily into his body.

They had finally reached the area where the cave, as Severus called it, was supposed to be located. However, they were no closer to finding it. He knew the location, but not the exact spot. They had searched the hillsides completely and still there was no sign of it.

“Do you think we could stop for a bit?” asked Harry, teeth chattering. Severus turned to see that Harry was shivering, jumping up and down in one spot, and rubbing his hands together.

“Cold?” he asked, smirking.

“Just a little.” replied Harry, sarcastically.

“Yes, we can stop here for the evening. There’s not much more we can do anyways.” decided Severus, dropping a bag to the ground, where the land was relatively clear of snow.

“Thank goodness.” answered Harry, immediately dropping to the ground. He had never been so cold, as far as he could remember.

“Are you hungry?” asked the Professor, pulling out what appeared to be fish, from the food bag.

“No.” said Harry. In fact, he felt slightly sick to his stomach, but he wasn’t about to tell Snape that.

“Harry, you didn’t eat lunch either. You need to eat.” he stated, handing him a piece of the fish.

Harry’s stomach rolled in protest. Definitely not eating. “No thanks. I don’t like fish, and besides, I’m really not hungry.” he added.

Snape raised an unbelieving eyebrow. “You’re sure?” he finally asked.

“Yes.” said Harry, grateful that Snape wasn’t pressuring him to eat more.

“Very well.” said Severus, not wishing to argue with the boy. “But you must drink some water, at the very least.” he said, throwing him a water bottle.

At least he could handle water. “Alright.” said Harry. He took the bottle and almost downed its contents. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he had been. After his teacher had finished eating and was lying carelessly on his bed, reading a book, he decided to ask his question.

“So, what’s in this cave?” he asked, very interested.

Snape looked up from his book. “I guess I’ve kept this from you long enough.” he stated, and sat up.

Harry nearly jumped with joy. It was about time. He’d been dying to know what was in this cave, and why Snape was being so secretive about the whole thing.

“Let me finish before you start babbling with your questions, got it?” he demanded, an edge to his tone.

“Okay.” said Harry, uncertainly.

“My cousin, Del, told me a story when I was a teenager about an Orb that was hidden in these mountains. Of course, at the time, I didn’t believe her; I personally thought the woman had a few screws loose. I can only assume that a certain pain in my…rear,” he figured he shouldn’t curse too much in front of the child, “must have been eavesdropping and overheard a conversation I was having with my father.”

“Who?” asked Harry, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Ah, yes. I do believe you’ve met Lucius Malfoy, have you not?” asked Severus.

Harry only nodded, too afraid he might say something he shouldn’t.

“Yes, well, it was him. Bloody idiot never could stay out of other people’s business. And so, naturally, he told our Lord, and he’s been looking for it ever since. He never knew the exact location, and since this island has its own protections, it appears as if no magic even exists here. But if you’re looking for it, it can be found. This is one of the reasons I’ve not allowed you to use your magic.” he stated.

“Oh.” replied Harry. “But what is so important about this orb?” he asked.

Severus had been hoping he could get around this certain aspect, but no. “Well, the orb has a specific power, and no matter who wields it, it will only bring destruction. That is why we are after it, to destroy it.” he said. “The power it holds is this: It can bring back the dead.” he ended, waiting patiently for Harry’s questions.

“Wait, I thought magic couldn’t bring back the dead.” he said, or more questioned.

“You can’t. One can’t bring back a person alive. This Orb will bring back the dead, but the only difference is that they remain dead, and undeniably evil.” said Severus.

“Oh.” replied Harry, hanging his head. When Severus had said the Orb brought back the dead, for one tiny second he had hoped this was the answer to his prayers. He could bring back his parents, and finally have a family who cared for him. But that idea had been shot down like lightning. “You’re certain they’ll be evil?” he asked, still hanging on to his hopes by a thread.

“Yes, they will be evil.” he stated softly. “The Orb was created to bring back legions of the dead, as an undefeatable army. Dark Lords before Voldemort thought it was a splendid idea. Why waste time on bringing followers over to their side, when they could just conjure them out of thin air, and an Orb, of course. There was a downside, however. No one could control them, not even the most powerful sorcerer. The only way to defeat them was to send them back to the hells that they came from. They were banished back inside the Orb and it was then hidden, deep in these mountains. Do you understand now, why this Orb cannot get into Voldemort’s hands? Or anyone’s for that matter?” he asked, stressing the last question. He knew the boy longed for his parents, and that was what he had been dreading.

“Yes, I understand.” said Harry. He may have been depressed about having his hopes taken away from him, but he would never let that bastard get his hands on the Orb. What if the Dark Lord brought back his parents just to spite him? He didn’t think he could handle trying to kill his parents, even if they were just evil reincarnate.

“Good.” said Severus. It was getting late, the sun had just set beyond the trees behind him, and he noticed the temperature had dropped increasingly. Story time had taken up some definite time. “You’d better bundle up tonight, Harry, it’s getting colder.” he told the younger boy.

“I had planned on it, sir.” he said, as he’d been freezing since they’d stopped a few hours ago. He thought the bottom of his pants had frozen, but they had just dried stiff and extremely cold.

Severus just raised an eyebrow. “How’s your back?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s fine. That ointment helped a lot. Thank you.” he couldn’t remember if he had said it before, so he thought he’d say it now.

“You’re welcome.” said Severus. “Do you think you’re going to need a Dreamless Sleep potion tonight?” he asked, as if nothing had happened that morning.

“Um…no, I think I’ll be alright.” Harry didn’t want to admit to his nightmares, so he hoped he wouldn’t have any that night.

Snape obviously didn’t believe him. “What was that nightmare about earlier?” he asked, waiting for Harry to freak out on him.

“I didn’t have a nightmare!” said Harry, indignantly.

“Really?” asked Severus, cynically. “I don’t believe you.”

Harry merely shrugged his shoulders and walked over to his bed roll. “Believe what you want.”

“Was it about Jeb…or your relatives?” he asked, carefully.

Harry froze. “That’s none of your business.” he snapped.

“Ah, so you did have a nightmare?” asked Severus, smirking.

“Oh, shut up!” yelled Harry. With that he got under his covers and refused to speak with Severus.

Undaunted, Severus got a bottle out of his bag and placed it beside where he assumed Harry’s head would be. “Just in case.” he said.

About an hour later, Harry woke quickly from a bad dream. His uncle had been…well, he’d been himself. Spotting the Dreamless Sleep potion, exactly where Severus had left it, he gave in and took the potion. He never even noticed his teacher watching him as he fell into a peaceful sleep.