Minerva McGonagall crouched on the corner post of a stone wall as she watched her "contacts" retreat back into woods and farmland. Her eighth such meeting of the night had given her more information than any of the others, specifically regarding the nearby town of Topsham and the manor named for it, that lay on the outskirts. It was almost two am, time to check in again.

Minerva arched her back and stretched, very catlike, as the last of her sources twitched their tails, vanishing into the darkness, then transformed back into her normal, bespectacled self. A few Apparitions and Floo rides later, and she entered the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

Albus was there, as well as Nymphadora Tonks, who was midway through her own report. "No change on the south coast, and minimal difference in and around Swindon. Not enough to show any significant dark curses being thrown around."

The women watched as Albus crossed several more names off the list in front of him, then shifted his gaze to Minerva, silently asking for her report. She told him about three of the places she'd visited since their last check in, and watched him cross off those names, too. Then she addressed Topsham.

"How sure are you?" he asked.

"Fairly." She drew herself up and adjusted her tartan shawl. "According to my sources, the vibrations around Topsham Manor point to very dark magic indeed. In the last fortnight, the emanations have increased tenfold, and the numbers of native creatures inhabiting the surrounding areas has decreased dramatically. I believe that is where we will find him."

Albus nodded, his gaze pensive and focused inward. "Good. Excellent work, ladies."

Tonks turned from Minerva, and a stubborn expression crossed her malleable features. "I want to go on the rescue."

"I, as well," Minerva put in. She would not be put off this time.

But Albus shook his head, taking another lemon drop from his never ending supply. "I need you to mind the school," he said gently.

"Albus! You can scarce afford to send anyone else. What of the attack you said was planned for Leeds? The school can mind itself for a few hours."

The Headmaster was quiet so long, head bent, that she was sure he was going to refuse. But then he nodded, at last. "It's true," he said, and his bright blue eyes met Minerva's. For once, they were not twinkling. "I have no one to spare for this mission. The most I can do for you is try to remove any blocks or wards on the property, so you may gain entrance." He studied each of them in turn. "I need not remind you that not only will this be dangerous, but that if you are caught-"

"We will not be caught," Minerva told him. "But, in the unlikely event that occurs, we will not expect relief from outside."

Tonks nodded, beside her, and Albus spent a few minutes making each of them a portkey out of an old lemon drop tin. The portkeys would take them, plus one other, directly to the Hogwarts infirmary. They spoke a while longer, finalizing plans, and then Albus shooed them out of his office, with his promise to inform them the very moment the manor wards were breached. Minerva and Tonks Apparated from the gates of Hogwarts to the edge of the town of Topsham, and Minerva led the younger woman toward the manor, where they awaited the signal.

The night was warm, and the moon a mere sliver of yellow, which set behind the distant hills, even as they waited. The first touches of false dawn lit the sky before the stone in the charmed ring on Minerva's finger flared to orange.

Time to go!

---

Just after midnight, Severus held a muted conference with the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Bloody-Annoy-Him in the bathroom, with water running in tub and basin both. He boy was pale and shaking again. Apparently, a raid planned for Leeds had not gone well for the Death Eaters. They had been interrupted by Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix, and several of their number were killed or arrested. The Dark Lord was angry.

The result of his anger had required Potter to bathe again, as he'd covered himself and his bedclothes in vomit before being rendered unconscious. The lightning scar on his forehead bled freely, and burned ugly red against the boy's otherwise quite pale skin. Severus was having second thoughts about the escape, not least because he couldn't get the stubborn boy to agree to anything! Right now, he was trying to convince the fool to use the portkey Severus kept for emergencies. The problem the boy kept harping on was that it was set for only one person to use, so Severus could not be followed by someone who meant him harm. It also meant, he could take no passengers.

"I can find my own way, you arrogant child!" Severus spat.

From his seat on the edge of the tub, Potter turned his face up to the potions master. Severus had transformed a teacup into dark glasses, and had minimized the bandages on the boy's eyes so they were hidden by the glasses. He hoped no one they met would realize just how blind he was. Anything they could use to their advantage, they would.

"Who's arrogant now?" the boy growled softly. "How will you get out? I'm not leaving you behind."

"As if you have a choice!"

The boy set his jaw and Severus barely refrained from grabbing and shaking him. "I can choose not to leave."

With narrowed eyes, Severus considered the boy and his utter obnoxiousness. While he found Potter's determination to continually play savior rather irritating, it was also good to know the boy had courage to spare, and would not duck and run at first opportunity. But Severus was not going to be the one responsible for getting him killed. He sighed and explained. "I will need to get you out beyond the wards that prevent Disapparition, or the portkey won't even work. Then, you will use the portkey, and I will Apparate. Unless you are suddenly capable of that now?"

"No, sir." Potter's chin came up a fraction more. "But I want you to promise me you'll do it."

"Do what?"

"Apparate. Promise you won't stay behind and try to spy anymore."

Severus gaped at the boy's audacity. What was he playing at now? It wasn't as if the arrogant whelp gave a rat's fart whether his slimy git of a potions professor lived or died. "I can't do that," he said at last.

"Then he'll kill you." Potter's voice actually broke over the words, startling Severus still further.

"No. He needs his potions, Potter, and his spy into the Order." He would be punished, horribly, for letting the brat get away, but he would not be killed. Probably. And if there was anything to be salvaged from this debacle, he would do his best to find it. He owed Albus that much, and more.

The boy was quiet long enough that Severus thought he had acquiesced, but he was still surprised when Potter nodded. "I'll need your wand. If you're staying behind, it'll look better if I've taken your wand."

"No. Absolutely not." How dare he even suggest-

"Then I'm not going. He'll know, otherwise. How could I have overpowered you and snuck away without even a wand?"

"Fine!" Severus grated, finally out of patience. This boy might literally be the death of him. "Now, listen to me. The guards will be changing in less than five minutes. Ten minutes more, and I will unlock the door and hit them both with Stupefy. We'll have very little time after that; alarms will have sounded . . ."

----

It had been, all in all, a stupid plan, borne of desperation, with too many ways it could go horribly awry. Still, they had made it as far as the back entrance to the manor, with Potter gripping the wand in one hand, and a fold of Severus' cloak with the other. The wand was aimed at Severus' back, as if he were holding the older wizard hostage and forcing him assist him in an escape. Though Severus was as alert as he ever was - which was to say, very -- Potter heard the others first, and jerked him to a stop, seconds before Severus saw them for himself. Seconds before a burst of red light streamed into the space he would have occupied, one step later.

Damn, damn, DAMN!

Severus spun to re-capture his wand, knowing that the boy would not be able to use it very well without his sight. But the brat surprised him again and had aimed at the trio of Death Eaters who emerged from the shadows. With a shout of "Expelliarmus!" he disarmed one of them.

Curses and counters flew back and forth, and the boy seemed to have a preternatural feel for where spells would come from, and where they would go, and he dodged and ducked to avoid each one, except when he set up a block. He hit another of the Death Eaters with a body bind curse, and had taken aim at the third when Severus heard the thundering of more footsteps. Many more.

"Out!" he shouted to the boy. He seized Potter's shoulder and dragged him to the door. They had just made the back steps when the Death Eaters appeared behind them, more than a dozen, from all over the manor, it seemed like. And more came at them from the shadows of the grounds. They were surrounded, with odds of fifteen to one, and the edge of the wards was over a hundred yards away.

Severus shoved the boy to the ground as spells converged on the space where he had been. The Death Eaters' curses ricocheted and hit manor walls, trees, and each other. Severus took a cutting curse to the leg, and his knee buckled beneath him, pain radiating from the wound. He gritted his teeth against it and grabbed the boy by the shirt collar, hauled him to his feet, and pushed him stumbling forward toward a space between Death Eaters that had opened when the curses rebounded.

Rather than just running, Potter swung the wand around and aimed again. He hurled more curses, "Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Petrificus Tot-"

Amazingly, two of the curses found their marks, but then the boy lurched over the uneven ground and lost his footing. A bright band of yellow light slammed into him from the side. He crumpled, and lay still. Momentum made Severus trip over him, but he managed to catch hold of Potter's shirt and yank him up anyway. Though dead weight, the boy was light enough to carry, and Severus staggered forward with his burden, flinging Potter over one shoulder.

He knew that it was lost, that they had lost, and he was known for a spy. Still, he had to try and get them out. Taking possession of his wand once more, he hurled another curse behind him, and one to the side, still grinding forward. If he hadn't had the boy over his shoulder, he might have been able to duck the curse that brought him down at last. But "what ifs" were pointless to consider in the split second between light and darkness, between the struggle to freedom, and the knowledge that he had failed. When he fell, he thrust the boy away, even now hoping to give him those last few feet. But he failed at that as well, and he knew true despair as the high shriek of Bellatrix's laughter assaulted his ears, just before darkness claimed him.

---

Harry woke slowly, and in pain. He could hear voices around him, but could not make out the specifics. His eyes were gummed shut again, though the bandage was gone, as were the special glasses Severus had transformed for him. His head throbbed, and when he touched his temple, his fingers came away sticky with what he assumed was half-congealed blood. The stone floor was cold against his skin, and he realized the worst, perhaps, was that he was completely naked.

There were three, no four others in the room. He didn't know how he knew, any more than he knew how he had been able to sense where the Death Eaters were when he and Snape had been ambushed and pursued across the grounds. He just knew, as if he could see them by the pulse of their magic, even though his eyes couldn't see them. Maybe it was because he couldn't see with his eyes. No matter. He knew Snape was here, too, still unconscious on the floor nearby.

"He's awake," said the high, cold voice he was most dreading, and he focused on that one pulse of magic, felt it ripple across his body like a dark wave, trying to drag him under.

The magic emanating from the wizard pressed on him from all sides, and kept him from drawing a full breath. His scar pulsed in time with the magic, a steady beat of agony. Voldemort took a step closer to him, and Harry forced himself up so he was sitting, brought his knees to his chest for some protection, and stared in the dark wizard's direction.

"You have abused my hospitality, Potter," Voldemort said, and Harry shuddered at the threat in the man's voice. "I am very disappointed."

Harry lifted his chin a little more, not wanting to show fear. "Yeah, well, get used to it," he said, and was gratified to hear the other two in the room, both Death Eaters, he assumed, gasp at his impertinence.

But Voldemort did not rise to the bait. "I am even more disappointed about my potions master's defection, I must admit. I had my suspicions, but . . ."

"Let me kill the traitor for you, my lord," offered an excited voice. Bellatrix. Harry shuddered again, and not from the cold. "Please. I brought him down for you! I should be the one-"

"Silence!" Voldemort roared. "I shall decide who will have the honor of that sweet task, Bella." The man turned briefly, and Harry could sense the build-up of power in him, like a rising tide. "In the meantime, I find I must teach a lesson in manners to our little, blinded friend. Lucius, bring him to me."

Harry sensed Lucius Malfoy approaching, and put his magical signature to memory, as he had with Bellatrix and Voldemort. With a soft chuckle and a whispered, "You're mine, Potter," Malfoy grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair and used it to drag him forward while Harry tried to get his feet under him.

A pointless exercise, as it turned out. The first Crucio had him writhing on the floor, and was a mere taste of what was to come. Snape woke at some point, Harry knew, but could do nothing to aid him, and although Harry tried, for his professor's sake, to hide the waves and crests of pain in that dark cupboard in his mind, it was a near impossible task. Finally, when Voldemort let Lucius rape him, to Bellatrix's jeering catcalls, and then took Harry himself, he broke utterly, screaming and pleading for their mercy.

But they had none.

Afterwards, when his voice was gone, and he was covered in blood, from wounds both internal and external, he could barely remember his name, never mind what made him think he could escape from this monster in the first place. All he knew - all he deserved -- was pain.

---

It was nearly dawn when the boy finally broke. Severus was honestly surprised he had lasted so long. Lying on his side, in a full body bind, he could not turn away, could not even close his eyes to the boy's torment. He knew when Potter realized Severus had woken, knew because of the change in his demeanor, and how he struggled all the harder to remain stoic and separate from the horrors they put him through. Part of him marveled at the very idea that Potter should want to appear brave before his greasy git of a professor, but a larger part of him grieved for what the sadistic bastards did to him.

It wasn't until Lucius and the Dark Lord each took their gruesome pleasure from the boy by force that Potter resorted to begging and sobbing, telling his captors over and over again that he was sorry.

Severus found himself angrier than he had ever been in his life. He had never excelled at wandless magic, though he could do a passable Lumos, and Scourgify. But the unnerving cries of the boy on the floor near him, underscored by the hideous laughter of the madwoman, Bellatrix, drove him to new heights of rage. His magic boiled through him, igniting his blood, his bones, everything. The bonds holding him vanished in an eruption of light and sound, drowning everything else in a roar of thunder, and he flung himself at the boy in the ensuing chaos. He pried a tiny ring off his left pinky, and pressed the stone before jamming the ring into the curl of Potter's fist. If it was going to work it would be in just three seconds, two, one . . .

The boy vanished, very much to his surprise.

Severus bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile and climbed to his feet to face the Dark Lord. Seconds later, he was shocked - but undeniably pleased -- to find Professor McGonagall appear suddenly in front of him and grab his arm. With a familiar tug behind his navel, the Deputy Headmistress' portkey pulled him away.