“Get up!” Harry was still so shocked by being threatened at wand point that he couldn’t respond at first. The man behind him pushed him maliciously and he fell to the ground, face first. Finally, his senses returned to him and he quickly turned over. It was practically pitch black outside, the moon hidden behind a vast amount of clouds, and Harry found it difficult to tell just who was towering menacingly over him.

He hurriedly got to his feet, squinting in the darkness, but all he could see was an outline. The voice had been harsh and he’d been unable to identify him even by that standard. All he knew was this was a male figure and a mean one at that. He grasped blindly for his wand, but a muttered ‘accio wand’ came from the man and he was left defenseless.

“What do you want?” he asked shakily.

“I do believe you will soon discover exactly what I want, Mr. Potter.” Suddenly, Harry absolutely knew that voice, was appalled that he hadn’t recognized it before, and a shudder of dread crept down his spine.

“You won’t get away with this, Dillard!” he spat, and despite his knowledge that it probably wouldn’t work, he tried to run for the castle. He was so close! But, powerless as he was, he didn’t have much of a chance at all. A spell came speeding after him and he found himself petrified and lying prone on the icy ground. He wanted to scream in frustration! How could he have let his guard down? What was he thinking? He should have known Dillard would come back for him; the man had been too irrational not too. Harry had no idea what Dillard had against him, but he had a sinking feeling he’d find out tonight.

Stuck as he was, he could do nothing as the former Professor knelt down beside him and grinned evilly. “Did you honestly think I’d let you escape?” he spat, his eyes growing hard. “You’ll regret that, Potter. And any other attempts at escape will be punished!” Harry shivered in despair. How was he going to get out of this one? “Now, we’re going to leave behind some evidence, boy. Let’s see just how long it takes someone to come after you.” With that, he began undoing Harry’s robe, manipulating the boy roughly as he removed it. Without his robe, Harry felt a cold chill creep through his body as the snow beneath him seeped into his clothing, making him even more miserable.

Harry couldn’t see beyond what was directly in front of his face. He felt Dillard’s hands on his wrists and wondered what he was doing. He soon became aware as a length of rope was tied tightly around them. He would have cried out had he been able. That had hurt! Soon, he was released from his position and harshly pulled to his feet. “Let me go!” he yelled, struggling against his captor. “I’m not going anywhere with you!” He quickly regretted his outburst as he was brutally backhanded and left lying on the ground. He was rapidly losing his resolve. Harry tried to pick himself up, but fell back to the ground with a grunt. The blow had left him feeling dizzy and in a great deal of pain. The teen knew his face was already swelling from the hit.

Dillard grabbed him and pulled him to his feet, none too gently, then forced him towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry wasn’t completely aware of what he was doing, otherwise he would have fought the man then and there. He was dimly aware of the man dropping his robe by the lake and took to wondering why. He’d forgotten he already knew. As they were passing by Hagrid’s Hut, the door suddenly came open and the half-giant appeared from within. Awareness came crashing back as hope filled him. Hagrid!

“Hag..” a hand slapped over his mouth and he was propelled backwards behind a tree.

“Who’s there?” he heard Hagrid ask. Harry tried to pry the hand away from his mouth, but Dillard’s next words silenced him completely.

“You get his attention, Potter, and he’s a dead man.” The words were whispered viciously and he was shaken for good measure. But, he slumped in defeat. He wouldn’t let Hagrid get killed just because of him! A few silent tears streaked down his face when he heard the half-giant mutter something to Fang and disappear back inside his hut. He felt lost.

He was drug to his feet and shoved into moving. He let himself fall into the motions of walking and trying to stay out of Dillard’s way. He knew he wouldn’t remain unharmed this night, but hoped to keep the abuse to a minimum by steering clear of the man. When they entered the Forest, Harry’s despair grew. He could only guess that the former Professor was escorting him through the Forest and beyond the wards, at which point all hope would be lost for him. There was still a chance, he thought, as long as he was on the grounds. But, would anyone even notice he’d gone missing yet? He was seriously beginning to regret leaving Remus’ office. Please notice I’m gone! he thought desperately.

Through his inane mental babble, he realized that Dillard was leading them just along the edge of the Forest, but not treading any father within. “Where are we going?” he dared to ask. He cringed at the glare he received.

He watched curiously as Dillard shrugged. “Why not?” the man said to himself. “Once we’re beyond the wards, and I can apparate, I’m taking you to the Jumbling Tower.”

Harry frowned at him. “What’s the Jumbling Tower?” he asked.

“None of your business. That’s all you need to know, and you’re lucky I told you that much. Damn brat.” he hissed, and Harry wisely shut his mouth.

They continued on silently with Dillard behind Harry. Whenever Harry would slow down, the man would jab him harshly with his wand, spurring him to move faster. He knew he’d have odd shaped bruises on his back, considering how hard the man was poking him. They had grown steadily closer to the edge of the wards, with Harry trying discretely to post-pone their arrival, when he heard something off in the distance. A branch had snapped. He stopped where he stood and flinched as Dillard shoved into him. “Keep moving!” he bellowed, the wand already in his back.

“But, I think something’s out there.” he muttered, trying to peer into the darkness to no avail. He couldn’t see anything.

“You’re just stalling, kid, and it’s not going to work. Now, move!” Harry was shoved hard from behind and nearly tripped over a tree root protruding from the ground. He sighed in annoyance. He would welcome any dark creature at this point, if it would help him escape this psychopath. They were now mere yards away from the apparation point. Harry grew panicky. He had silently hoped and prayed that Severus, Sirius, or Remus would go looking for him once they’d realized he’d gone. And if they had really thought about it, they would have gotten the Marauder’s Map and looked for him by that means. Obviously, no one had even noticed he’d gone missing. Or they just didn’t care, he thought bitterly, because they were too caught up in their stupid argument.

He paused again. He still heard something! This time, Dillard came to an abrupt halt himself. “What is that?” he asked, but Harry couldn’t answer his question, as he didn’t know either. The two stood silently. Cowardly, Dillard pulled Harry in front of himself, in an effort to save his own skin. He instinctively tried to pull away but the man wouldn’t allow it. He gripped the boy’s shoulder so hard Harry had to grit his teeth not to cry out. “Stay where you are, Potter.” he growled.

It seemed like an eternity they stood waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, though, and Dillard finally deemed it safe to move again. “Probably a rabid dog.” he heard Dillard say. Harry highly doubted that.

“Keep moving, I don’t want to stay in this Forest for any longer than necessary.” he mumbled, shoving Harry along.

“Why’d we come in here in the first place?” he asked, knowing his voice sounded too condescending for his own good. Dillard slapped him upside the back of his head.

“Why do you think, idiot? As if I was going to be able to just stroll across the grounds with you in tow? I think not. This way we stay in the shadows and no one can see us.” Harry could tell the man was getting more and more frustrated with him. Where were they? If Dillard got him across the wards there would be no hope. The odds of someone actually finding him would be slim and he knew the man had some kind of cruel plot deigned for him. He probably wants to kill me and send my body back to Hogwarts a piece at a time, he thought morbidly.

He stopped short, causing Dillard to smack him again. “Alright you little brat, if you stop one more time, I swear, I am going to beat the hell out of you!” he bellowed, and started slapping him furiously. Harry saw the yellow eyes staring at him, even as he tried to defend himself from the man’s wild blows. As the animal crouched low on it’s haunches, Harry dove for the ground. He heard Dillard scream as he was attacked. Flipping onto his back, he watched in morbid fascination as the animal struck with massive paws. Harry felt a moment of pure panic as he realized what the animal could be. It looked exactly like a werewolf, only more powerful in it’s shape and had a lot more hair. There was only one problem with this logic. It wasn’t a full moon. What the hell was going on? Harry pulled himself up and was about to run when the werewolf like creature spotted him once more. They both froze. He noticed that Dillard was hurt, he had been bitten on the arm, but Harry really could care less about that man’s welfare. The werewolf began moving towards him steadily and Harry was at a loss for what to do.

The teen took a step back, but stopped instantly when the animal growled viciously at him. ‘Oh, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.’ he ranted inside his head. It seemed he was fated not to survive this night, considering the way things had turned out so far. The werewolf attacked, launching himself right at the boy. Harry raised his arms defensively and waited for the killing blow. He was shocked when another growl of rage filled the Forest. He looked up just in time to see a massive dog bowl into the werewolf and send both of them sprawling across the ground. Harry couldn’t suppress his glee. Zane! He couldn’t get over just how big the dog was. That wasn’t natural. He’d always wondered if there wasn’t something magical about Zane, now he had reason to believe he was. But, now he had an opportunity he couldn’t turn down. Dillard looked down for the count, he lay moaning on the ground, holding his arm to his chest. He felt awful about leaving Zane, but if he didn’t escape now, he might not get another chance. He faltered when Zane was thrown against a tree, but he jumped right back up. It was now or never, so Harry ran.

He flew haphazardly around the trees, hoping to use Dillard’s strategy of staying in the shadows to avoid being seen. He’d be a wide-open target if he took off across the grounds. The bastard would have him stunned before he got half way there. He could hear growls and whimpers coming from behind him, and his heart broke knowing he just left Zane to his possible death. But, there was no other course of action to take. If he could only make it back to Hagrid’s Hut, he’d be safe. They could floo into Hogwarts if they had to! Breath coming in short gasps, Harry felt hope return as he saw smoke billowing in the distance. Hagrid! He was almost there. He would make it!

He suddenly felt something collide into him and he crashed to the icy ground. Something heavy lay on his back and he found himself unable to move. For a brief moment, he thought the werewolf had caught up to him, but then he heard the voice. “You’ll pay for that, Potter.”

As he was flipped onto his back, Harry started hitting the man for all he was worth. “No!” he roared, trying desperately to fight the man off. Dillard pulled back and with as much force as he could, slammed his fist into Harry’s face. His arms fell, like dead weights, to his sides. The boy was only barely aware of what was going on around him. He knew suddenly that he was being dragged, but couldn’t muster up the strength to try and stop it. Trees upon trees past through his vision and he dimly realized that they were going back and getting deeper into the woods. “No..” he cried, but it was barely a whisper and no one heard him. He thought he saw a body, a dog’s body, lying in the dirt a few feet away. “Zane.” he moaned, but a harsh kick to his back sent him reeling.

They had reached the apparation point. To Harry, all hope had been lost. He felt the dizzying feel of apparation just before his world turned to black.

…………………………………….

It was utterly silent when he finally came back into the waking world. But, as he slowly came back to his senses, he could hear a light creaking sound, almost as if the foundation of the building he found himself in was still trying to settle. Cautiously, Harry opened his eyes. He sighed in relief when he discovered he was alone. He took the chance and glanced quickly around the room; afraid he’d be attacked at any moment if he wasn’t careful of his surroundings. But, he was left undisturbed. The room was dusty. Harry doubted it had been in use for many years. Cobwebs hung from every corner and attached themselves to every surface. It was a relatively small room, with a bed, a night table, a fireplace, and a rickety looking chair in the far corner.

Looking up, he found he was lying almost directly in front of the door and assumed that Dillard had just dumped him there. He was utterly freezing! His robe still lay somewhere on Hogwarts grounds, presumably, and his clothes were still damp from being out in the snowy and icy weather. He gathered he hadn’t been unconscious long, considering the condition of his clothing. His head was beginning to ache, his throat was growing scratchy, and he had to sniff several times in the past few minutes. He was getting a cold. If he’d had his wand, he would have started a fire in the fireplace. However, by the looks of this building it probably would have been a fire hazard just to light a match. Regretfully, Harry beat what remained of the bedspread until it was relatively dust free. Climbing onto the bed, he pulled the blanket around himself and sat shivering, huddled against the headboard. He hoped Dillard took his time before returning. The teen could live without having to deal with him.

…….

Harry woke with a start. He must have fallen asleep. How he was capable of sleeping at a time like this, he was uncertain, but he’d done it. A few hours had past. He was still wearing his watch, thankfully. Glancing about the room, he wondered if Dillard had entered while he’d been asleep. He couldn’t see any other footprints in the dust, other than his own, and knew he hadn’t. Harry doubted his luck would last for much longer.

Ten minutes later and there was still no sign of Dillard. ‘I could test the door.’ He thought to himself. He hadn’t done it earlier, fearing his former professor was merely laying in wait. But, seeing as how he still hadn’t come, he decided it was worth it. Maybe the older man had left the building. He could hope.

He got up from the bed, wrapped the blanket around himself, and went silently to the door. He tried the handle. “Damn.” he cursed his luck. It was locked. He knew it would be, why wouldn’t it? Shoulders sagging in defeat, he pulled the blanket tighter around his thin body. He was thirsty, but there was nothing to be done about it. There was no bathroom and no way out of the room. He was trapped. Shivering once again, he climbed back onto the bed and curled into a ball, facing the door. He didn’t want Dillard to come inside the room without him knowing it. He lay there for hours, fighting sleep he was so exhausted from the day’s events. He kept expecting to see the older man walk through the door at any moment. But it still hadn’t happened. His eyelids grew heavy and began to drift shut. They drifted open and shut a few more times before finally the brilliant green eyes were hidden. He slept.

……..

A loud creaking noise startled him awake. He looked towards the door, but it was still shut. He let out a long breath of air. The tension of waiting was really beginning to get to him. His eyes drifted closed again. They tried to snap back open as something was put against his face. He tried to get it off, but somehow it was pushed more firmly against him. He couldn’t breathe! He kicked and slapped and clawed. Distantly, he felt someone straddle his waist to keep him still. He tried to struggle, he tried to scream, but all that came out were muffled screams and gasps. And then, the pillow was gone. He was finally able to pull in desperate breaths of air. Tears slid down the sides of his face.

Dillard stood close to the bed. Harry scrambled up towards the headboard, not wanting to be put into a position where he could be forced down on the bed again. The man smiled cruelly at him. The raven-haired boy tried to give as good as he got, but didn’t think he quite mustered a glare. He frowned instead.

“You should really pay more attention, Harry.” he said, in a falsely gentle voice.

Harry cringed. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, still trembling from his earlier experience. He didn’t know what was worse, being drowned or being smothered. Neither was pleasant.

David Dillard’s eyes grew suddenly cold. “This is payback, Harry, against crimes done to my family and myself.” he spat, and Harry flinched away from the man when he drew closer to the bed.

“What are you talking about?” asked Harry. “I haven’t done anything to you, nor to your family. I don’t even know them!” he yelled. This man wasn’t being rational. He was obviously insane!

Harry watched cautiously as Dillard sat down in the chair across from him. The man elegantly crossed one leg over the other and laced his fingers together. “I’ll give you that, Potter, but I’m not doing this because of you, I’m doing it because of Severus Snape.” He hissed. Harry’s eyes widened. “And Lucius Malfoy, for that matter. The youngest Malfoy may soon be in your company as well. Both of you will pay for your father’s sins!”

“What? Why?” asked Harry. What could Severus and Lucius Malfoy have possibly done to this man? Then it hit him. If he’d been thinking logically it might have come to him sooner. Severus used to be a Death Eater. The elder Malfoy still was. Was that it? Had the two men done something to David Dillard’s family while under Voldemort’s thumb?

Cold steel blue eyes bore into Harry’s frightened green ones. “They murdered my family.” he spat. Dillard slowly began rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing tanned skin, and something else. Something Harry honestly hadn’t been expecting at all. The Dark Mark.

“What? You were one of them?” Harry asked incredulously. None of this was making sense. If he was a Death Eater…Harry was in a state of confusion.

“For a time, yes.” he began. “I joined his ranks a few months before your father did, Potter. I was older and possessed more advanced skills in fighting than Severus, but due to his Potions skills, he was given a higher rank than I.” he said, almost bitterly. “I tried, oh how I tried, to please our Master, but nothing I did was good enough. Torture was his favorite brand of punishment for a deed left unfulfilled. There’s only so much a man can take, you realize, and I wanted out. My wife and I had a plan of escape. We were to fake my death,” Harry thought that sounded awfully familiar. “And disappear into another country. We hadn’t fully decided yet. But, somehow, our plan was leaked to You-Know-Who.” he stopped suddenly.

Harry stared at him stoically. Why had he stopped? He was almost afraid to know what happened. Had Severus helped to murder his family? The thought made him feel ill. He knew his father had done horrible things while under Voldemort’s service, but somehow he always just thought he had somehow gotten out of doing anything gruesome, like murder.

Dillard suddenly stood and walked to the side of his bed. Harry unconsciously pushed himself further into the headboard and brought his knees to his chest. Protection. Harry watched apprehensively as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I had a son.” he said quietly. “He was there the night my home was attacked.” Harry gaped.

“Oh.” he wasn’t sure what response, if any, Dillard was expecting. It was all he could give.

“He was about your age.” he continued. “Your adoptive father killed him.”

Harry gagged as bile rose up in his throat. “No…no, you’re lying.” he whispered, pulling his legs tight against his chest. “He wouldn’t have done that!”

“Oh, but he did, Harry.” he said, with that falsely gentle voice again.

Green eyes flared. “Liar!” he spat. He lunged at the older man, toppling both of them to the floor. A rage had filled him unlike anything he’d felt before. He grasped Dillard’s head and began banging it against the floor. “Stop lying!” he screamed. His heart wouldn’t allow him to believe the foul words that had been said. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t possibly be true. He was hardly aware of his surroundings, but was coherent enough to feel panic when the tables were turned and he was slammed onto the floor on his back. When had that happened?

He struggled against the man holding him to the ground. Dillard was grasping for something on the bed, but Harry couldn’t tell what it was. Suddenly, he had the pillow in his hands again.

“No!” he screamed, huge green eyes widening in fear, realizing what the man intended to do. Harry grabbed the pillow, desperately trying to rip it away from his attacker. He wasn’t nearly strong enough to fight against the muscular man. The cold, both the chill and the illness, had weakened him. If only he had his wand! Harry’s arms finally bent under the attack, and the pillow smashed against his face. Breath was stolen from his lungs in his last frantic attempt at heaving the pillow off. He began kicking his legs wildly, trying his best to buck the man off, to no avail. He grasped blindly for Dillard’s face. Upon finding it, he dug his nails into the skin. Harry heard a gasp of pain. The pillow was momentarily released and he was able to breathe again.

“You little brat!” screamed Dillard. The pillow was removed, but instantly replaced with vicious fists. Harry screamed as he was punched repeatedly. Dillard leaned into his face. “You’re going to die, just like my son died. I’ll take from Snape what he took from me!” Harry flinched and fought frantically as the pillow was once more in his hands.

“No, get away from me.” he rasped, his voice nearly gone.

Harry watched in bewilderment, as Dillard’s face grew remorseful before hardening once more. “It has to be done. I’ll make him feel the way I felt. He’ll suffer as I’ve suffered.” He looked Harry in the eyes. “Your adoptive father smothered my son before my very eyes. I was helpless to stop it. After their deaths, they left me there. Barely alive. I wonder now if they thought I was dead. But it’s no matter now. You know, I could never take revenge on Snape the way I wanted to. He never had a child. Not until you. You’re not blood related, but you’re the next best thing. He cares about you, boy, and now you’ll die the way my own son died, Potter.” he said slowly, one hand grasped around the pillow, the other around Harry’s throat.

No, no, no. Get away, please get away. He thought urgently as the pillow grew closer and the hand squeezed tighter. Get off, get off, get off, now! His mind screamed. No sooner had the words, the plea, gone through his mind than a strong breeze whipped through the room. Dillard had the pillow pressed over his face again, but Harry didn’t even realize. He could only focus on the words in his head, get away, get away, get off, get off, get off of me!

And suddenly, the pressure was gone. The pillow was gone. He could breathe. Gasping in sharp breaths, he unsteadily made it to his feet. He looked around the room, wondering where Dillard had gone, why he had let up. But, what he saw shocked him. His former Professor was all the way across the room, sprawled across the floor. There was an indention in the wall directly above him. It looked like Dillard had struck the wall at an extremely hard impact, knocking him unconscious…possibly dead.

Had he done that? And if he did, how had he done that? Harry started to go towards the man lying prone on the floor, but thought better of it. He noticed his wand on the floor, mere feet away from his kidnapper. As quick as his sore body allowed, he hobbled over and grabbed it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man, blood pooling beneath his head. “Oh, God.” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to…”

He knew this man had just tried to smother him to death. But, he couldn’t help but feel awful for killing him. What had he done? Grasping his wand tightly to his chest, he stumbled out the door. It had been unlocked. There were stairs to his left and he ran down them. He searched wildly for the door, but couldn’t see one. There were windows, no doors. What kind of place was this? He remembered Dillard saying they were going to the Jumbling Tower. Was this it? Seeing no other option, he picked up a nearby chair and threw it at a window facing the street outside. He half expected the chair to bounce back, but it didn’t, it broke and went sailing on through. Turning his face to avoid getting hit with shattering glass, he then kicked out any remaining glass and climbed out.

The wind shocked him so deeply he fell to his knees. He was so cold. He should have taken the blanket on his way out, but in his haste hadn’t thought of it. He wasn’t going back now. And where in the hell was he? He stumbled about on wobbly legs trying to find any sign to show where he was. He looked at the crossing corners of two streets, but as his luck would have it, there were no road signs. Was he even in London anymore?

If anyone were to see him now they might think him to be drunk. He staggered and swayed as he walked down the deserted street. His body was so sore and his head was absolutely throbbing. He felt miserable and he wanted to sleep so badly. And could it be any colder? His teeth chattered as a violent gust of wind tore through the leave-less trees and hit him straight on. He was tired, so incredibly tired. Thinking straight was hard to do. He continued down the street, stopping occasionally to catch his breath. It was hard to catch sometimes. He was halfway down the nameless street when an idea occurred to him. He looked at his wand before holding it out in front of him. His heart nearly stopped when a loud bang broke the silence of the night. A bright purple triple-decker bus sped towards him; coming to a stop right when he thought it would hit him. Instinctively, he stepped back.

Stan Shunpike stepped off the bus and looked at him oddly. “What happened to you, mate?” he asked.

Harry grimaced. “I got into a fight.” he muttered.

“What’d you do that fer?” he asked. Harry looked at him dully.

“I didn’t have a say in the matter.” he said, stepping onto the bus.

He could tell Stan was following behind him into the bus. He picked a bed towards the back and sat down upon it gingerly. “I can’t pay right now, but I will as soon as I get back to Hogwarts.” he whispered, praying they wouldn’t kick him off the bus.

But the young man seemed to realize he needed help and waved off his words. “No worries. Why don’t cha just lay back and relax?” he said.

Harry was more than happy to comply. “Can you take me to the Leaky Cauldron?” he asked before he passed out where he lay.

If Stan Shunpike had replied to his question, Harry wouldn’t know it, he was already asleep.

………………………………….

A gentle shaking woke him sometime later. “Hey, Mr. Potter. We’re here, mate.”

Harry heard the words. He carefully pulled himself into an upright position. “Thanks” he rasped. He had practically lost his voice, his throat felt almost on fire. The cold he had been accumulating over the fortnight had intensified, it seemed, and he felt even more miserable than before. His muscles groaned in protest as he climbed from the bed. The scene outside of the window, however, was not the Leaky Cauldron. “Wait…”

Stan grinned at the boy. “You said you wanted to get to Hogwarts, so we dropped you a mite closer. Quite frankly, you didn’t look able to make it very far in your condition.”

Smiling in relief, he shook the young man’s hand. “Thanks, Stan. I really appreciate this.” he whispered. “I can owl you the money I owe you.” He began, but Stan shook his head vigorously.

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. It was the least we could do.” he said, motioning to Ernie. The old man sat crookedly in his seat, staring at Harry almost worriedly. He wondered just how bad he looked.

“Well, thanks just the same.” he said, having every intention of sending the money no matter what they said. It was the least he could do.

“Anytime, Mr. Potter.” he replied, grinning. “Be careful.”

There was no other course of action but to be careful for Harry. If he wasn’t, he’d end up on his face. His entire body ached terribly. Climbing down from the bus proved to be more difficult than he would have originally thought. Stiffened muscles made it nearly impossible, but he somehow managed it, keeping his stifled moans to himself.

On the street now, he waved slowly to the two men who had rescued him, even if they didn’t realize it. They had picked him up and taken him home, away from a treacherous situation. He was at a crossroads, one way led to Hogsmeade, the other to Hogwarts. He took the road leading to the magnificent castle in the distance. The hour was early, and he caught himself wondering if anyone had noticed he’d been missing, or if everyone had gone to sleep unknowing of his absence. The thought nearly made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t know why these feelings of doubt kept surfacing, but he wished they go away and stay gone. Severus cared about him, he hoped at least, but he always wondered how much…or how little.

The closer he got to the school the more worried he became. Would they think he’d run off? He had just walked out on Sirius, Remus and Severus while they were fighting. What if they just assumed he’d gotten angry and ran away? He wasn’t as ignorant as all that, but that didn’t necessarily mean the others wouldn’t think just that. Oh, what was he thinking? As soon as they took one look at him they’d realize the truth. He’d been taken. He hadn’t run off, he’d been forcibly removed from the protections of Hogwarts. Dillard. The man was probably dead. How couldn’t he be? He’d lost too much blood not to be dead. He’d probably busted his entire head open. Harry’s stomach rolled in protest. The image was too gruesome to even think of. It had been self-defense, he couldn’t deny that, but what had he done to make it happen? That still confused him. He recalled a burst of wind just before it had happened. He could remember other instances when he’d been particularly upset and his hair had suddenly gone blowing around his face…only there hadn’t been any wind, not natural anyways. Like when the twins, Ron, and Neville had confronted him about his bruises. Wind had blown up in the twin’s dormitory though no window had been opened and the door had been shut.

He sneezed repeatedly, making his throat burn and his chest hurt. He was still shivering from the cold and was hardly dressed appropriately to be out in this type of weather besides which. He crossed his arms across his chest trying to generate more warmth. Nothing seemed to help. He desperately wanted to just sit down and rest. Hogwarts was so close, though. He was almost there. If he could only hold on a little bit longer, he could soon go up to his dormitory, crawl into bed, and sleep into the next day if he had anything to say about it.

The sun had not yet risen and a gloom shrouded the land in front of him. Hogwarts was just beyond the trees scattered sparsely in front of him. Of course, he’d still have to walk past the trees, through Hogwarts grounds, and up many flights of stairs before he could go to sleep. He was finally past the trees, but what he saw surprised him. He could see many people milling about the grounds; most of them were by the Forbidden Forest. He saw a group enter the Forest just as he’d approached the grounds. He felt it as the wards allowed him to pass through. Safe…he was safe. Still hidden by the shadows of the trees behind him, he watched the scene before him curiously.

“Those are Order members.” he mumbled to himself. “Oh no, I’m in so much trouble.” he gasped. What must they be thinking? That Voldemort had abducted me? He cringed. That’s probably exactly what they had thought. The ex-professor Dillard had probably never crossed their minds. A group of wizards and witches, presumably Order members and Hogwarts staff alike, had just disappeared into the Forest as another group had come out. Motion by the front doors caught his attention. Standing there with Professor Flitwick was Ron, Hermione, and the twins. They were the only students Harry saw out.

His shivering had increased. In that moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to be held, for the nightmare he had just lived to disappear. He wanted his father, despite what he’d discovered about the man that night. Half of him thought it could be a lie. He’d find out later…when he could think straight. He broke cover from the trees and half hobbled, half ran towards the place he called home. Ron saw him first.

Harry watched distantly as his friend looked in his direction, looked away, then did a double take. Ron took a halting step in his direction before breaking into a dead run, screaming his name. Hermione and the twins looked startled before seeing Harry themselves. Their reaction was almost the same as Ron’s.

He tried to run faster, but almost fell for his efforts. He had to slow down instead, much to his dismay. “Ron.” he tried to say but couldn’t manage it. His exhaustion overwhelmed him and he collapsed. But, it didn’t matter, they had reached him. His head and shoulders were lifted and laid in someone’s lap.

“Harry, can you hear me?” Hermione asked. He could, but didn’t answer. He was so tired.

“Oh, Merlin, his face, look at his face.” whispered someone; he thought it might be Fred. He again wondered how bad he looked. Dillard had hit him awfully hard, and repeatedly. He couldn’t look good considering the angry whispered words going on around him.

“Harry, come on now, you need to focus. Look at me.” Hermione said, gently slapping his face. That didn’t feel good at all.

“Don’t…hurts.” he mumbled, and slapped weakly at her hand. The hand was immediately gone from his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry Harry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” She whispered. This time she tenderly ran her thumb down his cheek. That wasn’t so bad.

Ron suddenly appeared in his line of sight. “What happened, Harry? You just disappeared and no one could find you. Somebody found your robe out by the lake and all hell broke loose.” he said quickly. He heard a slap and then Ron groaned. “Hermione!” he hissed.

Harry groaned. “I don’t…hmm.” He had to pause to think. His thoughts were all jumbled. “Dillard, yeah…Dillard.” he said tiredly. He curled up against Hermione, shivering violently. He felt someone wrap him up in their cloak.

“Come on, Harry, let’s get you inside. Where did Flitwick go?” asked Fred.

“To tell the others.” replied George.

Harry was hauled to his feet, supported by both Fred and Ron. “You alright, mate?” asked Ron when he’d started to slide back to the ground.

“Sure.” Harry mindlessly replied. He was sliding again. He wanted to sleep.

“I don’t think so, mate.”

There was yelling in the distance. Was that Severus’ voice? He looked up into dark concerned eyes. It was. Sirius, Remus, Professor McGonagall, and Moony were all crowding around him. He thought he’d seen Tonks as well but couldn’t pull forth enough effort to look for the pink hair again. They were bombarding him with questions. Are you alright, Potter? Who took you? Was it You-Know-Who? How did you escape? It became too much. He wanted his father. The mere thought brought Dillard’s words crashing back to haunt him. ‘I had a son…You’re adoptive father killed him.’ Harry cringed. He wouldn’t think about it now. He’d do that later. It was probably a lie anyways. He wanted his father.

“Dad?” he asked, unthinkingly. Someone growled. Severus was instantly beside him. Harry pulled loose from the twins and nearly fell straight to the ground. He needn’t have worried though, as strong arms caught him around the waist and he was pulled against a warm chest. He clung with all the strength left in him. “Go…sleep.” he managed to get out. He gasped when he was suddenly lifted from his feet. He was about to protest but fell asleep instead.

………………………..

When next he woke, he was in the Infirmary. He knew this place anywhere. He was in it often enough. His bed had been curtained off, but it wasn’t hard to notice all the people on the other side. There was a chair placed beside his bed. No one was in it, but from the looks of the cushion, someone had just left. Feeling disappointed that no one had been with him when he’d woken, he decided he’d just fall back asleep. He was tired enough, so he could do it. Just as his eyes had drifted shut and sleep was beckoning once again, the curtain pulled back and he heard someone sit down in the recently deserted chair. Startled, his eyes snapped open and he fixed them on the man sitting there.

“Severus.” he said. Conscious thought made him think before he spoke. Otherwise, he would have referred to him as his dad again. He noted, a bit concernedly, that Snape didn’t look well at all. He had bags under his eyes, his face seemed tight with emotion, and his eyes were dull. It reminded him of the way his Aunt Petunia had looked when she’d been told of her best friend’s death a few years before. She’d been killed in a plane crash and his Aunt had taken the news badly. He’d wondered at the time how she’d reacted to her own sister’s death. He didn’t think about it for long.

“How are you doing?” he asked, pulling his chair closer.

Harry shrugged and tiredly sat up against the headboard. “Fine.” he answered.

Severus raised a brow. “I hardly believe that, child. Really, how are you feeling? Do you hurt anywhere? I can get Pomfrey to get you another healing drought, if you need it.” he suggested, watching Harry like a hawk, presumably to see if he was hiding any unknown pain.

Harry moved around a bit. Nothing hurt unbearably. His face still felt sore but otherwise he felt fine. He told Snape as much.

“Very well. If anything changes, don’t hesitate to ask.” he said sternly.

“I’ll let you know if I need one.” He replied seriously.

“Good.” He paused. “Your friend Weasley said you mentioned Professor Dillard before you succumbed to your exhaustion. Would you care to elaborate on that now?” he asked carefully.

The carefully drawled name sent shivers down his spine. He sat up straight. “What time is it?” he asked.

Severus was eyeing him worriedly. “It’s ten o’clock, Harry. Why?” he asked.

It was ten now. He’d probably gotten back to Hogwarts this morning around five o’clock, considering the sun hadn’t even risen yet. But, Dillard, he’d been dead, hadn’t he? And he’d forgotten about it. He hadn’t even said so much as a word to anyone when they’d surrounded him. Although, he knew that was the farthest thing from his mind at the time, nothing had been on his mind really. Harry slowly locked his eyes with his father’s.

“I think I killed him.” he began. Seeing the startled look appear on his father’s face, he clarified. “Dillard, I mean. It was self-defense, I swear. I didn’t mean to do it.” He insisted, his voice growing more intense as he’d spoken. The curtain was pulled aside and he flinched at the people assembled there. Most of the Order of the Phoenix was congregated by Pomfrey’s office. It looked like most of the Weasley’s had come as well, minus Percy. Hermione now stood with Ron at the base of his bed. They’d all just heard him, he knew. Would they think less of him now? Was he good for nothing except getting people killed?

“What happened, Harry?” asked Dumbledore. Harry flinched. He hadn’t seen the headmaster among the throng of people standing beyond the curtain. Harry instinctively drew his legs up against his chest, wrapped his arms around his body and huddled deeper into the blankets.

“When I was kidnapped, or afterwards?” he asked, deliberately attempting to post-pone this conversation.

Dumbledore lowered his head and gazed at Harry through half-moon glasses. “Why not start from the beginning?” he asked.

Harry sighed. So much for stalling. “Okay. I was sitting out by the lake when Dillard attacked me.” he began. He told them about walking through the Forbidden Forest to stay out of sight, at which point Moody went off on a tangent about constant vigilance. Molly Weasley shushed him, whispering furiously in his ear. Harry smiled a bit when Mad-Eye Moody actually looked properly chastised. “We were attacked by a dark creature that looked almost like a werewolf.” He told them, looking at Remus questioningly at his words.

Remus shook his head. “It couldn’t have been, Harry. Full moon’s not for another two weeks.” he said.

Harry nodded. “I knew that and all, but it looked so much like a werewolf. It bit Dillard on the arm. Then it went to attack me.” He paused for a moment, a memory coming through. Zane. “My dog, Zane, just appeared suddenly. He jumped the werewolf and I tried to escape, but Dillard caught me again.” He explained quickly. “But Zane, I think he got hurt. I think I saw him when Dillard was taking me away. Is he okay?” he asked worriedly.

Sirius was quick to reassure him. “He’s fine Harry. Hagrid found him while we were searching for you. He’s taking great care of him.”

Harry sighed, sinking back against his pillows as the worry left him. “Good.” he murmured. Wanting to just be done with this conversation, he told them in as few words as possible what happened after he was taken off Hogwarts grounds. He told them about where he thought Dillard had taken him, the Jumbling Tower. None of the Order members had ever heard of it. When he talked about Dillard trying to smother him with a pillow, however, he thought the entire room would explode.

”What?” bellowed Sirius.

Harry cringed. He knew it had been stupid to fall asleep in the midst of his kidnapping. How dense could he be to do something so dumb? Thinking his godfather was furious at him for letting down his guard at such an inopportune moment, he tried to explain himself.

“I know, I didn’t meant to just fall asleep like that.” he began. “I hadn’t intended on letting my guard down, but I was so tired, and I just fell asleep. I didn’t even realize he had come into the room, which was stupid of me. But, he was suddenly there and with the pillow…” he babbled.

Sirius interrupted him. “That’s not what I meant, Harry.” he said, confusing the boy. Severus was glaring at his godfather.

“What?” he asked, pulling the covers tighter around himself. He still was chilled and couldn’t seem to regain any warmth. Sleepiness was creeping back in as well. He could do with a good long sleep.

“I’m more concerned that he tried to smother you with a pillow.” he said calmly, but his voice betrayed his anger.

“Oh, well…” Harry wondered how he’d take to knowing he was smothered twice. There was only one way to find out, he figured. He continued with his story and was even able to tell about the second smothering without being interrupted. It was his wandless magic that got a reaction.

“Whoa. You threw him across the room?” said Ron, clearly happy the man had met such a sticky end. Harry could also see some envy in his eyes. He hoped Ron wouldn’t get jealous about this. It was just wandless magic. Harry could do the same thing with a wand, too, only not as powerful.

“Yeah, but I didn’t do it on purpose.” he stated. “It just happened, and I think he’s dead. There was a lot of blood.” he murmured queasily. Hermione looked to be a bit sick to her stomach as well.

“It’s alright, Harry. We know you didn’t do it on purpose.” said Remus. Harry had almost forgotten he was there.

“It was self-defense. There’s no mistake about it.” said Moody, his magical eye lolling. Harry turned away.

Madame Pomfrey came strolling up about that time and ordered Harry to lie down. She gave him numerous potions to drink. He gratefully drank the one that indicated pain relief on the label. Sinking down into bed, Harry watched lazily as the headmaster and the other Order members stood conversing at the door. They were going to go search for this infamous Jumbling Tower to retrieve David Dillard’s body. Before they left, Harry told them that the Knight Bus conductors would probably know, since they’d picked him up around there. They soon left, Sirius and Remus with them. Harry was beginning to wonder if maybe they thought Dillard could still be alive. It didn’t necessarily take that much manpower to find a dead body, he thought.

Mrs. Weasley hugged him gently. “Keep in touch with me, dear.” she told him. “We’ve got to get back home, but I’ll come and visit again when I get the chance. Get lots of rest and don’t exert yourself.” She instructed him motherly. Harry smiled at her.

“I promise.” he whispered, his voice starting to fade even with all the potions Madame Pomfrey had made him take. He felt a lot better now that the cold symptoms weren’t making him feel miserable. He was still exhausted, however.

He waved weakly at the Weasley’s as they all filed out of the Hospital Wing. Ron and Hermione were reluctant to leave. They wanted to stay with him, but Pomfrey wouldn’t allow it. Grudgingly, they left as well, promising to be back first thing tomorrow morning.

Severus was the only one who remained. He tucked Harry into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. “I’ll let you sleep now, Harry. If you need me for any reason, just tell Pomfrey and I’ll be right back up.” he said. Severus wanted to stay, he could tell, but probably didn’t think Harry would allow it. Usually, Harry wouldn’t want anyone to hover around him; he wasn’t a child, after all. But after tonight’s events, he desperately wanted someone to stay with him.

“Would you…mind staying?” he asked quietly. Severus immediately stopped before the doors. He looked back at Harry and smiled.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” he stated, and after transfiguring the uncomfortable chair into a cozy armchair, sat down beside Harry’s bed. Harry closed his eyes. A moment later he felt his father running his fingers through his hair. It felt nice. Harry fell asleep feeling safer than he’d felt in a long, long time.