Harry Potter stormed down the corridor. He couldn’t think of many times when he was angrier. Detention? On his first full day back? For helping out a first year? It wasn’t his fault that Draco had cornered a first year Ravenclaw in the girl’s toilet! How was he supposed to help him if he couldn’t go into Moaning Myrtl’s bathroom and perform the counter for a binding curse? Stupid! That’s all it was… just plain stupid! If he never saw Professor McGonagall again, it would be ok with him, he told himself… even if it meant they had to have Snape as their new head of house.

Collin Creevy passed by Harry in the hall, his camera at the ready, but Harry held up a hand before he could even ask, as he passed him.

“Don’t even think about it Collin!” Harry told him, more harshly than he would have otherwise.

Collin looked hurt, but stayed where he was nevertheless, and didn’t follow.

Harry didn’t even slow his pace to say hello to Cho as he passed her a floor down, near the Charms corridor. The last thing he needed was for an ex-girlfriend to try and talk to him when he was angry like that. Harry was wrong though, as he found out a few minutes later when he was still raging, down another corridor.

Harry’s eyes had been on the ground, and he hadn’t seen the Potions Master standing in front of him, talking to a young Slytherin. Harry bumped into him, which would have been bad enough on any other day to get him points taken away. But on a day like today, when Snape happened to be chastising one of his own students, and was already angry…

“Potter!”

Harry let out an angry sigh as he stopped dead, and frowned up at the ceiling.

“Watch where you’re going Potter!” Snape shouted at him, not bothering to lower his voice into that deadly chilling tone he usually managed.

Harry didn’t respond, and thinking that was all that was coming to him, he continued walking on, ranting silently to himself about house favorites and McGonagall.

“Potter!” Snape shouted down the corridor after him again, “Come back here!”

Harry stopped yet again. He knew he should have stopped and apologized for bumping into him, no matter how much it pained him to do so, and now, he knew another detention was coming to him.

This time Harry turned in time to see Snape give his other student one last look of anger, and heard him murmur something about, dealing with her later, but Harry couldn’t care in the least. What did Snape care if Harry had four essays to complete by the next day? He didn’t, Harry reminded himself as Snape strode forward, his cloak sweeping the ground after his menacing stride.

“Potter! My office! Now!” he said through gritted teeth as he strode past him.

For a fleeting second, Harry thought of simply waiting until he had gone around the bend in the corridor, and slipping down a secret passageway he knew to be hidden nearby, but instead followed his better judgment and followed the angry Professor.

They had only gone down two more flights of stairs, when Harry slowed to a stop. It didn’t take long for Snape to figure out that Harry wasn’t behind him any more though, and he was back up the hall in a flash.

“How many detentions do you want Potter?” he threatened angrily.

Harry didn’t answer him though. In fact, it took the sound of the Professor’s angry voice a few seconds to reach his ears.

Harry blinked a few times, and things began to swim before him. His anger suddenly draining away, and instead fading into slight uncertainty, he staggered sideways into a wall. It’s cold, rough surface met his fingers, and he was glad to find that the wall wasn’t moving, because everything else around him seemed to be.

Four feet away, Snape watched as the sixth year shook his head a little, as if to clear his vision, and fell into the wall to his left.

“Potter?” he asked, a little quieter now, though not completely sure this wasn’t some sort of dodge to get out of being in trouble… he certainly wouldn’t put it past him to pull that sort of thing.

Harry blinked again, and his vision cleared as he looked up at Professor Snape.

“What is it Potter?” he asked slowly, clearly seeing that it wasn’t the escape attempt he previously thought it to be.

Harry shook his head as he stood a little straighter. “You didn’t feel that?” he asked him, confused.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy. “No,” he told him quickly. “What happened?”

Harry wasn’t sure he could answer that, even if he wanted to. How did you explain that the floor and ceiling had gotten soft and mushy, and you didn’t think you could stand on them any longer for fear you’d melt into them? It would have been hard, and instead, Harry decided to forget about it. Even as he had told that to himself, it sounded stupid, and unreal.

He shook his head again, and steadied himself. The floor remained solid, and he took a step forward. Snape still had his eyes narrowed at him, but thinking, that perhaps it had been a dodge after all, he continued forward, but more slowly this time, so as not to lose the trailing Gryffindor.

They had only made it a few more steps however, before both Snape and Harry stopped. Harry looked down at the floor, which seemed like an ocean of grey stone, all melting into each other. Thankful that his vision hadn’t gone blurry this time, and that he was able to remain standing, he looked up to see if his Professor was seeing the same thing he was. Snape had turned around, and judging by the perplexed look on his face, he was.

“What the-” he had started, but next second, a sudden lightness filled Harry’s stomach, and he melted right down through the floor, the Professor’s words trailing behind him.

Down, down, down. Darkness engulfed him, and he could see nothing around him. Was he falling through the castle? With a brief thought to his sanity, Harry thought he should at least be catching glimpses of classrooms and furniture and other people if he were falling through the school. But there was none of that; only darkness.

He tried to shout, but something was stifling his screams. He tried to breath, but something was pressing in all around him through the darkness, and he couldn’t take in any air. He wondered if he would drown in this waterless abyss, and knew no more.

His body ached all over. He didn’t even want to try to move. In fact, if something hadn’t been calling to him from someplace far off in the distance, he might have been content to lay there on his back, assuming every bone in his body had been broken. But someone was calling him, and as a shadow loomed overhead in the blazing light, it came closer.

“Potter? Potter!” Harry’s eyes snapped open, and he immediately closed them again against the brightness.

“What?” he groaned.

Snape sighed and sat back. For some reason unbeknownst to him, he was overcome with relief that the kid wasn’t as dead as he thought he was.

Harry tried to lift his arm up to shield his eyes better from the brightness, but all his limbs felt too much like dead weight to do so.

“Turn off the light,” he said, almost unaware of saying it.

“You try it Potter,” Snape growled at him, then realizing that he probably thought he was in the hospital wing.

Harry opened his eyes again now, and looked up into the bright blue sky. Before he could stop himself, he asked, “How did we get outside?”

Snape didn’t answer, causing Harry to look over and see if he was still there. He was, looking out at their surroundings.

Harry lifted his head, his stiff neck protesting at the movement. “What?” Harry asked, as he too took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

The Professor looked back over at him now, and got to his feet, wand out and ready. Harry watched him, but didn’t feel so motivated to move, and let his head fall back to the ground.

“Are you able to stand?” Snape asked, half concerned, half annoyed.

“I don’t want to try,” he told him. The anger that had radiated from him five minutes before, was gone now. Instead, Harry’s every thought was focused on his aching, damaged body.

Perhaps this is all a bad dream, he thought to himself. Maybe I was just playing Quidditch, and I caught the Snitch and fell… yes, that must have been it. He had been playing Quidditch. But as he painfully clenched his hands into fists, he felt no tiny struggling golden ball with wings, and knew he had been wrong.

“What happened?” Harry asked, opening his eyes again and tilting his head up to look at the world upside down from the grass. He had only then realized he was on grass… all the hills around them seemed to be covered in grass. Why?

“Get up Potter,” Snape ordered him, a little annoyed.

Harry half thought of telling him what he could do with his order, as they were clearly not on castle grounds any more, but didn’t. Instead, he rolled over onto his side, (with another groan), and onto his stomach, before pushing himself gingerly up off the ground. Once he was standing, his legs told him they’d much rather prefer to sit, but he ignored them as he felt around for his own wand, and felt it in his robes.

The castle was indeed nowhere to be seen… not even off in the far distance atop a hill.

He turned in a slow circle, and said to himself, “Oh, this has to be a bad dream… it just has to.”

Snape looked over at him from the corner of his eye. “Gee Potter, why do you say that?” he asked sarcastically. He realized only after he’d said it that the comment was below him, but forgot about it easily.

“Because I’m stuck out here with-” Harry paused, re-thinking what he was about to say. He was already bruised and was sure he had broken ribs… he didn’t need to add a curse to his list of injuries.

“With me?” Snape asked. Had he not thought the situation so dire, he might have chuckled. “Believe me Potter, there are a dozen worse people I’d rather be stuck out here with than you.”

Harry frowned. He already knew that.

Deciding that there was no one else around, the Professor finally lowered his wand, and Harry did the same. His arms were too tired to hold it up any longer anyway.

“Any idea what that was?” Harry asked him, already knowing he probably had no answer.

Snape didn’t respond for a moment, but finally said, “No Potter, I don’t. I do find it quite curious though, that you were the first to feel the effects of that… magic,” he concluded, deciding there was no better term to use.

Harry didn’t want to believe his ears, and the anger once again came back to him. “You think I had something to do with this?” he asked him furiously, not in total disbelief. He was used to being blamed for everything… not only by people at school, like Snape, but by the Dursleys as well during the summer. Hadn’t it only been two nights ago that his uncle went off in a rage about furniture disappearing and Harry being responsible? And the day before that, Dudley cornering Harry without his wand, telling him to keep his mouth shut about the things he’d stolen from his parents?

Snape was watching him, his eyes narrowing, as Harry remembered something. “Had I accused you of something Potter, you would know about it… I only said that it was curious you knew something was amiss first.”

Harry frowned, doubtful what he was saying was true, but he was too tired, and hurting too much to argue about it.

He looked behind him, and found a big flat rock ten feet off. Slowly, he walked over to it, stumbling once on a smaller stone, and sat down on it’s hard, cold surface. He noticed the Professor watching him as he did so, but ignored him.

“Are you hurt Potter?” he asked him.

Harry rolled his eyes. “If I said I wished I’d gotten stuck out here with Madam Pomfrey, would that answer your question?”

It did. Before Harry knew what was happening in his slight daze, the Professor was at his side, (though not actually as quick as it appeared to Harry), and was kneeling there, wondering how badly he was hurt.

Harry looked up, and thought of saying something along the lines of, my Madam Pomfrey, how much you’ve changed, but didn’t. Right now he only cared about some kind of relief from his aching joints and ribs.

“Where are you hurt?” Snape asked him, a little annoyed at the tediousness of the task. He himself had suffered from the fall, but obviously not as bad as the boy.

Harry was watching him still, both wands still out. “Take your pick,” he said flatly.

Snape sighed and glared up at him. “If you expect me to help you, I suggest you start thinking more about respect than sarcastic remarks.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and said, “It’s not that bad. I can wait til’ we get back to the castle.”

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but there is no castle nearby, little lone the one we need to be in.”

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead in the tell tale sign that he knew the situation was bad.

“Is he near?” the Professor asked him, his voice becoming urgent.

“Who?” Harry opened his eyes to stare into his, but then, remembering that he usually rubbed his scar when it seared, and that that usually meant that Voldemort was near. He was only rubbing his forehead this time though, and lowered his hand. “No,” he told him. “Do you think this is Vol- his fault?”

Snape had narrowed his eyes halfway through Voldemort’s name, and Harry didn’t finish it. “There’s no telling Potter. It very well could be.” With this, he gave another cautious look around, and stood up.

“Do you want a stretcher?” Snape asked. Harry shook his head fervently. If he could walk, then he was going to.

Snape didn’t put his wand away though, and instead spelled out a charm to point them in the direction of the nearest town. Nothing happened though, and Snape looked down at his wand.

“Well?” Harry asked.

He remained frowning, thinking that perhaps he had not remembered the spell correctly. He tried again, and still, nothing happened.

“What’s supposed to happen?” Harry asked him, thinking maybe that the wind would start to blow in the direction they needed to go or something.

“My wand is supposed to hover and point in the direction of the nearest city or village.”

Harry leaned sideways a little to see if the wand was doing anything special, and saw that it wasn’t.

“Is it broken?” he asked him, thinking it would be fitting that only his wand worked, and Snape would have to do whatever he said.

The Professor shook his head, he didn’t know. “Give me your wand,” he told Harry forcefully, holding out his hand.

Harry frowned, and did nothing of the sort.

“Potter, your wand if you want to get out of here!” he chastised him.

Harry rolled his eyes, and held his wand out. Again the spell was incanted, and nothing happened. Wondering if both wands were broken, he tried a number of simpler spells with both wands, and still, nothing happened.

“Let me try,” Harry said now, curious. Just because they wouldn’t work for Snape, didn’t mean he had lost his touch too. But no matter what Harry tried, his wand remained as still and as uninteresting as an ordinary twig.

A lump was beginning to rise in Harry’s throat. If falling through a castle into an unknown place, perhaps even an unknown dimension or something wasn’t enough, they didn’t even have magic to get them out of the mess now.

“Ok, so what now?” Harry asked, more to himself than to the Potions Professor, whom he loathed, and who just happened to loathe him back.

Snape looked down at him, and then to a patch of trees off in the distance. “We take cover until we know what’s going on.”

Harry looked up at him, and then to the patch of trees as well. Surely he didn’t expect him to walk that distance? But it was apparent a moment later, that he did.

“Can’t you just apparate back to the castle and tell them what’s happened?” Harry asked him, angry that he couldn’t apparate yet himself, because they didn’t learn to do that until sixth year, which he had just started.

“I already tried.”

As they walked, Harry found himself doing two things: Reminding himself that Snape was probably his only way out of this mess so he wouldn’t kill him for his snide comments, and trying out his wand to see if it worked every few steps.

Snape would have very much liked to have told Harry to stop muttering the simple incantations and charms under his breath, as it was annoying, but didn’t, because it meant that he didn’t have to.

Finally Harry let out a deep sigh, and stowed the wand in a pocket of his jacket.

Snape watched him in his peripheral vision. “Keep that out Potter,” he warned. Harry didn’t listen, he was too tired to.

The Professor was about to tell him off for leaving himself vulnerable to attack that way, but before he could, Harry retrieved his wand again, but it stay at his side. Snape shook his head, at least it was something, he told himself.

They’d been walking an hour, but finally they made it to the trees they’d been headed for. Harry stopped just before they hit the tree line, and Snape wondered if he’d seen anything.

“Potter?” he asked suspiciously.

Harry tilted his head a little. “Do you smell that?” he asked.

The look on Snape’s face told him that obviously, he didn’t. Harry turned around, “Clean air, and it doesn’t smell salty.”

Snape waited for a further explanation of just how this was important, but it did not come, so he said with a deep sigh, “Why is this significant information?”

Harry thought this should have been overly obvious, but instead of saying so, said, “Clean air… we’re not near any towns, or at least not big ones, and no salt-”

“Not near any large bodies of salt water,” Snape finished for him.

Harry nodded.

“We’re inland,” Snape said more to himself than Harry.

“Isn’t the castle?” Harry asked him.

Snape nodded, “Inland doesn’t mean the same place Potter,” he sneered.

Harry’s shoulders slumped a little, and he looked around for another place to sit. Seeing only dirt, he decided that it was as good as anything, and sank down to the cold, hard earth, his back resting against a tree.

When he turned around again, and didn’t see Harry standing there, Snape looked down to the forest floor to see him trying out a few other spells.

“Damn it,” Harry said under his breath when nothing worked.

Snape smiled inwardly at his frustration. He would have used harsher words than that.

They stopped at the tree line to rest for twenty minutes, before Harry let out a deep sigh, and wondered again why he always seemed to get into this sort of trouble. Just then, Snape said from a few feet away, still leaning against the same tree he had been for fifteen minutes, “I will never understand how you always manage to get yourself into constant trouble Potter.” His eyes narrowed at him slightly as he said this, and Harry looked up, wondering if he’d read his mind.

Snape looked up and back around them though. “I don’t get myself into trouble,” Harry said under his breath, “everybody else does.” As he said it, he knew it wasn’t entirely true, but if McGonagall hadn’t given him detention, than he would have been on his way to lunch with everybody else that day, instead of running into Snape, and being lead down a corridor with a seeming portal to… well, to wherever they were.

Harry tried another spell, trying to levitate a fallen leaf in front of him, but it remained where it was, and Harry let the air of a sigh fill his cheeks. At least he had gotten out of a second detention with Snape, he told himself, barely seeing the upside, as he was now stuck with him there.