Harry held his breath and kept his eyes closed.  His mind raced with thoughts about who the attacker might be and how he could escape.

"Calm down and get your wand.  We're going."

Harry felt a huge wave of relief pass through him and out in a big sigh.

"P-Professor, wh-what-?"

"No time.  Move!"

Harry felt his glasses being pressed into his hands.  He scrambled to retrieve his wand which had rolled under the bed and followed the Potions Master briskly out of the hospital ward.

Shouts and crashes could be heard in the distance.  Harry gripped his wand tightly and watched the corridors around him alertly. 

"Professor, what's happening?   Where are we going?" he asked urgently.

"Deatheaters.  To meet the Headmaster," Snape replied curtly.

The Professor winced and Harry found the likely source of his pain at his lower arm. 

"You're hurt!"

"Ignore it.  Move!"

"B-but!  We have to- We just left the hospital wing. . .  Where's Madam Pomfrey??"

"I sent her ahead to warn the other staff members, now stop asking questions and move!"

With that the Professor quickened his pace and Harry had to half jog to keep up with him.

They came to a stop at the familiar stone gargoyle where Snape uttered the password and the staircase opened up before them. 

The Headmaster was upon them even before they entered his office.  Recognising the two he led them in and towards his desk.

"As you have undoubtedly realised, the wards surrounding Hogwarts have been breached," he spoke sombrely.

"Tell me what to do!" Harry interrupted before the Headmaster could continue.  "I'll fight with you!"

"You will do no such thing you foolish child!" snapped Snape.

Harry rounded on him.  "Why not!?  I can fight, I have done before-"

"And nearly died on every occasion!"

"I won't leave Hogwarts to those- those-"

"POTT-!!"

Snape had reached out to grab the boy by the shoulders but instantly recoiled, gripping his shoulder tightly.

"P-Professor!"

"You should remember to hold as much concern for your own health as you have for Harry, Severus. . ." Dumbledore interjected.

The Headmaster tapped his wand on Snape's left arm and the Potions Master gradually released his grip, the pain fading from his features.

"Thank you Headmaster. . ." he uttered in quiet tones.  Harry knew he genuinely meant the ‘thank you,' but there seemed to be a warning tone mixed in with it.

Turning his attention back to the youngest wizard in the room, the Headmaster returned to his more serious front.

"While your will to defend our school is indeed admirable, Harry, now is not the time, and this, is not your battle. . ."

Harry felt anger flare up inside of him again.  How dare Dumbledore not allow him to defend his home!?

He opened his mouth to argue, but fell silent at the look in the Headmaster's eyes.

"I am sorry Harry, but my decision is final.  I am afraid that, for your own safety, you must return to your relatives for the time being."  

Harry froze.  If the Headmaster was trying to offer him a safe option he would sooner take his chances with the Deatheaters!

He began to protest, but his voice was drowned out by another.

"Eh, Headmaster, are you sure that is wise?"

The Headmaster turned to look at Snape with a raised eyebrow.

Harry turned to look at Snape with two raised eyebrows and a bottom jaw that threatening to hit the floor.

The Potions Master seemed to ignore the looks and continued with barely hidden difficulty and carefully chosen words.

"Regarding what we, discussed, some time previously, I, personally, am not overly confident in the protective abilities of Mr Potter's guardians."

The Headmaster seemed to contemplate the words for a moment.  Harry concentrated move on his mixed feelings. . .

‘I don't want to go back to the Dursley's!  Why is Snape so bothered about me!?!  Discussed?  So they talk about me in private do they!  AH! The sounds of the fighting are getting closer. . .  Why is Snape so bothered about me!?!?'

"Where's Sirius?" he blurted out.  "Can't I go to wherever he is?"

He thought it was a good idea.  Sirius at least wanted him around!  And practically anything sounded better than going back to the Dursley's. . ."

Both older wizards looked at each other then at Harry.

"For the time I am afraid that is not possible Harry," explained the Headmaster.  "As you know, Sirius is still on the run from the Ministry, and. . .  Well.  Fulfilling an important task needed if we are to put up a good defence against Voldemort as he rises in power."

"Can't I-"

"No Potter!" Snape cut in before Harry could finish his question.  "You cannot help him."

Harry turned to glare at Snape who only sneered back in response.  "Haven't I taught you anything?"

Harry's glare weakened as confusion seeped in.  In Snape's words there seemed to be some kind of mix between exasperation, frustration and. . hurt?  Was that the right word?  Whether it was or not, it certainly did not match the snarky Potions teacher's usual character. . .

"Think Potter!" Snape clarified.  "Who do you think they are here for?  Who must they not reach at any cost!?"

Harry gulped.  ‘Me?  B-but, why??'

"Why?"

Snape seemed to develop a slight twitch in his left eye at the boy's question which made Harry gulp again. 

"Think Potter!"

At this point the Headmaster stepped between the two and offered a battered looking news paper to Harry. 

"This Portkey will transport you straight to your room in you Aunt and Uncle's house, Harry," Dumbledore explained.

Harry took a step backwards shaking his head in the negative, but the Headmaster only pressed on.

"The protection wards there are still active and will keep you out of harms way.  Harry, we will be fine.  There is no need to worry about Hogwarts, only your own safety is important right now. . ."

The boy looked up at the Headmaster.  His eyes seemed to plea for Harry's compliance as his held out the Portkey.

Harry's breathing became harder and his heart was beating fast against his chest.  That unexplainable fear he had been getting for the past week or so was now stronger than ever, and also accompanied by the fear of what might become of Hogwarts and the teachers defending it.

Going back to the Dursley's was one of his deepest dreads, but the sounds of pained and angry cries could be heard clearly now as the battle move closer towards them.  He wondered vaguely if he would be considered a coward for yielding to the Headmaster's will and fleeing.  Would he be able to live with himself if he did so?

Slowly he reached out a shaky hand towards the Portkey.  It felt almost like his hand was trying to push through an invisible, but physical form of all his doubts.  Only his loyalty to the Headmaster made him keep reaching.

"Wait."

A sudden voice made him jump just before he grabbed the paper and both Headmaster and student turned their heads to find the source of the voice.

Snape stood for a moment, almost as startled by the sound of his own voice as the other to wizards.  He finished of the battle within his own mind, then, with some difficulty, straightened himself up to continue speaking.

"Are you certain of this Headmaster?  Considering what we have- er, witnessed, along with the fact that we still have very little inkling as to what, caused, this particular occurrence. . ."

Harry was further surprised.  Never had he expected to see Snape of all people struggle to put forward a straight point or argument.  He guessed that it was just the effect the Headmaster had on people. 

A bang that was close enough to shake the room sped the conversation up considerably. 

"What would you suggest Severus?" asked Dumbledore.  His words where urgent, but he did not seem to be too annoyed. . .

Harry watched the man intently.  It went against every instinct he had, but for this instant he relied completely on Snape to come up with something that might save him from his given sentence.

The Potions Master twisted his cloak around his fists and gritted his teeth, clearly arguing with himself, but it did not take long for the words to fall out of his mouth with the already close-range battle looming ever nearer. 

"He may accompany me."

Dumbledore made no hesitations in his movements.  He flicked his wand over the battered news paper, which glowed for a moment before returning to its seemingly normal state.

Snape strode over to Harry and the Headmaster and took a steadying breath.

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked, offering out the Portkey again.

Snape only nodded.  Harry wanted to ask where they were going, but the sounds around them kept him silent and at the Professor's sharp order he grabbed the Portkey.

  ----------------------------

The lurching feeling ended and Harry staggered backwards and stumbled over something upon landing.  He looked down by his feet to see a pile of dusty old books laying at his feet.

"Get up Potter," Snape said lazily as he swept across the room.

Harry did so and took a moment to take in his surroundings. 

The room was dark and dreary.  A stale smell filled the air as if windows were opened very rarely.  Three walls where almost completely covered by large book shelves containing various tomes and manuscripts.  A desk supporting nothing more than an inkpot and quill, a roll of parchment and a low burnt candle sat before the only window in the room.  The window itself being covered by a pair of moth-eaten, dark coloured curtains. 

The Professor opened the curtains a crack and peered out.  After a moment of looking up and down the streets he nodded to himself and turned to light a candle-filled lamp.

With the small amount of light offered from the lamp, Harry continued his inspection of the silent room.

Other than the desk the only furniture in the room where two worn and beaten armchairs and an old coffee table.  Books lay in piles about the room.  On the floor, on the chairs, over the table. . . Everywhere, but all covered in dust.  The place looked like it had been abandoned for a long time.

"There will be no magic used while we are here Mr Potter."

Harry whipped his head up at the sudden break of the deathly silence.

"And you will show me nothing less than absolute respect in this house and out, do you understand?"

Harry nodded mutely.  His mind was still trying to catch up with everything.

"This way," Snape indicated as he headed towards a bookcase and opened a hidden door.

Harry followed, his mind and voice finally joining him halfway up the stairs.

"Sir?  Where are we?"

"Spinner's End.  We will remain hidden here until we get word from the Headmaster."

"Do you think they're alright?"

"I am certain they are."

"How?"

"We are still alive and not suffering violent torturing."

Snape stopped in front of a thick wooden door.  He reached for the handle and motioned for Harry to enter when he opened it.

In the room was a small bed covered by a dark, tattered blanket, a bare desk decorated by one lone candle lamp, a book shelf and a chest of drawers. 

Harry wiped a finger across the dresser and wrinkled his nose at the large amount of dust that came off it.

"This will be your room for the duration of your stay.  I will not appreciate you snooping around this house so if there is anything you want or need you will come directly to me," said the voice by the door.

"Rest here until I call you down for supper."

The door closed behind the Professor as he left and Harry little the small lamp with some matches he found in the desk drawer. 

The light did little to brighten the room and the boy moved to open the window to let in some air.

Looking out he could see the chimney of an old, disused Mill and the cobbled streets below.  The sight looked very different from the ‘perfect,' clean and tidy road called Private Drive.  This area looked more like something a person like ‘Jack the Ripper' would inhabit.

‘At least in the films these kinds of places always have the attacker outside. . .  Private Drive is more like something from a slasher movie where you don't know where the psycho's coming from until he's got you!'

Opening the window only invited in the smell of dirty water and fumes.  Still, little air circulation was better than none. . .

Harry flopped down on the bed and sighed.  The thought of what could be happening at Hogwarts made it impossible for him to rest, but trying Snape's patience would mean something very unpleasant, and Harry was in no rush to find out what that unpleasant thing was.

He fidgeted on the bed for a while before his restlessness became too much for him, then get up to pace the room.  Sitting and doing nothing seemed to be the only thing ever expected of him when anything dangerous occurred, but the thought alone drove him crazy.  He wanted to help!  Wanted to do something, anything!  Anything that would be worthwhile. . .

Worry grew into frustration and frustration into anger.  He hated being confined into one, small space.  And he hated more than ever having to ‘hide out' in this dingy little room while there was a battle to be fought.

He paced the floor at increasing speed as his anger and frustration grew, the creaks and groans of the floorboards echoing his movements.  He felt caged, imprisoned, and he wanted out!

A sudden, sharp pain streamed through his right arm taking him to his knees.  He gripped his upper arm tightly willing the pain to subside.  A feral roar seemed to reverberate deep within his chest as he dug his nails into the wooden floor.

Panting he fought to bring himself back under control.  The pain in his arm weakened into a dull ache as he took deep steadying breaths and a cold sweat formed across his face.

For several minutes he knelt on the floor, steadying his breathing before lifting up his now exhausted form and shifting towards the bed.

He flopped down and closed his eyes and the slight dizziness he felt and, unknowingly, he fell asleep.

  --------------------

Opening his eyes groggily Harry heard a low voice speaking to him nearby.  He rubbed his eyes and looked up to see a familiar face looking back at him with an undecipherable expression.

"I have been calling you for the past ten minutes Potter and I do not enjoy being ignored.  Supper is ready."

Harry groaned.  He hadn't realised that he had fallen asleep. . . 

Getting up he followed the black clad figure down the stairs and back trough the hidden bookcase door.  On the table were two bowls of warm broth.

"You will be relived to know that the Deatheaters that attacked the school have been chased out, and that no deaths occurred on either side," said the Professor.

Harry sighed.  Relief wasn't a strong enough word for what he felt.  For him the whole world had started spinning normally again. 

Snape sat down and began eating without saying another word.  Harry followed suit, but one spoon full reaffirmed that the stuff really did look as bad as it looked.

Snape sneered at the boy's expression as he swallowed the broth with obvious difficulty.  "If you had been quicker it would still be hot."

Harry wrinkled his nose at the contents of his bowl.  "Its temperature doesn't excuse its taste!"

Snape only glowered at him with disapproval.  "The taste comes from a potion within the broth that will help you regain your strength.  Now be quiet and eat it."

Harry sniffed at what could only be described as ‘stuff' in distaste.  "I thought potions couldn't be mixed with ‘cooking'," he uttered under his breath.

"Potter. . ." warned Snape.

Taking another spoon full Harry tried to swallow the contents without letting any of it touch his tongue.

‘Blah!  How can he eat this stuff!?  I bet his taste buds are as dead as his ability to be nice!  . . . Speaking of which. . .'

Stirring his spoon idly around the bowl he decided on how to word his next sentence.

"Thanks," he decided on in the end. 

It sounded odd, and felt weird.  He never thought he'd find anything to be grateful for at the hands of this man, and yet, this was the second time in a month that he had said ‘thank you' and genuinely meant it.

The Professor stopped eating, but didn't look up. 

"You know, for-"

"They are deplorable people, but I have no use for words of thanks, just eat your broth and then go and rest."

‘Hmph.  As cold as ever.  What was that he said?  ‘No use for ‘words' of thanks.  Hmm.  Actions speak louder than words. . .  I guess.'

The two ate the rest of their supper in silence.  However, that silence was not an entirely uncomfortable one any more. . .

‘Hiding out with Snape. . .  This'll be. .  interesting. . .'