According to Snape what Evelyn did was apparate, but Harry really didn't care what it was called; all he knew was that he did not like it. His shaky legs combined with lack of food and water only made the world spin more, and Snape had ended up having to practically drag him through the thicket of trees and to the stone cottage in which Evelyn had entered. It was a quaint little place, and obviously had not been inhabited for a while. It was very small, but nice nonetheless. A wooden partition separated it into two rooms, the other presumably a bedroom. Shortly after Harry was dragged through the door Snape pushed him onto a wooden chair, which sat near a scrubbed wood table. There was a slight amount of dust on it. Snape collapsed into a seat too, facing the large fireplace where an empty pot was hung, and some unlit firewood beneath it. The cottage was dimly lit, but Harry didn't mind that so much. Evelyn had thrown open the wood shutters on the small, square window, allowing light to flood the area, dust shimmering in the beam of morning sun.

Evelyn turned from the window, took one look at the two of them panting around the table and frowned.

"Wait right here," she said before running outside and bringing in a large wooden washtub. She went over to the other side of the wooden partition and Harry heard her set it down.

Snape looked over to Harry, shooting him a look of wonder, much like the one of Harry's face.

"Aguamenti," said Evelyn from the other room, followed by the sound of water hitting the wood basin (or at least Harry assumed it was water). "Calor," Evelyn's voice said once the sound of water stopped. A moment later Harry heard a slight splashing noise, almost as though someone had put their hand in the water.

Evelyn returned to them, wand stuck in her dress pocket and arms crossed. Snape and Harry looked at her expectantly.

"You two are filthy," she said, bestowing upon them a look rather reminiscent of Aunt Petunia when Harry tracked dirt in the house.

Harry looked at Snape. Judging by his expression it hadn't really occurred to him either just how dirty they were. Indeed, there was grime streaked across Snape's face, and Harry felt his own and found it to be in the same predicament.

"While you take your turns I will wash your clothes for you," she said, fingering Harry's grungy sleeve with scrutiny. "You're first." She looked pointedly at Harry.

He frowned, wanting to know the full story behind their rescue. He then said, "But aren't you going to tell us -"

"There will be time for that later," she said, cutting him off. "Go."

"Yes ma'am," Harry muttered, thinking that he would have preferred to find out now rather than later.

"Leave your clothes on the chair by the sheet," she called to him.

"Okay," Harry replied, walking through the doorway cut in the partition and over to where an old bed sheet was hung from one of the wood beams that made up the roof. He went behind it and found the washtub, steaming and full of water. There was a little jar with what looked like brown slime, and a washcloth beside it on floor. Harry supposed it was soap. Two thin towels were folded a little ways away from the tub, one presumably for Snape later. As instructed, once undressed Harry put his clothes upon the little chair outside the screen, and Evelyn soon came in to collect them.

While Harry would have preferred a shower, bathing medieval style was not so bad at all. The soap was odd, but did a good job of getting the dirt to budge. Washing one's hair was a bit of a trick however, as the tub was rather small and required you to scrunch up pretty good to get it clean. Only once Harry was drying his hair off did he realise just how grungy he had been. The water was quite murky with dirt, and in some ways he was almost impressed by how much dirt he had managed to carry with him. He wondered if there had been that much dirt on his clothes. He figured that there couldn't have been too much though, for Evelyn had been very quick about getting his clothes clean, and they were even nice and warm. He wondered how she did it so fast, only to realise she had probably done it by magic. He found much humour in the fact that Evelyn, a woman from the Middle Ages, could get washing done faster than Aunt Petunia and all her modern day conveniences. He loved magic, really.

Feeling clean, and quite frankly very tired, Harry tumbled out of the room and to his previous spot at the table, where Snape was resting his head in his arms (however uncharacteristically Snape-ish of him it was) and making use of the comfortable silence. He was obviously as tired as Harry; after all, it was difficult to sleep with a death sentence hanging over your head, and now that they had been saved Harry was sure Snape was feeling the same amount of relief he was. He turned his attention to Evelyn, who had heard him come in. She took a glance at Snape and reached into her deep pocket. Snape looked up as she walked over and set two objects on the table. Their wands.

"How did you ..." spluttered Snape, looking positively surprised and delighted to see his wand.

"Ravens like to steal things," said Evelyn, flashing a mischievous look at them before going back to the pan she was heating upon a metal rack over the fire.

Snape had a spring in his step when he went to take his turn at washing up, wand tightly enclosed in his hand. Harry took his own and slipped it into his pocket. He was glad to see it again, even if he couldn't do much but a hover charm.

"What are you cooking?" Harry asked curiously as Evelyn flipped something in the pan, the sound of Snape filling the washtub with clean water flooding his ears.

"Salt pork," she said, leaning up against the wall while the meat cooked. "Hungry?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak with his mouth watering so badly.

"I haven't any bread ... though I don't suppose you would want any more," she said with a slight chuckle.

"No," Harry said quickly, mouth suddenly dry as he began thinking of the stale bread they had been supplied with in the jail. "Just so long as there's water too." Evelyn assured him there was.

While Harry was lost in unpleasant thoughts of old bread, Evelyn left briefly to go get Snape's clothes. She then put them in another smaller washtub full of soapy water by the window, and tapped her wand on the washboard. The clothes started to scrub themselves, and she returned to her thoughts of breakfast.

"I think I've still got some carrots," she said almost to herself, bustling over to a cupboard and glancing into a wooden crate. "Ah yes, still good." She pulled a few out and brushed them off. "All I have for food right now is what's been preserved or stored away in the cupboard. I haven't been home for a while." She brushed her finger on the dusty countertop. "I suppose you have noticed."

"I thought you were trapped down in the cave with the others," Harry said, frowning. "How did you get to us?"

"It's a rather long story, and I think that Severus would want to hear it too," she said.

As Evelyn turned her attention to the washing, Harry couldn't help but be surprised that she remembered Snape's name. However, the feeling of surprise was far outweighed by his impatience to hear the full story. So he was doomed to wait, and it was dreadfully difficult to refrain from pestering Evelyn while she washed and chopped the carrots, and dried Snape's clean robes with a flick of her wand and sent them to the chair with yet another swish of her wrist. Quite naturally, it was a relief when Snape finally emerged, his hair for once looking quite clean. It was slightly shocking really, without all those layers of grease. For once, he looked almost presentable.

Once the two plates had been placed in front of them (Evelyn had eaten earlier) and they began to eat gratefully, she told her story.

"As you may know," she began, paying no attention to the fact that Harry was crunching a carrot loudly, "McTavish has men patrolling through the forest, seeing as he suspects we are hiding out in there somewhere. Luckily for me, I am able to escape fairly easily because I am an animagus - a wizard or witch who can turn into an animal," she added at Harry's blank stare. "I had been flying through the town a few times a day while you two were in the jail, hoping for a chance to rescue you. I tried to sneak into the jail beforehand, but it was closely guarded and I didn't know how I would be able to escape with the both of you."

"Couldn't you have just app ... apprated?" Harry asked between mouthfuls.

"Apparated," Snape corrected him irritably. "There were wards Potter; there was no way for any of us to escape by magic. I tried to apparate a few times while you were sleeping."

"Yes," Evelyn continued, looking mildly annoyed at Snape for taking it upon himself to explain. "McTavish has the entire place bogged down with spells to keep anyone from escaping. It's easy enough for me to get in and out of town alone, but getting away with someone is very difficult."

"Is that why we had to run so far?" said Harry curiously, his plate clean already.

Evelyn nodded. "It is quite a ways to the edge of the wards." She looked out the window, lost in her mind for a moment before returning to them, voice soft. "I've never succeeded in making it before now."

"You tried it before?" Harry asked, missing completely the look that Snape was giving him, clearly saying not to pursue the subject.

"Er, yes ... my friend was caught," she said rather shakily. "The fire ... I couldn't keep it going ..."

"What happened then?" Harry said, wondering.

"It does not matter," she said bitterly before changing the subject. "I also had a reason for saving you, aside from the wish to keep innocent people alive."

"I thought that there was more to it," Snape said slyly.

"We need an antidote to the poison McTavish uses on his arrows," she said cautiously, hands still trembling. "Half of us have been ... well, you see, he's such a good shot." She took a deep breath. "A man who lives just outside Bridgewater was recently able to develop the antidote, but it would be too suspicious for him to send over large quantities of it, and our last owl was taken out by McTavish shortly after the both of you were caught. I think he knows something is going on ..."

"So," Snape drawled, looking unsurprised, "you want me to make one."

"You wouldn't have to start from the beginning," she said quickly. "The old man sent me the recipe, which he's tested with great success. We need someone who is good enough with potions to brew us a stock of it. I overheard you talking about potions back in the cave, and from what you were saying I think you should be able to make it."

"Might I see the recipe?" Snape inquired after a moment.

Evelyn then did something very peculiar. She took off her shoe and pulled off her stocking, thrust her hand down into it and pulled out a piece of parchment, dusted it off and handed to Snape, who took it gingerly. He looked upon it with mild distaste before unfolding it.

"I had to keep it in a place they wouldn't search if I was caught," Evelyn said apologetically as she put her stocking and shoe back on.

Snape did not reply, but had his nose a few inches from the paper, dark eyes darting back and forth rapidly. He nodded very slightly.

"I assume you have all these ingredients?" he asked, without looking up.

"Yes," she said. "I've got supplies for use as well, should you choose to help. It should only take a few days to brew at the most, which is lucky for us."

Snape set the paper down, clearly thinking deeply.

"I can hardly say no, can I?" he said, looking across the table at her while Harry peered down at the ingredient list curiously. He then added rather softly, "You saved both of our lives."

"So, you'll do it?" Evelyn said hopefully.

"I will," Snape replied, slapping Harry's hand away from the parchment, eyes still making contact with Evelyn. "But I do not know how long the boy and I will be staying. I am afraid that such a thing is dependent on variables I cannot control."

"Thank you," she said breathlessly, not paying too much attention to Snape's last statement. "If you can do this, then so many lives will be saved."

So it was decided. Snape and Harry were to stay at Evelyn's cottage so that Snape could brew the antidote, for it was too dangerous to attempt to return to the cave. Quite frankly, Harry was glad not to return there anyways. After digging out the ingredients and supplies that had been hidden beneath a cleverly disguised trapdoor in the cupboard, Evelyn left them for the day on a mission back to the cave to spread the news. This left Harry with nothing but Snape's company, and he obviously wanted to be alone to work.

"Get out from underfoot," Snape barked as he set up the cauldron. "Go outside."

"And do what?" Harry asked, a little baffled. He couldn't exactly explore very far, lest someone recognize him.

"Whatever young boys do," replied Snape irritably, sounding very slightly bewildered. "Climb trees ... er, eat bugs."

"Fine," Harry said, rolling his eyes and wondering if Snape had ever been his age anyway.

     He then wandered out into the cool sunshine. The birds were singing happily and the leaves on the trees were already a deep gold and flecked with red. Every so often the occasional leaf worked its way loose and drifted to the ground. As a leaf fluttered in front of Harry's eyes, he couldn't help but think it a little strange, because before they had gone back in time winter was close and the leaves had already fallen. Yet here, the time seemed to be just a little behind, and the leaves were only beginning to turn on most trees. Harry didn't mind this so much though, for the leaves were pretty and the days somehow still held that lingering warmth of summer. It was quite pleasant in all honesty. He flopped down on the grass, tired and content to just lie there, beneath the waving branches of the tree.

After a few minutes Harry turned over on his belly, and lo and behold there was a wee little snail, sliming along on a rock just in front of him. Watching with interest, Harry prodded it lightly with his finger, and it curled up into its shell. He grinned. Funny how something as little of a snail now seemed so positively wonderful after a close scrape with death. Of course, he always found snails sort of cool anyways, and this one had some neat shades of brown twisted through its shell. The slimy little body of the snail began to come out again, and the little stalks poked up and moved this way and that. Carefully so as not to hurt or startle it too badly, Harry picked the snail up and set it in his hand, resisting the urge to laugh slightly as it tickled its way across his palm. He got up, suddenly wanting to share with someone this quirky little display of life.

He strode into the cottage, hoping to find Snape, and find him he did.

"Back outside Potter," Snape said, pointing to the door without looking up from where he was working.

"I just wanted to ..." Harry began, but closed his mouth. He wasn't really sure what he had been thinking, imagining that Snape might find the snail interesting. Such a thing may seem extraordinary to some, but to Snape it would surely seem positively ordinary, uninteresting even.

"What is that in your hand?" Snape said sharply, pausing from cutting roots and staring down at Harry's grubby palm.

"A snail," mumbled Harry.

"Articulate, Potter."

Harry looked at Snape exasperatedly, "A snail." Obviously¸ he added in his head.

"Get it out of here or it is in the potion," said Snape coolly. "And don't get slime anywhere, especially not on my work space."

"Yes sir" Harry said rather childishly and stalked outside.

Snape looked as though he was about to say something but thought better of it, shook his head, and went back to cutting roots.

Who did Snape think he was anyway? Who was he to tell Harry what to do! Scoffing for even thinking in the first place to go show Snape the snail, Harry set it in a nice patch of moss. Looking for something to be angry about, Harry thought back to Snape's confession. It was all Snape's fault, everything. He didn't have parents because of him. So what if he didn't know that the information would make Voldemort think of them! Who cared if he switched sides? Well, supposedly anyways. Who cared if he had done everything he could to keep Harry safe the past week! Harry frowned. His argument against Snape really wasn't going so well. So he was back to where he started, face scrunched in thought and leaning up against the tree as he pondered once more what to think about Snape. He looked around the side of the tree, catching sight of the door, still open. He expected to see Snape working, but was surprised to see him staring in the direction of him. Snape looked gloomy, puzzled perhaps. Harry wasn't sure, but didn't take his time looking to find out. He whipped his head back around the tree and slumped down against it, thinking that Snape sure did act differently out of school.

And through his head rang Snape's voice, angry, pained, borderline hysterical. "It doesn't matter if I changed sides, it doesn't matter what I've done since because I still did that horrible, stupid thing, and for that ... for that deserve death!"

"No he doesn't," Harry said quietly to himself, firmly, knowing in his heart that was true. If he had learnt anything being stuck in the past with his professor, it was that Severus Snape did not quite deserve death; especially after all he had done to help Harry. Perhaps, just like Harry, all he really needed was a little understanding, even if he was a bit bitter and sarcastic. And yet Snape had still been the one to bring, while unknowingly, the piece of information that brought the hammer down on the lives of Harry's parents. How does one go about forgiving that? Harry asked himself. He felt very conflicted. He didn't hate Snape anymore, and he had come to even feel fairly safe in his presence in the last few days, but could he ever look at him the same again? No, he couldn't, Harry realised. But he could judge Snape now, for what he was today, and not for what he was yesterday. This suddenly brought his mind back to a girl from his primary school, of whom he had shared a short friendship with before she moved away. Her name was Alice, and she used to be really mean to him just like the rest of his class, like Dudley. Then, things changed. She got to know him one day when they were both in the nurse's office ill and waiting to be picked up. That was how they became friends, however slowly. He ended up liking her a lot, and admired her for her bravery, seeing as nobody had the guts to treat him well with Dudley around. He never would have had the chance at having her as a friend - however brief of a time it was before her departure - if he hadn't judged her not by how she used to be, but what she changed into. It was a profound lesson that he had learned quite early, something that some people never would come to understand. But Harry, did, and remembering his experience with Alice, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe the situation with Snape wasn't so different. Though Harry doubted they would ever be friends, he thought perhaps that he might gain an ally, for Snape had been helpful throughout the days they had been trapped in the past. Perhaps Harry needed to show Snape the same grace he had shown Alice and in turn, might give Snape the chance to see that Harry wasn't what he thought he was.

Harry's mind was brought back to Snape's comment on what he had done to rectify his mistake, and how it did not make a difference. But those things did matter, that and the way in which Snape had tried to act since. He had kept Harry as safe as he could, had he not? Changing sides wasn't nothing either. It mattered too. So, hesitantly, Harry resolved to give Snape a chance, despite of what he had done, even if he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to completely forgive him. And quite suddenly, he felt a thousand pounds lighter, knowing that he wasn't going to condemn Snape for his mistake. For, sometimes in doing that one only ends up aggravating the wound that was created from the misstep in the first place.

As he let his mind cool down after such a serious bout of thinking, Harry suddenly felt the desire to, in time, tell Snape that the way in which he changed mattered, just like Alice; though he wasn't all that ready to say it, mainly because he didn't quite know how. It had to be when Snape's mind wasn't elsewhere, when he would have time to listen to what Harry had to say. Snape couldn't go on thinking he deserved death for his mistake, and though he was not innocent, Harry didn't think he deserved that fate. And of all people, thought Harry, I should know best. They were my family. He just hoped he had made the right decision.