The arc of wizards and witches moved ever closer to the tired duo, their black robes and skeletal masks out of place in the once calm and peaceful woodland.

Wands pointed threateningly at the ex-Death Eater and wounded creature. Cold eyes fixed on their targets with malice.

"No sudden movements Potter, let me handle the current situation," muttered the Potions Master, his own wand outstretched and his eyes darting from one foe to another trying to judge the situation and find weakness within the ranks.

The Chimera padded its feet on the ground and let out a low, warning growl towards the Death Eaters, but did not make any other moves. The Professor could only hope that this was a sign that the boy was listening to him. He hoped so.

A number of the Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably as the huge creature before them barred its teeth at them but did not break ranks. This move had obviously been well planned.

The stand off stretched on for a good few minutes before one of the Dark Lord's followers directed a question towards his former comrade.

"Severus, you don't honestly believe yourself capable of defeating us do you?"

Severus recognised the voice immediately and replied in his own silky - albeit, a bit rough - voice. "I'm no fool Lucius, but neither am I a coward. Anyway, I have little doubt that you missed the previous skirmish. What makes you so certain that you will face this creature and leave this wood in a single piece, let alone alive?"

The mask hid the man's expression but Severus could still sense the flinch in his features. He doubted very much that the creature standing next to him would be taken lightly.

Lucius, however, was not one to back down.

"I have a proposal to make to you Severus," he said calmly, changing the subject completely. "Tell us where the Potter boy is and I shall give you a quick death now rather than turn you over to the Dark Lord where you will undoubtedly face his full wrath for your treachery!"

Severus sneered at the man. Considering what the Dark Lord would probably do to him, Lucius's offer was a rather generous one, even if it was not a favourable one.

Betraying the Order however was not an option for him and if need be . . . he would sooner kill himself than suffer at the hands of the Dark Lord. That was a decision he had made a long time ago.

"I am afraid that I must decline. I do not know where or how you might find Mr Potter as, unless you hadn't noticed, I have been stuck in a wood half starved for the past week! Also, Lucius, your offer is a lousy one!"

The blond Death Eater stiffened in anger before forcing himself to resume a calmer stance.

"So be it."

He raised his wand and the others followed his motion.

Severus mirrored the action but silently knew that he did not even possess the strength needed to protect himself let alone the beast as well.

The Potions Master was still rapidly considering his options when the first spell was fired.

The bright, ominous lights of the Death Eater's spells filled his eyes and before he could react an impact that felt like a Hippogriff kicking him in the chest sent the Professor into the air.

His senses dulled and blurred, his head instantly felt light and his sight swam out of focus. He was vaguely aware of shouts and a single thunderous roar deafening him before the sensation of cool air whipping through his hair and robes was replaced by that of icy cold liquid.

That was the point at which his consciousness failed him.

----ad----

They were too late . . .

This was the single, agonising thought running through his head at this moment.

They had moved swiftly but carefully. Several groups from the Order had moved to a number of different locations in this area. All but one had been decoys to try and tempt the enemy away from the main area in which the two missing wizards where believed to be.

But all had been for nought. Voldemort's men had got there first.

The Headmaster walked along the water bank - pacing while he thought. He was aware that his companions were asking for his advice and allowed himself a brief moment of silent bitterness before he straightened up and turned to face them.

Always! Every time a problem occurred it would be he who was automatically expected to have the answer. Whether the problem was as large as this one or as petty as losing their favoured cup! Blast his infernal intellect! How blissful it must be to have someone else to think for you.

But no . . . He shook his head inwardly. It wasn't their fault and he knew what he was doing the moment he decided to create the Order. Knew that it would be his responsibility to take command in all situations and face the bad along with the good until the very end.

"Albus?"

The withered looking man looked up at him in concern but he just smiled reassuringly.

"I am sorry Remus, I was lost for a moment there."

The werewolf nodded his head but said nothing else. Instead he handed something to him.

The feel of cold wood rested in his palm. The dark ebony wand was such a familiar sight to him that he could probably conjure up a clone for it in seconds.

But there was something off . . . something . . . missing.

A cold chill rippled through the Headmaster but he remained silent, nodding instead to the people around him.

"I shall alert the others. In the mean time we can do only what best efforts allow. Let us begin by searching these woods for any trace of our friends."

----ss----

A groan was the first sound that reached his lips. His body was cold and his head and chest beat with a dull ache.

On instinct he reached out for his wand but stilled his movements when he realised that it wasn't there.

Slowly and cautiously he opened his eyes, listening to his surroundings while he waited for them to focus.

He had learned that one's memory was always the last thing to catch up in times like these and so he had also learned to be very still and cautious until he knew what was happening.

Once focused, his sight fixed on a darkened sky, branches and green leaves. That's it, he was in a forest. . . . Why was he in a forest? . . . Potter! No need for memory there, the boy was so often the cause of all his 'little mishaps' that the thought had become instinct!

Wait . . . something else . . . Death Eaters!

He bolted upright and immediately regretted doing so. While he needed to be off the floor to search for any immediate threats his head obviously wasn't ready for such an action without ample warning.

Groaning once again the Professor raised a muddied hand to his head. The sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach was increasing with the passage of time and thinking was making him feel hot and nauseous.

Woodland, Potter, Death Eater attack . . . Wait! The boy!

Lifting himself off the ground took a tremendous amount of effort, more so because of the fact that his clothes where heavy and waterlogged and he became dizzy the higher his head was raised.

Staggering out of the water he attempted to call for the boy, hoping beyond hope that he was somewhere close by. All that emerged from his throat however was a rather hoarse whisper.

Gritting his teeth he tried again but the sound was only marginally louder.

He was somehow able to pull his tired form to a nearby tree which he leaned against for stability while he cast his gaze out to look for the creature he had been travelling with.

No sign of him.

Sighing he slid further down the tree, not quite touching the ground. He could almost cry at the frustration he was feeling but he knew that he wouldn't. Pride alone wouldn't allow it.

Instead the sickening feeling took over and it wasn't long before he fell to his knees in a cold sweat and his previous meal was once again free on the woodland floor.

Shaking he spat the foul taste out of his mouth and wiped his face with his sleeve.

His head was still slightly hazy but he had to admit that he did feel a good deal better now that his stomach was empty again.

A noise to his right gained his attention and mindfully he rose from the ground, never once breaking eye contact with the bush from which he heard the sound.

For the second time he reached for his wand only to find it missing and swore lightly to himself.

He edged closer to the bush, treading lightly and carefully as he went. As he neared however he was able to distinguish the sound a little easier and, while it did little to fill him with any sense of glee, it removed some of the wariness and apprehension he was feeling.

The quiet and muffled sobbing grew louder as he reached out and gently pushed back some of the foliage.

Mixed emotions of relief, sadness, anger and, could it be sympathy, washed over him as his gaze fell down to rest off the huddled and shivering form of a sobbing child.

Knowing that the cold and damp would do him no good, but neither wanting the boy to sit out here naked, the Professor removed his outer robe and carefully draped it over the boy, shivering at the sudden gust of cold air that he had exposed himself to.

The boy jumped at the sensation, obviously surprised to find the Professor standing next to him, and Severus had the disturbing feeling that there was that same animal-like fear that would have forced the boy to flee then and there had a sudden pain not gripped his small form and pinned him to the ground.

Bending he reached into his robes with a prayer and almost called out in joyous relief when his hand clutched around a familiar object.

Pulling some of the fallen leaves into a small pile he uncorked the vial and placed the undying flame in to its centre.

The boy watched his moves intensely never moving and never saying a word. When the fire took form however the Professor was please to notice that he settled down and seemed to relax into the warmth.

The Professor sat back, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm himself before turning his attention back to the boy beside him.

He looked pale and too small and thin for a fourteen year old. Currently he was nursing his right arm in his left and staring intently into the flames.

"How's you arm?" asked the Potions Master gently, his voice still rough and hoarse.

The boy looked up at him warily as if not quite sure of the situation.

Even if it was severely damaged he doubted that there was anything he could do about it but he still felt a strong instinctual urge to diagnose all injuries the boy may have.

The child had remained silent for some time now. If he knew Potter, and with the greatest misfortune he did, the boy would soon ask about what was going to happen and where they were in about twenty different ways. He would lying a great deal if he said that he wasn't a little bit concerned at that thought.

"Your arm, Mr Potter, how is it?" he repeated, too tired to get angry at him.

Harry just looked down at his shoulder as if only just realising that he was injured before looking blankly back at the Professor.

Sighing and shifting himself along the ground Severus inched closer to his ward speaking to warn him of his intent.

"I will need to check the extent of damage done to your arm and shoulder. I suggest that you hold still and try to gain some warmth from the fire until I am done."

The boy tried to edge away but pain held him still and he gripped his arm tightly.

The Professor reached out and applied a small amount of pressure to the shoulder. He sensed that the boy was uncomfortable but was certain that he was not causing him any more pain than necessary.

As deft fingers travelled the length of bone checking for breaks the boy seemed to gradually relax under the pressure of the professor's touch. It was probably best to tempt the boy into speaking. Even if it was only for a few words, that would be enough to put the Professor's mind at sufficient rest.

"How do you feel?"

No answer.

"I am not in the habit of talking to myself Mr Potter. I have asked you a simple question."

Again, no answer. But he had a disturbing feeling that it wasn't because the boy was trying to be difficult. Rather, it looked as though he was struggling to put the words together, as if he had never been asked to use the human language before.

"Your shoulder is shattered . . ." the Professor told him with a grimace. "Though your wounds seem to be healing rather well."

The boy simply stared at him.

Sighing, Severus ended his status check and retreated back to his own seat upon the solid earth not too far away from the boy. It was much warmer with the fire but the air and ground were still cold and his joints ached and groaned.

"Use your good hand to rub the heat into your chest," he instructed. "You need to keep the main part of your body warm lest you wish to become ill."

He was relieved to see that after a brief moment of continued staring the boy moved to do as he was told and began rubbing his chest slowly with his left hand while huddling under the large black cloak that seemed to drown him.

Settling down for the night Severus wondered how far away they where from any kind of civilisation and whether or not they could make it to such a place before the Death Eaters caught up again.

Come to think of it, how did they get away in the first place???

Looking over to the boy that was now dozing off by the fire a realisation dawned upon him.

It was him! With whatever strength the creature had had left he had picked Severus up and dived into the brook in an attempt to lose their attackers. What strength it must have taken to direct them down stream, away from multiple curses and hexes he did not know. But the boy had somehow managed it.

His feelings on that matter where lost, however, along with all coherent thought. The Professor's mind drifted slowly into nothingness as he too felt the pull of sleep tugging at him and lay his head down to rest.

----???----

"Stabilizing blood pressure. Patient is returning to consciousness."

"Have the transplants taken?"

"Yes Sir. A few tests will need to be run but we have no reason to doubt their failure."

"Good. Very good."

----ss----

A magpie. A bloody magpie! Of all the things to wake up to and it's the sight of a lone magpie looking down on you! As if his luck wasn't bad enough!

Growling at the world in general the Potions Master made to sit himself up. His entire body ached from sleeping on the ground and he was certain that the only reason he had got any sleep at all was his sheer level of exhaustion.

He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before opening them to meet with an emerald green stare.

"Can I help you," he growled at the boy.

Harry merely dipped his head in embarrassment.

With the greatest of protests from his aching body the Potions Master lifted himself off the ground and looked around.

He coughed at the tickle in his throat and noted with discontentment that he was already suffering the early stages of a cold.

To add to his dissatisfaction was the fact that every direction looked the same. He had no idea where they were and even less of an idea of where they were going.

In short, this 'camping trip' sucked!

A rather gargled sound broke him out of his depressed ramblings and brought his attention back towards the ground where Harry sat. The boy seemed to be struggling with something and was pointing rather awkwardly to his left.

"What is it?" the Professor ground out trying, but failing, not to sound irritated.

"Pe-pl. . ." was the repeated hoarse whisper.

"I beg your pardon?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Pe-opl," he attempted again but ended in a fit of hoarse, dry coughing.

The boy was trying to speak! Immediately, but without any sudden movements, the Professor was by the boy's side trying to tempt the words out of him.

"Take your time Potter," he ordered. "Concentrate on the words and sounds you are trying to form and say it slowly.

The boy nodded and tried again, taking care to shape his mouth right and pressing the air through his lips in his attempt to speak.

"Pe-o-p-le. Peo-pl. Peop-le."

"People?"prompted Severus.

The boy nodded with a slight smile but the Professor was up on his feet and scanning the area.

"Where?" he demanded, preparing for any sudden ambushes. Not that there is much he could do if there was one.

The boy shook his head in the negative, bringing the Professor to sit slowly down again.

"Then what?" he asked again, his short amount patience reflecting his poor mood and health.

Again the boy pointed to his left.

The Professor looked over his shoulder but could see no one.

"I don't understand. Can you see someone?"

The boy shook his head.

"Have you heard anyone?"

Again, a shake of the head.

"Are you afraid that Death Eaters might be in that direction?"

A slight pause but an eventual shaking of the boy's head told him 'no'. Although he guessed that there was an element of 'yes' in that last one.

With a frustrated sigh the Professor let his shoulders drop. "You will have to try and elaborate."

Harry sat still for a moment trying to think of another word that could describe what he wanted to say. His throat felt scratchy and sore and truth be told, he was finding speaking to be rather difficult at the moment. While his head was slowly clearing there were still dominant features of the Chimera's mind that still gripped him.

"-oms," he tried.

"?"

"'omes," he tried again. Apparently it was even more difficult to pronounce the letter 'h' when your throat felt like it needed to be cleaned out with a loofah!

"Ho-" he broke out into another coughing fit as he tried to force the sound out of his mouth.

Fortunately the Potions Master had spent enough time with the Hogwarts Grounds Keeper to be able to guess most words with missing letters in them.

"Homes?" he offered and between wheezes the boy finally nodded an affirmative.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked.

Rather than struggle for words again, Harry decided upon a simple game of charades although the game wasn't so simple with a broken shoulder.

He pointed to his nose, to which the Professor took immediate offence.

"How dare you! We may not be in Hogwarts but for your own sake I suggest that you afford me the proper respects."

Harry shook his head 'no' and scowled at the man in annoyance.

"No?"

Closing his eyes the boy would have hit his forehead if he could raise his arm to do so. How was it possible that someone with so much intellect could be so dumb!

He pointed to his nose again and then to the direction he had indicated earlier.

Snape had opened his mouth, probably to berate him again but slowly closed it as he guessed that Harry was trying to tell him something else.

"Are you suggesting to me," he ventured. "That you can smell people near by?"

Harry sighed in exasperation and nodded a firm 'yes.'

"Drop the attitude," warned Snape before he began his own coughing fit.

Rising to his feet he indicated for the boy to do the same and helped him as he started to follow.

He did not know whether or not the boy's senses were leading them towards a village or not but he had no reason to believe that the boy was lying and he had no other ideas for the moment.

Taking off in the suggested direction, the two made their way through the trees.

Their progress would be slow as it seemed that neither of them had particularly high levels of stamina at the moment but they could only hope that they found safety before they found danger.