The castle emptied of students that Saturday, with two third year boys from Ravenclaw and a fourth year Hufflepuff girl the only others spending the holidays at Hogwarts. Harry and Ron slept in that morning, having stayed up late playing wizard chess in the common room. Strolling down to the Great Hall, Harry marveled at the transformation: twelve tall richly decorated trees filled the hall; enchanted lighted fairies danced along the ceiling; garlands of holly, mistletoe, and juniper berries strung themselves along the walls; red, green, and gold candles floated about; and charmed strands of golden glittering rope twined itself along the eaves. Fat white flakes of snow fell from the sky on to the enchanted ceiling, and the castle gleamed in a fresh layer of sparkling white snow.

After a quick breakfast of toast, Harry and Ron went searching for Ginny and Hermione. A quick search of the castle did not locate them. Remus had not seen them when they saw him in the Entrance Hall as he headed for a look at the Great Hall. Returning to the common room, Harry stopped short when he saw the girls sitting there, peacefully reading. Ron plowed into the back of him, knocking him over. Both glared at the sniggering girls, as they sat watching from in front of the fire.

“What are you two up to?” Harry asked suspiciously, standing and brushing off his pants. Ron straightened up beside him.

“Why, nothing, Harry, just sitting here reading.” Hermione fluttered her eyelashes at him in total innocence, Ginny effecting a similar expression.

“Reading, my arse.” Ron muttered to Harry.

Harry looked over and smiled, realizing it was way too close to Christmas to question further. “How about a snowball fight?” He asked, knowing that Ron was itching to get outside.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances, and then smiled up at the two friends. “Well, Ginny has some, uh, homework to do, but I’ll go with you.” Hermione said brightly.

“Homework?” Harry muttered a few moments later, as he shoved his arms into his jacket, and threw his Gryffindor scarf around his neck. He bent over Ginny, who looked up at him with a grin, and gave her a swift kiss.

“Go and have some fun, and maybe I’ll be out a little later.” Ginny told him as she caught the back of his head and pulled him down for another kiss.

Harry ruffled her hair affectionately, and followed his two friends out the portrait hole, down the marble staircase, and out the great oak doors. A world decorated in white greeted them; fat flakes of powdery snow fell silently, muffling any other sound. The three stopped for a moment at the top of the stairs, just looking out over the beautiful scene. Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and stepped down into the almost knee deep snow. Harry followed them, breaking into a run at the bottom of the stairs, dancing through the falling snowflakes.

The three teenagers played in the snow for almost an hour, throwing snowballs, making a crooked snowman, and playing like children. Feeling eyes on them, Harry looked up to see a figure in a window, and imagined twinkling blue eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile, as the Headmaster followed their movements from the window in his office. Waving merrily up at Dumbledore, Harry missed the well-aimed snowball that thumped him on the back of his head. Spinning around Harry waved his hands in the air, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and handfuls of snow began to bombard Ron around the head.

“Arrrrrrrrgh…Harry!! Stop already!!” Ron yelled at him, Hermione rolling in the snow with laughter.

Harry pulled Hermione to her feet as Ron brushed the snow off the back of his neck. Hermione took out her wand and muttering an incantation, performed a drying spell on all of their clothes. The snow was still falling gently around them and the tracks they had made in the snow almost half filled by it. By unspoken consent, the three turned towards the castle, and began to make their way back.

“Harry, what is that?” Hermione pointed at a patch of black that marred the otherwise unrelieved white of the area.

Harry stopped and peered through the falling snow. “I dunno, Hermione, it almost looks like a person.”

Harry took off at a run, the other two falling in behind him. As he got closer, the dark blob looked more and more like the fallen figure of a person in a Hogwarts uniform. From the corner of his eye, Harry could see a figure in black racing from the front entrance of the castle. They all converged on the spot at the same time, and Harry saw that it was Professor Snape who dropped to his knees beside him, looking at the form of a small body completely covered by a black robe.

“Malfoy said…student down.” The older man panted his greasy black hair in disarray around his face. “Help me.”

The four of them reached out to grasp the black cloth, thinking to turn the student over. Instantly, the feeling of a hook jerking behind his navel told Harry that this had been a trick, and the black robe a portkey. The world dissolved into a spinning darkness, as apprehension exploded in Harry’s stomach.

Harry landed in a heap, with the others piled around him, in a dark, cold, wooded place. Scrambling up, his wand already in his hand, he tried to peer through the darkness.

“Kill the others, the Dark Lord wishes only Snape.” Growled a deep voice.

The muttered words rang in Harry’s mind, bring a flashback of a high cold voice in a dark graveyard; “Kill the spare.” Without conscious thought, Harry sent a stunning curse toward the voice. Spinning, he blasted the other direction, the spell light illuminating four hooded and masked Death Eaters. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that Snape was on his feet, moving back to back with him so that they covered each other. Ron was pulling Hermione to her feet; both had their wands in their hands.

A jet of purple light flashed and with reflexes born of Quidditch practice, Harry dodged to the side, his wand flashed. “EXELLIARMUS!” He cried, watching satisfied as the wand flew out of the Dark Eater’s grasp. “STUPEFY!” The figure dropped in his tracks and Harry quickly bound him with the spell that Remus had taught him.

Hermione’s scream brought Harry’s head around in time to watch her fall, Ron battling one of the Death Eater’s over her, driving the black hooded figure back. Happy leapt back to where the others were, taking aim at one of the two figures bearing down on Snape. Ducking a stunning curse, Harry hit the Death Eater with a Blasting Curse that slammed the figure into a tree.

Glancing around, Harry could see that they were in a clearing in the middle of a heavily forested area. The ground was covered with a thick carpet of fallen leaves that muffled the sound of their movements. Looking over at Ron, Harry spun, disappeared, and reappeared behind the masked figure bearing down on his best friend.

“STUPEFY!”

The Death Eater fell heavily, and Harry quickly bound him. He ran toward Ron, who was on his knees beside Hermione. He saw that Snape had stunned his opponent and was binding the figure.

“STUPEFY!” Came a shout from their left, and Harry changed direction, heading toward Snape, when a blast of red light jetted past him. As if in time had slowed, Harry watched as the Potions Master tried to dodge, but stumbled and took the curse full in the face.

“You son of a…” Harry cried, whipping around in time to avoid a jet of purple. Tapping down the rage that flooded through him, Harry spun. He reappeared to the right of the startled figure. “EXPELLIAMUS!” He yelled. “IMPEDIMENTA!” As the

Death Eater dropped, Harry bounded him tightly.

Running back, Harry dropped to his knees beside the unconscious professor, his fingers sliding down Snape’s neck feeling for a pulse. His fingers found a strong beat, and Harry dropped his hand to Snape’s chest, reassured to feel steady breathing. Spotting the older man’s wand, Harry slid it into his pocket. He looked over to see Ron helping Hermione sit up, looking pale but conscious.

“Is she okay, Ron?” Harry asked quietly as he stood.

“Yeah, just a little rattled, and I think she hit her arm when she fell.” Ron carefully helped Hermione up.

“Okay, we need to get out of here before any more Death Eaters can show up.” Harry said, looking around them. He held out his hand and the four wands of the bound figures flew into it. He threw them as hard as he could in to the woods. Holding his wand on his flat outstretched left hand, Harry muttered. “Hogwarts, point me.” The wand spun, finally pointing straight into the forest. As he closed his hand around his wand, Harry caught a glimpse of his watch, not knowing if it would have any affect, he pressed his finger to it, his mind reaching out. Nothing happened.

“Come on, we got to move. Hermione, can you walk.”

“Yes, I’m okay.” She gave him a small smile, cradling her left arm, Ron at her side.

“Mobilicorpus.” Harry said, his hand held over Snape, whose body rose and moved with him. “This way, quickly.”

They set off at a fast walk, making their way through the thick forest, as quickly as they could. Harry made frequent checks of Snape, but he remained stubbornly unconscious. “Greasy git, can’t you just once be anything but stubborn?” He muttered under his breath.

Harry had lost track of time, when he stumbled, his foot catching the top of a root and twisting, sharp pain shooting up his leg. He managed to catch himself, and Ron leapt forward to steady him.

“You alright, mate?” Ran asked, helping to lower both Harry and Snape to the ground, easing the older man’s head into Harry’s lap.

“Yeah, but I think I might have sprained my ankle.” Harry rubbed at his right ankle. Hermione sat down beside him, her face pale and he could see the pain reflected in her brown eyes. “How are you doing?” He rubbed her lower back gently.

“I’ll be okay, Harry, any idea where we are?” She asked quietly.

Ron sat down beside them, closing his eyes wearily. “Not quite the start I wanted for the Christmas holidays.” His eyes snapped open and he grinned at Harry. “You were bloody wicked back there, mate! You have to teach me that spinning thing!”

Any response was drowned out by a low moan from Severus Snape, his hands flying to his face. Harry caught them in his hands, gently restraining them. “Professor, can you hear me?”

Snape stopped moving, and in the dim light Harry could see him open his eyes. He blinked several times, and tried to sit up. “Easy, Professor, you’ve been out for a long time.” Harry let go of his hands and caught the black-clad shoulders. “How do you feel?”

“My head feels like it has been forcibly removed from my neck, Potter, how do you think it feels?” The weak voice had a familiar sneer in it, which heartened the teenagers.

A white-hot pain throbbed through the lightening bolt scar on Harry’s forehead, and he gasped. “Probably like mine is going to feel any moment now, as I think Voldemort is getting the news that you’ve escaped his trap.” Harry said resigned. “Do you want to try to sit up now, Professor?”

“Yes, if you can…”

Harry helped Snape sit up, letting the professor lean heavily against him, as the man held his head in his hands. Rubbing at his forehead with one hand, Harry pulled Snape’s wand from his pocket with the other.

“Lumos,” Harry muttered. “Here is your wand, Professor.”

Severus Snape raised his head, turning his face slowly towards the lighted wand. He reached out, his hand trembling. “I do not seem to be able to see it, Harry, if you would hand it to me please.”

The three teenagers gaped at him. Harry carefully placed the wand in Snape’s hand, but retained control of it, tilting the man’s head back gently and looking in to his eyes. They looked normal although the skin around them was red and bruised; the pupils reacting to the light being pulled away, and then brought close again.

“Nox.” Harry murmured, his head pulsing again with pain. “We need to keep moving, they could be searching for us still.”

“How are we going to do that, Harry, with your ankle?” Ron asked him, his arm still around Hermione. “Professor Snape can’t see, and Hermione’s hurt, too,” He drew a deep breath. “Maybe I should go ahead and see if I can find help.”

“I don’t think we should separate, Ron, especially when we don’t know where the portkey took us, or how far from Hogwarts we are. If we were close at all, you could Apparate, but…” Harry trailed off as another wave of pain seared white-hot through his head.

“I believe we may be in a forested area near Hogsmeade, but I can not be certain,” Snape commented quietly.

“Come on, we got to try to get further away at least. My head is about to split, and I am not going to be any help if Voldemort has a temper tantrum now,” Harry stood, leaning down to help Snape to his feet. “Are you alright, Professor? Can you lean on me?”

“Yes, Potter, I think I can walk with your assistance.” Snape said, as Harry positioned the older arm across his shoulder.

Ron helped Hermione up and they all moved slowing in the direction that Harry’s wand had pointed to. Harry gritted his teeth, the sharp pain in his ankle a perfect foil for the searing pain in his head, limping awkwardly as he supported Snape. Slowly, the group made their way silently towards a lighter section of the forest. Harry stopped just short of the area, trying to see through the dimness of the dense brush.

“I think there is a clearing up ahead, Professor, it looks like the trees are further apart, and the lightness may be snow, as it is too thick to fall here,” He lowered Snape gently to the ground, and signaled Hermione to sit with him.

“Ron and I are going to go ahead and take a look, you two stay here,” As he watched, Hermione reached out and took Snape’s unresisting hand in hers, her wand held ready in her injured hand.

Ron beside him, Harry limped toward the lightness, his head throbbing so painfully that tears slid down his cheeks. Silently, they crept up to the edge of the clearing, sheltering behind the trunk of a large tree, Harry met Ron’s eyes, reading the same fear he was feeling, and nodded. Together, they stepped out in to the snow covered clearing from the opposite sides of the tree and right into the arms of Albus Dumbledore.

“Professor!” They chorus together, the wave of relief that went through him almost took Harry to his knees. Remus Lupin materialized in front of him, hands clutching at his shoulders, and over his godfather’s shoulder Harry could see a group of people in the clearing headed towards them.

“We have to go back and get Hermione and Snape, they’re both hurt,” Harry turned around and with Ron, limped back to where the other two sat in the shelter of a large tree. “I think Professor Snape is in shock, he took a curse to the face and now he can’t see, and Hermione hurt her arm.” He told Dumbledore and Remus as they followed.

Just as the large tree that Hermione and Snape sat under came into view, the top of Harry’s head seemed to implode with pain. The world went black as he felt Voldemort’s towering rage as the Death Eaters told him not only of the failed mission, but also of the three students who help his former Death Eater escape him.

The murmur of voices penetrated his consciousness, as the world of pain receded enough that Harry became aware again. He could feel Remus’ presence near him, and could hear Hermione’s clear, but slightly hoarse voice, and he tried to open his eyes. A groan escaped him as blinding white light reflected off the snow that covered the small clearing that they had found. Several hands reached out to support him as he rolled to sit up. Harry was unable to swallow a moan of pain, as he jarred his right ankle.

“Harry?” Remus was beside him, and Harry looked up at him blurrily. “We need to get you back to the castle, the others think they can Apparate, we’ve just been waiting for you.”

Harry nodded, the pounding in his head easing, and stood up with his godfather’s help. He could see that the others in the clearing had been part of the Auror squad from the Shrieking Shack; Kingsley Shaklebolt was stalking around the perimeter of the clearing barking orders. Grasping at the arm that Remus offered him, Harry stood and looked around. Hermione had her good arm around his waist, looking pale and shaky. Ron stood to her left, his arm supporting Severus Snape, whose face looked even more bruised and inflamed in the light. Moving to the center of the clearing, they dropped their arms, the group Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.

Remus stood guard at the gates, while Harry and the others helped each other toward the great oak front doors of the castle. Harry had one arm around Hermione’s shoulders and his other arm looped around Snape’s arm, guiding him. Ron was on Hermione’s right side, supporting her with an arm around her waist. It was slow progress, but as soon as they were within sight of the front steps, Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey came running out to meet them.

The nurse ended up putting them all to bed at the far end of the hospital wing, even Ron, as she was sure that the same shock that had set in with the other three would hit him at some point. It was now almost dinnertime, and softly flickering torches lighted the ward. Minerva McGonagall stood guard over them, her deep almost black forest green robes making her look like a panther protecting her cubs. Glancing over at the stoic figure of the older wizard in the bed beside him, Harry had to smile, thinking that Snape would not appreciate being thought of as anyone’s cub.

Harry watched the activity move from Ron and Hermione across the aisle, to the man next to him, his broken ankle still waiting to be mended. Madame Pomfrey had concentrated on the Potions Master and Hermione, who had both been hit by the same curse, but affected differently. Hermione had taken the curse to her chest and it had done some damage to her lungs. Healed first, she was now sleeping, Ron watching every movement as her chest rose and fell. Professor Snape had taken the curse to his face and eyes, and Madame Pomfrey had used her wand to heal what she could, and gave the man a healing potion for his eyes, before wrapping a black silk scarf around his head.

“You will be fine, Severus, but you just need to keep this on for a couple days while your eyes have time to repair.” She had told him with a pat on the shoulder. Snape leaned back against his pillows, arms crossed over his chest, silent in his dark world.

It was Harry’s turn, and he let the nurse fuss over him in silence, as she healed the broken bone in his ankle swiftly, with a potion for the damage he had done to the tendons and ligaments by walking on it. His scar still burned and throbbed, but the pain was manageable, and he didn’t think to mention it. Closing his eyes, he had to smile as he heard Pomfrey mutter something about engraving his name on the bed, as he seemed to be in it so often.

“Harry?” Albus Dumbledore’s voice drifted to him quietly, and Harry opened his eyes to see the Headmaster sweep into the hospital wing with Remus at his side.

“Severus,” Dumbledore walked between the two beds that held them, his head resting first on Harry’s head and then on Snape’s in an identical gesture. Harry had to smother a laugh at the scowl that erupted on the older man’s face. Dumbledore strolled over and repeated the gesture with Hermione and Ron, before returning to look down at Professor Snape.

“Is everyone okay? Where’s Ginny?” Harry asked softly, knowing that the youngest Weasley would be beside herself with worry.

“She’s fine, Harry, and should be on her way here. Molly and Arthur arrived early this afternoon, as planned, so they have been with her,” Dumbledore told him, looking over to make sure Ron was listening.

“Thank you, sir,” Ron said quietly, his eyes returning to watch Hermione.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Harry said quietly, looking up at Remus with a smile as his godfather sat down on the bed.

“Yes, Harry?” Dumbledore sat in the chair between Harry and Snape’s beds.

“I dunno exactly what happened or what you’ve been told, but when Ron, Hermione, and I saw what we thought was a person lying in the snow, Professor Snape came running up, and he said something about Malfoy sending him out.” Harry met the light blue eyes with a puzzled expression. “I thought Draco Malfoy went home for Christmas?”

“Indeed he did, Harry,” Dumbledore looked at the Potions Master. “Severus?”

“Yes, Headmaster?” Snape responded dully, his voice sounding oddly flat.

“Can you tell me what happened this afternoon?”

“I was walking through the Entrance Hall on my way to lunch, when Mister Malfoy ran up and said there was student injured outside. I ran out the door, without a thought to anything but getting to the student, and fell neatly into the trap that had been set.” He sighed. “I did not immediately recall that the train had left this morning.” Snape lapsed into silence.

The discussion was interrupted as the doors at the end of the room opened, and Ginny Weasley and her parents hurried in. In a swirl of spinning cloth, Molly Weasley pounced on Ron first and then Harry, hugging, kissing and fussing over them quietly. Ginny hugged her brother and moved over to kiss the top of Harry’s head, as she stood by his bed. Harry smiled up at her and took her hand. He closed his eyes, listening as Mister Weasley gentle restrained his wife from smothering their youngest son.

It was very late when Harry awoke, disoriented by the darkness around him. A moan from the bed next to him reminded Harry of what had happened that afternoon, and that he was back in the hospital wing. He retrieved his glasses from the bedside table with a wave of his hand and put them on. Snape was lying down in his bed, his arms held stiffly at his sides, his head rolling back and forth. Harry quietly crawled out of bed, and moved to sit beside Snape.

“Professor Snape?” Harry spoke softly, trying not to startle the sightless man. “Can I get something for you or call Madame Pomfrey?”

The Potions Master turned his head in Harry’s direction, his whole body stiffening. “I do not require assistance from you, Potter!” He snapped.

Harry supposed the nasty response was supposed to make him angry enough to leave the older man alone, but instead it sadden him. “Professor, I know you hate me and think I am a spoiled, arrogant child, and you are not exactly at the top of my Christmas list either, but we fought side by side in the woods today and Diagon Alley last week. You have helped me and even taken care of me in the past, why is it so difficult for you to let me help you now?”

Snape was quiet for so long that Harry thought he was going to ignore him completely, when he heard a slow sigh. “I am sorry, Harry, it is difficult for me to…rely on others in the best of circumstance, but especially now as I am particularly helpless.”

“We are, as you and Professor Dumbledore have pointed out many times, on the same side, sir,” Harry reminded him quietly. “If you will tell me what you need, I will try not to get it for you in an irritating manner.”

“The small amber colored vial of potion on the bedside table. Madame Pomfrey left several vials there and I can not tell which one to take.”

Harry leaned over the bed and selected the proper vial from a small rack of potions that had been left there. As he moved back and silently lifted the Potion Master’s hand, placing the small vial there, a throb of pain pulsed through his scar. His gasp of pain drowned out the quiet mutter of thanks from the man in the bed. As he rubbed his forehead with one hand, the other reached to take the now empty vial from Snape.

“What it is, Potter?” Snape asked softly, not releasing the vial.

“Just this stupid scar hurting again, sir,” Harry tugged the vial out of his hand and reached over to put it back in the rack. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No, thank you, Mister Potter.”

Harry climbed back into his own bed, and quickly settled back to sleep.