Wondering if he could perhaps slide back into the cave and seal the tunnel entrance to protect himself, he slid back in and used his wand to cause a small cave in. It didn't take long however to see that this wasn't the best plan, as the animal could be heard digging through the snow. "Glacies, glacies, glacies," Harry repeated in a hurry, stabbing his wand into the snow and turning the cave walls to thick ice not a moment too soon as light filtered in to his cave as the animal broke the snow surface. It continued to scratch for another five minutes before it decided that Harry wasn't worth the effort and moved off. Harry let out a sigh of relief and began melting some of the cave walls again. He also made a small vent to the surface for air, though he didn't dare make it wide enough for the animal to get through.

With the cave finally big enough to sit up in, Harry heated his rock for warmth again and considered his options. He had obviously apparated himself to some distant location... hopefully no farther than the mountains around Hogwarts. He had no food, snow for water, a wand, and no warm clothing... plus the danger of hungry wild animals possibly waiting nearby to devour him. He sighed as he added his injured hand and burnt back to the list when he felt dizzy again. If he had only gone to detention... surely that would have been better than this?

Trying to remember a spell that Hermione had once taught him to give him a basic location, Harry tried a few incantations before his wand leapt from his hand and began drawing a map in the snow on the cave floor. The lines of the map glowed as the wand continued it's way as far as the cave wall, and then dropped, lifeless once again.

"I guess the x is me," he said, using his finger to trace the landmarks. There were little triangles he assumed were mountains all around him, two rivers, and... was that a lake with a big building beside it way over on the edge near the wall? It was, and Harry hoped that was Hogwarts, although he had no idea of distance since the wand hadn't drawn a scale. "Great," he sighed. "Bloody great time to accidentally learn to apparate," he said.

He briefly considered the possibility of trying to apparate again, but knew the chances weren't likely and that he might splinch himself, or end up farther away, or even end up in the hands of death eaters. He'd leave apparating for plan B... or maybe C. D? Wasn't there a spell that Seamus had taught him? Something to alert others to your presence? Hm. He began encanting again, trying to ignore his empty stomach and the fact that he really had to pee. If this didn't work, then he'd be venturing outside for food... maybe he could eat that snow cat with the flaming tail...

* * *

"I'm sorry Severus. There were signs of a scuffle, but there were not even any footprints leading away from the scene. It is obvious to me now that we have searched that several death eaters have made camp in the Forest, waiting for an opportune moment."

Sorry? What the hell did the old man care? He sure as hell didn't care when Lily took Harry from him, so why was he saying sorry now? Perhaps its because you're pacing back and forth in front of his desk like a frantic madman you blundering idiot, he reminded himself, and then stopped pacing. He sighed, and began to rub his temples again. He was still getting nothing from the boy, but there were brief sensations every now and again... fear, hunger, and the feeling as if he were trapped in a closet.

"I know that he is alive," Severus said then, and Dumbledore raised his brows.

"Oh?"

Not sure if he wished to reveal his connection, he said slowly, "There is... a link, between the boy and I. Occasionally I get flashes of an emotion, or even an image. I do not know where he is at present except that he is in a small, cramped space, possibly hiding."

"Is he nearby?"

"He is not close enough to be on the grounds or in the forest, but he is not as far away as his relatives."

Watching him closely for signs of deception, Albus steepled his fingers and asked, "And how long have you had this connection?"

"Since he was a small child."

"Generally I can pick up vague emotions if they are very strong... never before have I received images until now."

It was Dumbledore's turn to sigh. "Would I be correct in assuming you ignore the connection for the better part, and never reach out to him with your own mind?"

"Yes."

"And you are reaching out now?"

"Yes."

"I will leave it up to you to find him then Severus. I am going to venture a guess, albeit I could very well be wrong... it is a possibility with all that has been going on that he does not want to come back." He looked up to see if his Potion's Master reacted. He did, with a brief look of shock, before he schooled his face to neutrality again.

"Therefore I suggest that you go through his things to get an idea as to where he might have gone."

"I do not think-"

Dumbledore cut him off. "Whether you care to admit it or not, you are his next of kin, and it is your responsibility to go through his things and find him, especially in light of your connection." The older man's eyes told Severus that there was no room for discussion, and he turned on his heel and left, robes not swishing and billowing as he usually preferred them to.

* * *

Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee. Harry used his wand to make an entrance to the snow cave once again, and shivered as he climbed outside, wand at the ready to fend off whatever hungry creatures were lurking. The only hungry creature in the area however was himself. He took twenty steps out into the white world, blinded by the bright daylight reflecting off of every snowy surface, did his business, and went back to the entrance to his cave.

Ripping another strip off of his cloak, he did his best to turn it bright red, and transfigure into a flag on a stick, which he stuck in the snow at the entrance so he could find his warm shelter again. "I hate the cold," he muttered, body aching as he headed off into the trees, hoping to find berries or at the very least branches and other things he could transform. Thank goodness Hermione had taken over the last three weeks of the DA in order to teach them helpful transfiguration spells they might need in a defense situation.

When he could no longer stand the cold after a half hour of gathering supplies, he headed back to his cave, leaving the red flag outside, and climbed back in, once again sealing the entrance.

A bundle of sticks, a handful of red berries he wasn't sure were edible, some pine needles, three pinecones, and two more baseball sized rocks. Harry sighed and set to work heating the two rocks, munching on the bitter berries, and turning everything else into a single object which he hoped to make into a coat or blanket... if only he could remember the spell.

* * *

Light filtered weakly into the well lived in fifth year Gryffindor boy's dormitory. Severus stuck his head in the door to check that no one was home before he made his way in, somehow feeling he was entering the home of a long fought enemy. This was the den of lions... had James Potter and the other marauders slept in this same room? He shuddered and scanned the beds to find... his son's.

On the very end next to the door and window Severus found a tattered old trunk with Harry's name on it in faded letters. The name Potter was scratched off and he was surprised to find in Black pen the name Snape over the top of it. Harry Severus Snape. He had not thought on that name for so long.

Opening the trunk and feeling as though he were invading someone's privacy, which he was he reminded himself, he noted that Harry's living area was considerably cleaner than the other occupants of the room. Inside the trunk were stacks of old school books, parchment and ink, quills, owl treats, and about ten pairs of holy gray socks. Why on earth would he keep those?

Deciding that there was nothing in the trunk that would give any indication to Harry's whereabouts, Severus moved on to the wardrobe, and was surprised to find five tattered, faded shirts, a few pairs of pants, and two pristine sets of used Hogwarts robes with Gryffindor ties. Harry's broom also stood in the wardrobe, and Severus thought hard over the last Quidditch Match. It had nearly killed him not to run down to the field to see if Harry lived as he lay there in the mud, especially with the hurt that played across their link, but he could not bring himself to do it. Harry wasn't his responsibility anymore. Harry wasn't his anymore.

He closed the wardrobe, trying to ignore the red Quidditch uniform that still bare the name Snape across the back, where the name Potter had always been before. He didn't even want to contemplate his feelings on that change.

On top of the boy's desk was a stack of new parchment, an inkwell and several quills. He opened the long top drawer, and found inside a variety of other school supplies, and... a tattered leather journal. He brushed his fingers over the top of it just as the door opened, and took a step back, feeling guilty once again for being there.

He looked over to find the Weasley boy in the doorway, staring at him in surprise.

"I have been charged to look through Potter's things to determine where he might have gone," Severus threw out, feeling the need to explain himself and hating that he had obeyed it.

Ron still didn't say anything. Severus reached down and picked up the journal, which he held out to the red headed boy. "Read this and tell me if you find anything that may lead to where he has gone."

Glaring now, Ron spat, "Read it your own damn self. It's about you," and then slammed the door, leaving him in the empty room with Harry's things again.

Severus looked down at the journal. He was sorely tempted to read it, but feared what he would find, and knew that reading through someone's journal was the ultimate act of privacy invasion. Gently, as if it were a beloved item, he lay it back in the top drawer and closed it. He would never know.

None of the other drawers held anything of interest, and Severus hoped that the journal did not hold the one key piece of information to the boy's whereabouts as he left the room as he had found it. The only difference now was, that the image of the room was burned into his mind, and he could not vanish it no matter what he tried.

* * *

Harry dreamt of his soft bed at Hogwarts, and of his journal, which he missed being able to write in. ‘Dad, I'm stuck here in the mountains and you probably don't even care. At least when I die out here from starvation you won't have to worry about your other son and his popularity anymore, will you?' That is what Harry would have written. He tried to feel bitter over it, but was too exhausted to do it.

The berries had made him feel sick and he thought that his hand might be infected because he felt uncomfortably hot as he lay under his transfigured rag blanket. As he drifted in and out of strange dreams of his room and other images at Hogwarts, including the Headmaster's office and Ron shouting at someone in their room, Harry felt more hopeless than ever. He was going to die out here, buried in a snow cave where no one would find him until the spring thaw... if they were even still looking at that point, and he knew they wouldn't be.

* * *

Mountains, snow, cougars with a flaming tail, red berries. These were all images that flew into his mind throughout the day in a disorienting way. He wondered perhaps if the boy was sick because of the way the images blurred together and made no sense whatsoever.

It wasn't until lunch when he began piecing things together for himself. Poisonous red berries, the white leopardardis species, and snow... these were all things in the mountains he could see out the windows of the Great Hall in the distance. Standing so fast that he knocked his chair over, Severus hurried out of the Great Hall, ignoring the worried look he received from Kenai and a few others, and headed into the Forbidden Forest, where the nearest school boundary lay. Thinking of the images he had seen from Harry's mind, he closed his eyes, and disappeared, hoping to God that he would end up somewhere in the vicinity of his lost son. What met him was a white landscape, and what was sure to be an impossibly search.

* * *

"I like Quuuiditch, its a lot of fun, I think I'll go to the beach and zoom ‘round the sun. I like Quuuiditch..." Harry sang a strange song off key in the haze of his fever, and held his arms straight above him as if he were flying through the open air. His back burned from laying on it, and his hand throbbed, but he was no longer paying attention as his fantasy had overtaken him.

"Quidditch flying like a bird, I caught the snitchy snitchy bird, all red and gold. There's a lion flying after me, snitchy snitchy bird." He laughed at the images floating through his mind and reached out to grab an imaginary red and gold snitch with a head and tail to match its wings, confused when he brought the bird in to have a closer look, only to find that it was a handful of cold snow. "Huh?"

Harry coughed violently then and groaned with the pain of rising and then landing on his burnt back several times. This was only made worse by the blinding light that was flooding his vision now. Damn, but why did the lion have to burn so bright just because the bird had exploded to cold dust?

"It's magic," Harry pleaded with the lion, whose shadow had now fallen over him to shield him from the bright light. "I didn't mean to kill the snitchy bird, honest."

"Harry."

"I mean really, I just grabbed it and it ‘sploded lion, you don't have to be mad about it."

"Harry, look at me."

Harry glared at the shadow, but could not make out any features, and was confused when warm, non-hairy hands reached down to lift him out of his cave.

"No lion, don't feed me to the snow beast. I know he's hungry, but he can have some of the red berries."

"Did you eat the red berries Harry?"

"Only a handful, honest, you can have them back."

More confused than ever, Harry snuggled into the warmth of the lion and passed out, unaware that his father had finally come to rescue him, after all these years.

"I'll get you back to the castle. Don't worry... son."