The sun was setting and beyond the lush, green treetops all that could be seen was the gentle orangey hues of the evening sky.

Sighing to himself the black clad wizard turned his gaze back to the hollowed old tree, bedded with leaves. It wasn't ideal, but then, neither was his current situation.

The ‘Potter Beast' had left before he had regained consciousness and he had no idea where they were. Hopefully they were somewhere near a wizarding village, preferably Hogsmeade, where they could gain access to the floo network.

The main problem was ‘they'. After spending an infuriating amount of time searching this blasted forest/wood/large park? -whatever it was! - for the boy, the beast had the nerve to turn tail and run! Obviously convincing the brat to follow him to safety was going to prove to be yet another exasperating chore for the Potions Master.

Part of him just wanted to leave him here. It would be so much simpler to find a village alone and reach headquarters so that he could gain some much needed rest while the Headmaster and the mutt dealt with the boy.

Of course, that would never happen. Truth be told, the idea of leaving a distressed creature -that happened to be The-boy-who-lived- alone in an unknown area while Death Eaters and mad men where looking for . . . him? It? was bothersome.

Sitting down the Professor shuddered; memories of what he had witnessed haunting his mind. How could they do such things to a person? How could they do such things to a child!?

Horror mingled with sickness and dread. The man who had done this. . . No. Right now his thoughts where to be put to the task of planning out his next few moves.

First, a quick summary of what knowledge he held on all relevant events. Now . . . the known enemies were the Death Eaters and . . . well . . . the group of scientific muggles that he did not know the name of . . .

Both groups are after the boy; one to kill him and the other to torture him and use him as some kind of monstrous weapon. As for himself, the Death Eaters would likely torture then kill him, while the muggles were more likely to keep him alive, though for what purpose he did not wish to discover.

The Order would no doubt be searching for them as well. Unfortunately, unless he could find a discreet way of letting them know how to find them, the Order had as much chance of finding them as either of the other two factions . . .

Potter had been forced into the shape and form of a monstrous beast and was somewhere within these woods, hopefully fending for himself and keeping quiet, and was too distraught and untrusting of people to allow him to get anywhere near him. On the other hand . . . he seemed to recognise enough in Severus to keep him from attacking his Professor . . .

It was apparent that he would have to gain the boy's trust before they could leave this place, but that led into the next problem. While there were more than enough places to find shelter, food and communication were a lot more difficult to come by. One could only survive for so long on berries and muggle hunting methods where beyond him!

The Potions Master gritted his teeth in frustration. It was becoming painfully obvious what That Man had meant when he had said that his wand would be of no use to him. Evidently, whatever shields that the men had been using absorbed the areas surrounding magic. His Apparition had been cut off because of this and now, to his greatest disgust and despair, he was finding it difficult to gain enough energy to simply light a small fire in order to keep himself warm.

He wouldn't be able to fight like this and he wouldn't be able to use magic to catch a decent meal or alert the Order. His best plan was to find the boy, convince him to come with him to find the nearest town or village and hope that his magical energies would replenish soon. If worse came to worse, he would have to leave the boy here and find aid as quickly as possible.

That would be his last resort.

-------ab------

The aged wizard paced the floor in deep thought. They had a problem and a very large and dangerous problem at that.

The race was on to find the-boy-who-lived and the Potions Master while the Ministry, which still refused to acknowledge the Dark Lord's return, was doing an amazingly accurate job of getting in the way. It seemed that the ‘Chimera threat', posted all over the Daily Prophet had taken full responsibility for all the strange goings on and disappearances that had actually been caused by the Dark Lord!

Unfortunately, this meant that the Order was the only group in this race that was split between duties. Many who worked within the ministry had been tasked with misleading the ‘hunt' for this ‘dangerous creature', while Sirius -who was making his displeasure abundantly clear- had been restricted to Grimauld Place. All the other members had been sent to various areas in search of the missing Professor and student.

Sighing, the Old Headmaster sunk into his cushioned armchair, his fingers circling his temples.

The Chimera was a beast that had proven beyond any doubt that it was a force to be reckoned with. Sometimes he cursed his intelligence. If he was blissfully simple minded maybe he could have persuaded himself that things were different but such a thing was not to be. Those muggles had done something to the boy, something appallingly cruel and sickening, but how did they get to him? And why had they never had any indication of this before?

Obviously a little more research was needed.

------ss-------

Only years of experience and practice kept his swift movements silent. A rough night's sleep on cold earth and leaves had not lifted the cranky Potions Professor's spirits in the slightest!

Right now, after what must have been several hours of searching these blasted woods, he could finally see the striped form of the large winged brat in the distance.

Keeping himself hidden in shadows and foliage the Professor edged his way closer, careful not to make a sound.

Kneeling on the ground amongst the wild plant life he took the opportunity to study his mark. This was the first time he had had the chance to look at the creature in any real detail.

The creature seemed unaware of the man's presence, too involved with the unlucky deer it had come across and decided was today's dinner.

‘At least someone has the leisure to eat and rest at a time like this! Foolish boy . . .' the Professor thought bitterly, his own stomach growling and adding to his irritation.

On further inspection however, it seemed a miracle that the beast boy, had even managed to catch the young stag at all. As he had earlier assumed, whatever blast had hit him during yesterday's skirmish had done a great deal of damage to his right wing, which had been cleaned of most of the blood but still hung limply by the creature's side and, judging by the way he seemed reluctant to put any weight on it, his right paw. Anyway, that could be a major problem . . . the right was the boy's wand arm and if not properly tended to he could be left with some serious weaknesses in that arm.

There were a number of other wounds along the creature's form, most of which looked as if they were healing sufficiently well but the Professor would not be happy with mere assumption.

As he watched the muscular form of the creature before him he was reluctantly aware of the sensation of bitter anger fading slowly away only to be replaced by a number of other emotions he did not usually have to deal with.

Sharp and heavily set teeth tore through the meat of its prey with great ease but every so often he would twitch and shift in pain or discomfort. His muscles seemed to seize up in his unnatural form and mighty claws would slam into the earth against the pain until the seizures passed and the creature could resume eating.

Slowly moving to a standing position the Professor moved from behind the tall grass and bush. To his dismay the night had not been enough for him to regain enough of his magical energy to cast any kind of spell that would help him in this task, so he had been forced to contrive a more muggle based solution. Fortunately this method was also used a lot in the taming of some of the less dangerous magical creatures so it did not sting his pride as much as it could have.

He edged forward cautiously, careful not to startle the beast and to keep his presence unknown until he felt he was close enough.

After a good number of steps he found the place to stand his ground and began to contemplate the best way to draw the creature's attention without sending it into a panic.

As it was he did not have to think long, in fact he did not have to think at all as the creature calmly lifted its head to look around to him.

‘Bloody thing knew I was there the whole time! Ten points fro- Guhrrr!'

The Potions Master stood and glared at the creature meaningfully but took a deep breath and forcibly calmed his features as it took a fearful step away from him.

How best to proceed? His preferred option would be to yell some sense into the boy but that would likely only lead to one of two outcomes; either the beast would flee and he would have to spend another tiresome number of hours finding him again, or it would react in the same way it did to . . . him, the other day and attack. That was definitely not the preferred outcome.

The next option would be to proceed with the original plan which was to tempt the creature closer to him so that he could show that he was no real threat. The problem with this however was that beast tamers usually had something to offer the creature, food being most common. As it was the creature already had its own meal before it and even if the Potions Master did have anything edible to share he would not stand in the middle of an unknown wood dangling a piece of meat before him shouting ‘Here kitty, kitty!'

He opted for a middle option which was to gently ‘yell' at it and hope that Potter could regain enough of his human self long enough to understand and recognise him.

If worse came to worse and the brat did bolt he could sit patiently in the woods until his magic came back then body bind the little beast and haul his furry hide back to the nearest village!

"Mr Potter, do you know where you are?"

His voice carried easily through the glen in which they were standing, but the creature showed no signs of understanding.

Calming himself the Professor tried again. "I am Professor Snape of Hog-"

The creature reared its head and took a nervous number of steps backward.

Impulsively the Professor raised both hands, pushing them out as if to steady the beast while showing it that he held nothing that would harm it.

‘Obviously . . . that is a name he would know to fear . . .'' he thought bitterly to himself.

He sighed in relief when the creature halted its retreat but it still dipped its head suspiciously as if it still did not quite understand the situation.

"I am here to take you home Mr Potter," he continued. "Surely you remember Hogwarts?"

Nervous fidgeting stopped immediately at that word and black furred ears picked up.

"Yes, you do remember it don't you? Hogwarts has become a home to many of us . . ."

The Professor pressed his teeth together. What was he saying? What was he doing? Well, at least it seemed to be getting some results. Best to proceed now and decide who will suffer for it and in what way later.

"No doubt your Godfather Black will be happy to see you. Not to mention the Headmaster. Who are you Potter? Who are you?"

Green eyes glazed over, just as they had done that night at Spinners End.

"For Merlin's sake remember yourself boy!" prompted the Potions Master.

The creature lifted its head sharply and locked eyes with the older wizard.

Emerald green eyes met obsidian black ones and for a moment, just for a second, the Professor thought that the boy had regained himself. Just as quickly as that moment came however it was gone.

Ears twitched to a sound beyond the Potions Master's hearing and a horned head twisted sharply in the opposite direction. It looked back once towards the silently pleading man before making a rapid dash towards the thick layers of trees and leaves.

Growling in frustration the professor swore quietly under his breath. He did not know what it was that had startled the boy but whatever it was it had now put him on his guard as well. With the tension of the situation the sound that had spooked the creature could have been something as simple as a hare in the grass or a bird taking flight but then it could also be some indication that they were not the only people in these woods.

Sighing in reluctant defeat the Professor beat his own hasty retreat. If there really was anybody else nearby he did not want to run into them until he knew exactly who they were and what they wanted.

He headed in the same direction as the boy. He was hungry and thirsty but if the boy was caught before he could reach him there were some serious problems to be had.

Why did anything involving a Potter cause him so much trouble!?

----ab----

The news was not good. Several days had past since the skirmish in which Severus and a transformed Harry had been apparated to an unknown destination. Something had obviously gone wrong with the apparition for no one had received word from either of the two wizards since that day.

Fortunately it would seem that the two were at least well hidden as reports indicated that no one had yet seen hide nor hair of them. Of course, this made it all the more difficult for the Order to locate them as well, but ‘No news was good news', or so they say.

Sirius was getting more and more riled as the days went on. Even Remus was having trouble talking to him at times and most of the time he spent the hours either locked up in the attic with Buckbeak or prowling the house in the form of a big, black dog.

It was a crime in itself to keep the man imprisoned like this, especially when all he intended to do was help his best friend's child but it was also a painfully obvious fact that the man would not last two minutes in the open with all the Ministry members and Aurors out searching for the Chimera. It was also a well placed assumption that Harry would need his Godfather alive and safe once they found him.

Interrogation of the Dursley's had uncovered a few answers but had also brought about a whole new range of questions that the Headmaster was not yet sure he had the stomach to find the answers to.

Apparently, in their desperate attempt to dispel any trace of magic from the boy, Vernon and Petunia Dursley had enrolled him in a special summer school and in a highly secretive way at that. It was still uncertain as to how all the arrangements were made but it would seem that they were approached rather than actively seeking such a place. Anyway, this ‘school' they believed they were sending the boy to was apparently designed to do the very thing they sought. Namely to ‘correct the unnatural' or rather to destroy the magical capabilities of young wizards and witches!

The ‘school', in fact, was nothing more than a torture chamber in Albus's mind. He was horrified to learn of the deep resentment that was still harboured towards the wizarding world by some and even more horrified at the lengths these people would go to remove this ‘problem' from their lives.

Most people, like the Dursley's for instance, did not know the full story behind this school. A personal interview of the family had left him with no doubts in his mind that they believed it to be nothing more than a ‘behavioural correction camp'. Many more families they had found believed the same.

Finding the ‘school' itself had proven to be difficult and when actually found, nearly all evidence of what had transpired there had been destroyed.

The wizarding world was facing a new threat and one that they may have originally been foolish enough to underestimate.

The boy had to be found and he had to be found quickly!