The thestral whipped through the trees, the two people astride it with their hair flying back as the wind tossed everything behind them. The stamina of the thestral was far more impressive than that of any horse, for this creature was one of magic. It thundered through streams and over rocks until Harry and Snape were well past the cottage. It was amazing how fast the thestral was able to navigate the terrain, but Harry feared it would not be quick enough, for even though he tried so very hard to keep his eyes to the light he could feel himself being dragged further into the poison's clutches. It caressed his veins, and made his whole body ache. Dizziness washed over Harry as he began to feel an irresistible chill pulling over him, and yet minutes later that chill had turned to a burning pain and any contact Harry made with the thestral, or Snape sitting behind him made his skin sear with heat.

        They raced the sun as it fell further in the sky, slipping steadily downward through a haze of colour as they journeyed on through woods and across creeks. How long had it been was a question Harry did not dare ask. Still, Snape urged the thestral on and kept his arm tight around Harry, who with the falling sun felt himself slipping further away into nothing. Slow, but sure. Trees blurred at the edge of the path, whether because of their speed or the poison, Harry did not know. Although, he did notice that as time went on they seemed to blur further, until he was not quite sure he could recall a moment when they had not looked like the paint pallet of a madman. As they jolted along through a land of twisted colour Harry began to ache, and this ache grew slowly like a cancer as it spread from his arm to his entire body, until each thump of the thestral's hooves made him dizzy with pain. No words were spoken, for there was no time to be wasted. And so, still they pressed on, neither acknowledging that quiet illness called fear, as it spread through their hearts while the light began to disappear. Alongside the sun fell their hope.

      Out of the trees they burst, over hills and through fields. The sunset blazed in all its glory until it was extinguished. Nobody spoke of the fact that they should have passed the old mill that Evelyn had mentioned many miles and hours go. Harry barely registered this anyways, for further he fell into the grasp of darkness. And dark was the sky, the stars unseen for the thick blanket of cloud that had enveloped the stars above, slowly creeping up behind them as the sun languished among the pines ahead.

        Long ago Harry had begun to tingle all over, and now the cramps grew worse and made him feel dizzy and sick. The thestral heaved beneath them, its body hot and sweaty. It was only a matter of time until it was unable to go any further. Harry himself could not stay upright on his own anymore, and he slumped back onto the strong body behind him, of which Harry was barely aware of the slight trembling that ran through it. So dark grew the night that they could barely see three feet in front of them; it was hard enough to see themselves, and Harry almost felt as though he had disappeared as well in the darkness as it slowly sapped the life from him.

     The moon shone ever so slightly through the clouds as it rose higher into the sky, shedding a scant amount of light upon the surroundings. Within his foggy mind Harry really and truly realised that they should have been there long ago. He tried to ask how much further, but his words came out garbled, though Snape seemed to understand.

      "I don't know," he replied in Harry's ear. "Over the hill ... just keep looking over the hill. It will be there."

      Harry didn't like the sound of Snape's voice.

      The thestral was sweaty and slipping beneath them. Harry could hear it panting and grunting with every step. Surely it could not go on?

       Numbly Harry turned his thoughts to the hill, and watched for their destination, for the outskirts of the next town. But they went over that hill, and the next, and the next. The grimness of the situation grew further as the sand in the hourglass slowly ran out. Nobody could truly say just how long it had been.

      The clouds around the moon twisted strangely in Harry's eyes as Snape struggled to keep him from slipping off the thestral. Suddenly, in the dim light of the moon behind the thin clouds, Harry saw a faint outline below him. Blackness was moving beneath him, sweat and froth streaking its leathery skin.

     "I see it," Harry said thickly, his voice sounding strange to him and quite frankly he himself barely understood what his clumsy lips said.

     "See what?" Snape said after a moment, his voice hopeful.  "The next town?"

     "Thestr'l," mumbled Harry with difficulty as he awkwardly moved his hand to feel the hot skin of the animal. He heard his words properly formed in his head, but they would not come out properly. "Though' you had t' see someone die."

      Snape was quiet a moment, and all that could be heard was the sound of hooves slamming to the ground, though to Harry they sounded distant.

      Harry felt Snape's chest rumble behind him when he finally said, "Do not think about it, Harry."

     "'m I dying?"

     "Shh," was the soft whisper he heard in response, his fuzzy brain not quite able to understand why he felt that it was so odd for the voice to be so gentle.

     He was slipping away, and as the thestral below them - exhausted, ready to collapse - grew clearer the surroundings around it grew dimmer. Being so disconnected from reality, Harry barely felt the splash of the water as they crossed a shallow river, and he did not feel the pain as the thestral finally crumpled beneath them and they tumbled into the water below. He was vaguely aware of the coolness washing over him as his back ground into the rocks beneath him. Harry felt himself lifted out of the water, for Snape would not make the thestral go further, and it would not have gotten far anyways.

     "I don't know where we are," Snape said softly to the limp boy he carried and set down upon the bank. Harry did not respond, for he was seeing strange things - mist and shapes moving within it - and barely felt as though he were physically there anymore, for the aches had been replaced with numbness.

     "C'n you hear ‘em?" Harry croaked, stirring feebly as Snape sunk down in the grass next to him. There were people around them talking, soft voices ringing through the air. He thought they sounded familiar.

       "No," Snape whispered, "I cannot hear them."

      It was terribly dark, and they could barely see each other. The thestral was only just an outline in the water, for what little light that reached out from behind the clouds was able to find it. The creature heaved laboriously and panted, the water flowing around the spot where it lay in the river.

     "We must keep going," Snape said.

       Harry asked how long it had been, but it came out funny. Snape understood anyways.

     "I can only guess ... it would likely be better if you didn't - "

     "Tellm'," was what Harry's statement sounded like, though he was trying to ask Snape the words tell me.

        Snape looked over to him, his outline barely visible in the blackness, and so Harry could barely see him. He wondered fleetingly if this was not only due to darkness. Harry shivered violently as the thestral got up from the river and fell upon the bank, breath turning to fog in the  cool night air. It was the clearest thing in Harry's field of view. He got a sick feeling at this realization, and he could hear its gasps for breath just as clearly, though all other sound around him was dampened.

     "Ten hours at least," Snape muttered. "It's remarkable you're still conscious."

     Harry didn't quite understand what Snape said, and could only feel the sense of foreboding that number gave him, for a reason he could not recall. His mind was way too foggy. He wheezed a little, lips trying to say something.

      "I forgive you, for what you did," he said with difficulty, not completely sure why he said it but something deep inside him telling him this was the time to say it, and that he needed to.

       Snape looked alarmed as Harry let out another wheezing splutter, what little light the moon had cast vanishing as the clouds grew thicker. A sharp fiery pain went through Harry's spine, and then a second later it felt as though he were drenched in ice water. He gasped again. It was hard to draw breath. A cold shudder went through him as a tear snuck down his cheek. He hoped it was not seen in the darkness. His cold hands ached dully, and though he had very little feeling left, his right hand grew warmer. It took him a moment to realise that another hand had hesitantly wrapped around his, and yet another second to realise whom it belonged to. It was a simple gesture, but Harry did not feel as terribly alone as he had before.

      A few seconds passed before anyone spoke, though these seconds felt like hours.

     "I will not give up here," Snape said with conviction as the thestral let out another loud breath feet away as it rested. He pulled Harry's limp and aching body into a sitting position. Harry's head lolled back and his heart ached with the bleakness of it all.

     "No," Harry said strongly. He coughed. He did not want to go on. He didn't really fear death, for he was sure that wherever he ended up he would be in less pain, and going on would only bring false hope. "'s too late." Surely death could not hurt so much as the hunger pains he had felt in the past?

      "It's never too late Potter," growled Snape, and Harry felt himself rise from the ground as blackness overcame him.

      There was a rushing, roaring noise growing at the edges of Harry's brain. Everything was black. He was able to think sluggishly, so he knew he was not unconscious. He wondered how he could still see Snape amongst the nothing. If he were unconscious he would not have bee able to see him. The roar grew louder, and Harry didn't think anymore as lights flashed before his eyes, creating a crazy quilt of dark and light around them. Snape looked alarmed, and in a second the blackness grew softer and Harry felt another splash as they fell into a cold mass of water not much higher than Harry's knees would be should he have been standing. The jolt of landing made Snape's knees buckle with the added weight in his arms. Harry vaguely recognized his professor swearing as he was lifted out of the water, and then Snape began to run. The water sloshed loudly, but Harry was having difficulty making sense of the swirling shapes around him. The sound of water disappeared, and Harry thought they were rising and Snape's footsteps echoed strangely. Darkness pulled over his senses like a thick blanket, and then it was suddenly light again.

     "Hold on Harry," said a breathless voice above him as yet another wave of ebony overtook him. Light and dark; dark and light. All the while the musty air rushed by. They were going upwards again. Harry could hear Snape's breath coming in sharp gasps as they journeyed on. The air seemed strangely stale and dry for a forest, or at least that was what Harry thought fleetingly. Still they pressed on. Dark and light; light and dark. That was how things proceeded until Harry knew no more, for the darkness had beckoned him into its folds and taken him. He did not think; he did not feel. But he was most certainly not gone.