"Potter!"

Harry groaned. It was dark. Everything hurt ... especially his eyes. They ached like someone was poking his eyes with hundreds of thousands of little needles.

"Potter!"

Who was that? It sounded ... like Snape. Yeah, Snape, that was it. But what was Snape doing in his bedroom?

"Potter! Dammit, Potter, wake up. We need to get out of here now."

He sounded awful scared, Snape did. Why? It was just his bedroom...

And then everything came rushing back to him. The Dursleys... the Death Eaters... Voldemort's spell.

With a gasp, he tried to open his eyes... just to realize that his eyes already were open; he just couldn't see anything.

"Potter, thank Merlin."

Snape sounded relieved.

"Professor?" he croaked, facing the direction that Snape's voice had come from. "What--"

"Don't talk Potter, we need to get out of here," came the reply. "Can you walk?"

Harry shifted a bit, trying to figure out his surroundings. He was laying on something hard -- a stone floor, it seemed, and damp to boot. Placing his hands carefully, he tried to lever himself up -- a task that was rather hard without his sight. After stumbling a bit trying to straighten surprisingly sore knees, he finally managed to get into a standing position, though he could feel himself swaying unsteadily. Something was wrong with his head -- it felt all foggy. He reached up to rub at his eyes but was stopped by Snape's voice.

"Potter! Don't!"

He froze immediately. He heard Snape stumble unsteadily to him. Harry frowned in concentration, trying to figure out what his senses were telling him.

There was something wrong with Snape. He was walking strangely, dragging one leg slightly. His breathing was a bit ragged, wet sounding, as if there were liquid in his lungs. He documented mentally the Potions Master's progress across the room to his side.

"Are you all right?" he asked, turning carefully to face the direction he heard Snape approaching from.

Snape ignored the question. "Don't touch your eyes, Potter. There still might be a chance a mediwizard can fix them," he said gruffly. "We need to depart the premises immediately. My cover has been blown."

Harry nodded and then realized something rather stupid. "Um, where's--"

"The door is approximately six feet in front of you. It is open and un-warded. Do try not to trip over Avery. He's sprawled out to the right of the doorway."

Harry took a tentative step forward. Then another. Behind him, Snape growled impatiently, "At this rate, Potter, we'll get to the doorway by the time the Dark Lord realizes I'm not quite as loyal as previously believed."

Harry muttered an unfavorable comment under his breath about his professor's ancestors and their unfortunate habit of breeding with dogs and rodents. Snape muttered something equally unfavorable back, ending with an expletive. Then he moved forward until he was next to Harry and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist. "Put your arm around my shoulder," he said in his classroom voice, the tone that meant do-what-I-say-because-I-feel-like-using-y

ou-for-potions-ingredients.

Harry tentatively wrapped an arm around Snape's shoulders. Without wasting a second, Snape started walking forward at a much faster rate, taking Harry with him.

They made surprisingly good time through the winding passages in the building. Even more surprisingly, they met up with no Death Eaters on the way. However, just as they exited the building onto the grounds, their good luck came to an abrupt end.

"Do my eyes betray me? Is that the traitor and the prisoner, hmmmm?"

Even before Snape hissed, "Lucius," Harry knew that it was the senior Malfoy, just by the fact that he had the same oily voice and overly erect stance as his equally pompous son.

But then Lucius was yelling "Avada Kedavra", and a spell was whooshing past awfully close to his right ear, and there was no more time to contemplate the similarities between father and son. Snape gave him a shove and yelled, "Run, Potter! Straight forward -- don't stop!"

Harry stumbled forward, feeling another spell whoosh by him again as he ran unsteadily forward, praying to whatever deity would bother listening that he didn't catch his foot on anything and trip.

And even as he heard Snape yelling curses in response to Malfoy, Harry's hand came in contact with the rough bark of a tree, and he ran blindly into the underbrush before him.