How did muggles cope!? He could remember vaguely Arthur rambling on about something or other to do with ‘taking the boys camping' at the beginning of the previous year - how well that little ‘adventure' turned out - but how was it even possible to live without magic?

Not of high possibility it would seem as a mere few weeks had passed and so far the duo had been attacked about four times, taken prisoner and locked up, gotten lost in some kind of forest or woodland somewhere they didn't know where! Starved, half drowned, chilled to the bone and were generally half-dead!

Never! Never again would Severus Snape leave the wizarding world without an armada's worth of potions and magical artefacts in his robe pockets!

The journey to . . . ‘somewhere' was a silent one as Harry still hadn't completely recovered his vocal capacity and Severus himself was feeling his throat become rougher and tighter with the dry, summer air. It was obvious that the two would have some sort of a cold to fight off when they got back but that was the least of their worries. Death Eaters were a far greater threat than the sniffles and could not be fended off with a simple Pepper-Up potion.

As such the Potions Master pressed on despite their poor condition. Hopefully this ‘civilization' that Harry had sensed was not much further away. It was doubtful that either of them would last more than a day longer.

If they ran into anymore trouble with the Death Eaters or Muggles they wouldn't last at all.

----ad----

"Albus! Over here Albus!"

The Headmaster wasted no time in reaching the side of the ragged old wizard. He pointed to what he had found on the forest floor and gave Dumbledore a knowing look.

"Gross!" complained the pink haired witch as she joined them out of curiosity.

The Headmaster on the other hand raised his head with a triumphant glint in his eyes.

"We must hurry. This way."

----ss----

Night fell and the two were really struggling with their steps. The Professor's head was pounding so much that he felt that his eyes would be forced out of his scull while the boy was sickeningly pale and looked to be falling asleep on his feet.

He was about to motion to the boy that they should stop and rest for a while before Harry's head raised and he gazed unfocusedly into the distance.

"What is it?" the Professor tried to ask, but found that his throat was too sore and raw to speak as clearly as he had intended to.

Harry did not speak and could not point. He simple looked over to the Professor to show that he had acknowledged him and then stared again in the same direction.

The Potions Master took the hint that he was supposed to follow his gaze. He could see nothing himself so turned again to the boy.

"Can you sense any danger in that direction?"

Harry shook his head in the negative.

The Professor nodded his own head in understanding. That was the direction that they were next to travel.

Sure enough after walking for a while longer the Professor could hear some familiar sounds becoming clearer and clearer.

Being a solitary man he found it an odd feeling being ‘glad' and . . . excited? to hear the sounds of society so close by. He even felt his lungs exhale in a sigh of relief as his mind distinguished the sounds and what they meant.

They were saved!

----???----

"What do you mean ‘lost'!?"

"T-there is no response f-from t-the Satellite tracking system S-sir . . ."

"Then find another way of tracking it down!"

----ss-hp----

A pale hand pulled back the stray tree branch that was blocking his view. There it was, the small town . . . Village by the looks of it. The sun had set over an hour ago but warm lights and the sounds of shouts and laughter offered life to the rural area.

Again the Professor sighed. If he did not feel so ill and worn down this may even have been one of those ultimately rare occasions when he smiled, then again, if he didn't feel so ill and worn out he might not have been as happy to see the jovial little village.

He turned around to call Harry to his side as they made their was towards it and also to remind him to stay cautious as they were not safe yet, but as he turned the boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Potter?" he rasped, heart leaping into his throat.

The only answer was the shuffle of bushes a short distance away.

Cautiously the Professor walked over to the thick layer of foliage and gingerly lowered himself to the ground, fighting back the compelling urge just to strangle the brat and save himself the trouble.

"What's wrong?" he asked, failing to hide any of the impatience in his cold-ridden voice. It was indeed possible that the boy had simply sensed some kind of danger ahead he reminded himself.

The look Harry gave him however told him otherwise. The fear in the boy's eyes was, regrettably, something that he could understand. The boy was afraid to go anywhere near were ‘people' could be found. And who would blame him?

Normally The Potions Master would have resorted to ‘tough love' as Albus liked to call it - bloody stupid name if you asked him! ‘Common sense' was more like it. In order to go on living the boy would have to face his fears directly and find a way to tackle them.

He wasn't stupid however. Being afraid of the dark and being afraid of human contact after being locked up, beaten, experimented on and turned into a wild monster were two very different things. The boy would have to face his fears eventually but he would first need time to recover and build up his courage to do so. He would need to start small.

This introduced another problem however.

"We cannot sit here forever Potter," stated Snape as calmly as he could. "And I have no intention of leaving you here alone."

Slowly and timidly the boy looked up again, the fear in his eyes still shining through.

"You have found the courage to face the world again before," the Professor continued and Harry's eyes widened at the accurate assumption.

It was something that the Professor had run through his mind a number of times now. It was impossible that the Muggles had done what they had to the boy in the short amount of time they had had between stealing from Spinners End and the failed rescue attempt from the Order. Harry had been through this before.

And yet . . . And yet the boy still came to school. Year after year he attended Hogwarts and showed hardly any signs of an anti-social streak or a fear of his peers.

Severus could only assume that he the boy was far stronger than he had given him credit for or that the experience was so traumatic that he had simply shut it all from his mind and tried to ignore it until the memories became buried and forgotten.

Maybe it was a bit of both?

"I will give you some time to collect yourself but I must stress that the longer we remain here the more danger we are in. Our enemies are still searching for us and our only method of getting to safety lies within that village."

Harry nodded quietly and shivered, still holding his arm close to his body. He was cold and hungry and he didn't feel well at all. His head was swimming and his stomach felt like it was on fire.

Snape didn't look all that good either, he thought to himself. In fact, the man didn't sound too well himself. His voice for one was coarse and scratchy, a far cry from the silky deep voice that his students had grown to know and fear. He looked far more pale and drained than usual too and although he had attempted to hide it from the boy Harry knew that he had been sick more than a couple of times since they had started travelling together.

His mind was still hazy and the slightest noise or movement had him on edge but slowly he could feel it focusing and becoming more . . . human.

His hearing had remained sharp and despite everything Harry found that he was vaguely grateful for that. At least it was useful.

He had smelt the village while he was still in his ‘beast form' and directed Snape towards it. He did not know why. It was just that, well, he sort of, ‘trusted' the man. Wanted to do well for him. That was odd. Trust Snape?? Was he really losing his mind? Yet as a beast he had no real knowledge of the wizard before him or any real memory of who he was. All he could understand at that time was that the man was familiar and that he wanted to help and not harm him. Like some kind of ‘pack member' or something.

Harry shuddered. His head hurt far too much to think about this right now. Snape had been easier to get on with over the past few days but that was hardly enough to make them a ‘family' now!

Returning to the inhabited world however. He couldn't explain why but the thought alone terrified him! Okay he was afraid of running into the men from the Environment again but none of them were in the village. He knew that, he was the one who sensed life here. That feeling though . . . it was unshakable. What was to say that other people wouldn't hurt him? What if someone recognised him and turned him over to-?

No. He tried to shake his head but stopped when it hurt too much. He was being silly. Nothing would happen! Nothing at all! It was far worse to sit here in a forest and wait for Death Eaters to appear and take both him and Snape off to be tortured and killed! He knew that! Yet-

"Mr Potter we really should-!"

The Professor was cut off mid-sentence. He twisted his head around and lowered himself towards the ground motioning that Harry should do the same.

He cursed silently to himself as the hem of a black cloak came into view through the branches and pressed himself even lower to the ground. There was no means of defending themselves and Harry had not the strength of the Chimera to help them this time.

They had been close, so close! And now all they could do was pray.

It didn't help that his nose was running and that his throat had gone completely dry and was preparing itself for another coughing fit. A quick glance towards the boy suggested that he was suffering the same. He cursed again.

On instinct the Potions Master reached for his wand and felt a cold sweat wash through him as he realised that it was gone. He doubted that he had enough energy to cast even a simple spell but at least it could have given him something to use in the way of posing his own threat.

Just as the thought had entered his head the tip of something came to rest within inches of his line of sight. Slowly he looked up and gaped at what he saw.

"I believe you may have dropped this," spoke the gentle voice. "Are you alright, Severus?"

Was he not such a reserved person the Potions Master could have broken down there and then. Instead he raised a shaky hand and grasped the handle of the familiar, black ebony wand that hung before him.

"Headmaster . . ." he rasped but stopped when Dumbledore came to kneel beside Harry and himself.

"I think that it is time that we took you two home," he said gently.