Why does my head feel like one of Hagrid’s pets stomped on it? Severus sat up carefully, squinting against the firelight. Where am I? This certainly isn’t Hogwarts, and it’s not one of the Dark Lords holdings, either. Not one I know of, anyway. That thought didn’t bring pleasant feelings, and he forced himself to stand. As he took in the wilderness around him, the only sign of civilization being a single ring of stones containing a small fire, his memories of the past few hours came back with a force. The children playing on the Quidditch field, sending them back to their rooms, a scream in the forest, Potter disobeying and following him to the unicorn’s corpse, the dark magic and a feeling of falling…Potter. “Potter? Potter, where are you?”

“Professor? Professor, you’re awake!”

The boy appeared from behind him, a few broken sticks under one arm. “What is going on here?”

“I—I’m piling up some wood for the fire. It was starting to get dark when I woke up…I built it up as best I could, but we’ll need more to make it through the night.”

“What do you mean, ‘getting dark when you woke up’? It was dark when we….” He frowned slightly. “It was already night when we arrived.”

“You’ve been asleep for at least a day, Professor,” Potter said awkwardly. “I only woke up four or five hours ago, so I’m not sure exactly how long it’s been since we got here.”

“Wonderful. What is our situation?”

“Situation?”

Even more wonderful, the child had no knowledge of survival tactics whatsoever. “What do you know about where we are? What supplies do we have?”

“Um…a forest? My broom made it, but yours is pretty banged up. I got it to lift off, but I don’t think it will stay up very long. I’ve got my wand…”

“As do I.” He’d confirmed that as soon as he’d awoken. “I also have several potion vials, unfortunately empty, and a few collecting tools. Do you have anything else?” He saw the corpse of the unicorn off to one side, but he didn’t think anything remained there that he could use in a potion. Even the long hairs in the mane that could be used for spells were gone.

“Part of a deck of wizard cards…I had to use a couple of them to get the fire going.”

At least the brat managed that…and there is a circle of stones and the fire pit seems cleared of brush so it shouldn’t set the area on fire. He glanced up, but a canopy covered the sky. He walked towards one of the clumps of brush.

“Professor?”

“I am attempting to determine more information about our current location beyond, ‘a forest,’ he returned snidely. “You might not be able to tell rosemary from thistle without your little friends to help you, but I certainly can.”

“You think you can tell where we are just by looking at the plants?”

“I believe that is what I just said, Mr. Potter. Tend your fire, I’ll be back momentarily.”

“I…you might not want to go very far in.”

“And just why is that?”

“There are…things…in there,” came the hesitant reply. “And some of them are big things, I think.”

“Wonderful. Stay close to the fire.” Wand in hand, he moved towards some of the smaller bushes. He would start with them, and fly up and examine some of the tree leaves later if necessary. There…those leaves were distinctive…herbology hadn’t been his favorite subject in school, but since he needed plants for his potions he’d learned it better than most average students. He plucked a stalk, bringing it up to eye level. Golden threads with red veins and a distinctive od— He dropped it, turning back to the boy. “Potter, how much have you been using your magic?”

“What? Um, I flew a little bit to make sure the brooms still worked, and then I started the fire…I don’t know any good communications spells so I didn’t try that.”

“Just as well. Put out your fire, we need to be moving. And not with that.” He nodded sharply at the boy’s wand.

“Why not?”

“Because if I am correct about our location, those ‘things’ as you so eloquently put it were likely drawn here by magic, and they aren’t the sort we wish to encourage.” He was strongly tempted to take the brat’s wand—following orders is hardly his strong point—but if they ran into a situation where he had to defend himself…So help me, if he brings those creatures down on us, I’ll hex him into oblivion myself.

“You know where we are?”

“An approximation, at least. We’re somewhere in the northern portion of Brazil.”

“Where!”

Bright Merlin, doesn’t he know anything? “It is a country in South America, Mr. Potter, I assume even a muggle geography class would have covered that much. Granted that assumes that you actually pay atten—”

“I know where Brazil is,” Potter interrupted indignantly. “But you mean we’re in the middle of the Amazon jungle?”

“So it would seem. Now put out the fire and grab your broom.”

“Why can’t I use magic?”

“There are things in the jungle that are drawn to magic…I imagine that the sheer power that dropped us here has most of them intimidated, but they won’t stay that way for long.”

“Unfriendly creatures?”

No, they’re all fluffy and cute, that’s why I want to be far away before they come. Honestly, of all the people to be stuck in…here…with. At least Longbottom would be too intimidated to be irritating. “Your ability to question the obvious astounds me, Mr. Potter. Put. Out. The. Fire.”

“Yes, Professor.”

The boy turned his back, kicking dirt over the ring of stones and smothering the flames. Severus retrieved their brooms, checking them over himself. They boy was right…there aside from a few broken twigs the boy’s broom looked in fair condition, but his own had lost nearly half its bristles and there was a suspicious looking crack making its way down the shaft. I wonder how close we are to the edge of the jungle…if we could get to some sort of settlement, we might be able to get transportation to somewhere on the floo network. He knew there was a fairly large wizarding population in Rio de Janeiro, but that was in the south…surely there would be someone in closer cities who could help them. “I don’t suppose you speak Spanish or Portuguese?” he asked absently.

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t expect that you would.”

“The fire is out.”

“I can see that. Under normal circumstances I would suggest determining where we are before selecting a direction, however right now I believe speed is of the essence. Come.”

They walked in blessed silence for several minutes, until Potter’s natural idiocy decided that it had remained dormant long enough for one night. “How did we get to Brazil?”

“I believe it must have been a Portgate,” Severus replied after a moment.

“Is that like a Portkey?”

“Similar, although as you may have noticed the effects of transportation are considerably less pleasant. As opposed to an enchantment on an object, it is an enchantment on a particular area of space. This one appears to have been timed rather than word-activated.”

“But why Brazil?”

“Well, I suppose they could have sent us on a nice vacation to the coast of Spain, but if we were there we’d have the benefits of civilization—food, water, communication—and besides which, there we wouldn’t have the added pleasures of several magic-sensitive beasts who’d be more than happy to make us their dinner.” And it wasn’t just the magical creatures they needed to watch out for.

“Leithfolds are from the tropics, right? And Peruvian Vipertooths…Viperteeth?”

“Leithfolds, certainly, but Peruvian Vipertooths—Viperteeth would imply that they have multiple sets of their most distinctive feature—are native to Peru.” Imagine that. “Besides which, I believe they are partial to mountains rather than jungles. There are also several varieties of large cats, the wyrsa…”

“What’s a wyrsa?”

“Amazing, an almost impossibly dangerous magical creature that Rubeus isn’t keeping as a pet.” The boy’s huffed but didn’t actually say anything in defense of the gameskeeper. Also amazing, the brat is developing common sense. And it’s hardly as if it isn’t true… He switched to his lecturing voice. “There are two varieties of wyrsa, the black wyrsa and the white wyrsa. It is believed that they were once a single species, bred by a rather deranged wizard at some point in the distant past as guards for his estate. Unfortunately, he apparently lost control of his experiment…in the version of the tale I read, they turned on their master, ate him, and then escaped into the jungle where they eventually split into the two breeds. The black wyrsa are the less dangerous version…as large as small ponies but much thinner. They’re built along the lines of tall, thin dogs I believe, although they have scales rather than fur. The main danger with the black is their pack mentality. Physically, they have large teeth and claws and a limited ability to mesmerize their victims, but if you even injure one, the rest will hunt you until you die or you’ve exterminated the entire pack.”

“So we shouldn’t injure any of them?”

I believe I just said that. “Not unless we have no other options. If we are attacked we will be at a serious disadvantage—both species are impervious to magical attacks. They feed on the energy as easily as on flesh, and they can sense when it is being performed.”

The boy frowned. “So that’s why you wanted to leave so quickly. What about the white wyrsa?”

“The white are considerably more dangerous. They are smaller…the size of large greyhounds, and similar in form, although they also have scales. Also pack hunters, but not as closely knit, their claws and teeth are loaded with paralytic poison. And I have heard that their ability to mesmerize is considerably more developed. The most popular theory is that the black are actually a devolved version of the white—in fact there has been no confirmed sighting of a white wyrsa in over two hundred years.”

“You think they might be extinct?” Potter asked.

“The jungle is large, Mr. Potter. I would prefer not to speculate. Especially about a species that dangerous.” The light filtering through the canopy above had dimmed to almost nothing as they’d spoken…what little the moon was giving off was being masked by the trees. Watch your step, neither of us can afford twisted ankles.”

“So what should we do if we are attacked?” Potter asked. “I’m guessing we can’t just outrun them.”

A legitimate question, Severus had to admit, he just wished he had a better answer than he did. “As I recall, you managed to mount your broom rather quickly last autumn during that fiasco of a tournament…I suppose we’ll see if you can manage the same without an approving audience to cheer you on.” As our only other option involves throwing rocks and sticks, I suppose he will have to.

Potter’s head had dropped slightly at the mention of the tournament, but at least he didn’t have any snide comments on the legitimacy of the plan. “Why don’t we just fly...oh, I forgot about your broom.”

And in less than half-an-hour, too. “I will worry about that, Mr. Potter.”

“You know how to repair brooms?”

“I certainly wouldn’t consider mucking about with it if I did not, however now is not the time and this is certainly not the place. Besides which, flying about in the dark is inviting an injury that we are in no position to deal with.” Tomorrow, if he could find some time, he would do what he could to bind the crack and replace the twigs. If the enchantment has failed I do not have the expertise to replace it, but if only the balance is affected I should be able to effect temporary repairs. “If you were also asleep for most of an entire day, I assume you will be able to continue walking through the night?”

“I’ll be fine, Professor. Are you okay? It didn’t look like you hit your head, but you were asleep for longer than me…”

Severus suspected that had been because his body had taken advantage of the unconsciousness brought on by the unorthodox method of transportation to make up for the rest he hadn’t been getting in previous nights, but there was no point in telling that to the brat matching pace beside him. “I assure you I am fine.”

“So…this Portgate that brought us here. How did they know that we were going to investigate?”

“I think we can safely assume that they did not know we would be investigating, otherwise the Portgate would have taken us straight to the Dark Lord. Although I seem to recall that you were not supposed to be there in the first place.”

“I’m sorry, okay. I just felt the magic and I wanted to know what was happening!”

Bloody Gryffindor stupidity. He shook his head. “Quite frankly, I doubt the spell was intended to entrap anyone. The death of a unicorn—the murder of a unicorn—is…obscene. What they did…what they took…the entire magical community would be up in arms. And people would know that the Dark Lord now had unicorn parts for his spells. I suspect it was simply an attempt to get rid of the evidence…that magic had been performed they couldn’t hope to hide, but once a Portgate has dissolved it cannot be traced by any means that I know of.”

“And who’d think to look for anything in the middle of the Amazon,” Potter said after a moment.

“Precisely.” The boy fell silent, for which Severus was grateful. The last few questions he had come up with had at least been reasonable, but he wasn’t interested in having a deep conversation with one of the banes of his existence somewhere in the jungle of a continent he’d never had the desire to visit. They would need to make plans when it began to get light tomorrow…food and water would be necessary, as well as some indication of where they were and where they should be going. If he could get his broom repaired, they could perhaps fly up through the canopy and reach some sort of hum—

“P-Professor?”

“What?”

“It just got…quiet.”

He opened his mouth to make a rude comment about noisy students interrupting his introspections, but realized suddenly that the brat was right. The twittering of insects and birds and…things, from the canopy above had ceased. And it was decidedly unlikely that he and his student, two scrawny, soft-shelled creatures a hundred feet below them, were the cause. “Be ready, Mr. Potter.” He could feel the boy press against his side, gripping his broom in his off hand.

“What do you think it is?”

He didn’t respond immediately, gripping his wand in one hand and his broom in the other. “Something predatory, I assume.” He couldn’t make out much of anything in the darkness…there could be a panther in the shadows at his feet and he wouldn’t know about it. “Lumos!” The yelp of surprise from the teenager made him wonder if he shouldn’t have given the boy some warning of his intentions first, but it was too late to worry about that now. The light from his wand gleamed intensely—even he’d had to close his eyes at first and he had known it was coming—but in the fifteen foot circle it illuminated he could see nothing unusual. He considered expanding the radius, but he didn’t want to give out more of a magical signature than he already had.

“I don’t see anything, sir.”

“Neither do I.” He banished the light, unwilling to draw further attention to them, and blinked away the spots it left in his vision. As disconcerting as being unable to see more than a few feet in front of them clearly was, it was worse having a well-illumined circle with a wall of black beyond it. “Keep wal—”

An unearthly shriek from above them had his wand up and a blasting spell half-invoked before he realized that whatever had made the noise was well up in the canopy and no immediate threat. Just as well he hadn’t completed it…Potter had brought a shielding spell up just as quickly and anything he’d aimed would have been blasted right back at them. Potter had apparently realized that as well. “Sorry, Professor,” he muttered.

Don’t be, it’s the most sensible reflex I’ve seen out of you in all your years at Hogwarts. Not that he planned on telling the brat that…his head was swelled enough as it was. “Perhaps some coordination, next time.”

“Y-yeah.”

He could feel the boy easing away from his side slightly as the noises resumed in the canopy above them—apparently whatever predator was up there was no longer a threat now that it had dinner. They continued walking. “I doubt that Umbridge has covered anything particularly useful in the past few weeks, so where, precisely, did you learn to cast a shielding spell at that speed?” Not that he’d been impressed, of course, but he couldn’t remember anyone boasting about that particular ability in the Golden Boy last year.

“Professor Lupin helped me when he was here, and he sends me books he thinks might be useful sometimes…other than that I just practiced, I guess.”

“I wasn’t aware that the ban on underage magic had been lifted.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been. I…”

He trailed off, and Severus glanced over at his form. He appeared to be studying the ground rather intensely, especially considering he couldn’t see anything down there. “I believe I asked you a question, Mr. Potter.”

“I practiced with a laser pointer. Over the summer. It was my cousins, but I found it when I was doing laundry and he never noticed it was missing, so when they were all gone I practiced drawing it and saying the spells. As soon as I finished the incantations I pushed the button so I could see where the laser was pointing…make sure I was aiming right and everything. After I got back I practiced some with Hermione and Ron to make sure I was saying everything right…mostly I was.”

“Indeed.” Apparently the brat wasn’t as inept in Defense as he was in Potions…just as well, considering his ‘destiny.’ “Precisely how many shielding spells do you know?”

“Counting that one? Five, I think. That was my best, though.”

“And what, precisely, is a ‘laser pointer’?” A muggle device, of some sort, no doubt…he wasn’t overly familiar with the muggle world and certainly hadn’t kept abreast of their technological developments in the last fifteen years.

“Well, the one I used was the kind that goes on a keychain so it was really little, but they’re little tubes that cast pinpoints of light. You can’t point them at people’s eyes unless you want to burn their eyeballs, though.”

A rather ineffective method of defending oneself if you had to be certain of hitting such an uncertain target as the center of your attacker’s eyes, Severus mused. Although to disable someone who wasn’t expecting it…. “And many muggles carry these?”

“Kids do, sometimes. They’re mostly banned at schools because they annoy the teachers—that’s about the only things they really do do besides point—but I guess they’re kind of cool to have. I think Dudley got his from my uncle, he uses them in presentations at work.”

Severus had a disturbing mental image of groups of muggles standing in auditoriums waving lighted sticks and burning each others’ eyes as they gestured at random items, but banished it firmly from his mind. Muggles were a strange lot in general. His father had—That thought was also cut off abruptly. “Keep walking, Mr. Potter. And if I ever catch you using this ‘laser pointer’ in my classroom…” he trailed off, leaving the threat unvoiced. No doubt the boy could think of several unpleasant possibilities.

The next several hours passed in relative silence—twice more sounds in the canopy above had ceased and they’d frozen, backs against a tree trunk, waiting for them to resume. “I think it’s getting lighter,” Potter commented, startling Severus slightly.

“So it appears.” He heard a rumble from beside him and realized that it was the boy’s stomach. A teenager. Wonderful. They only require twice their weight in food a day. “I believe our best bet will be to get up into the canopy today. There should be plenty of branches large enough to stand on.” Large enough to walk on, even, if his memories of what he’d read about the jungle were correct. The size of the tree trunks around them seemed to support that.

“But…that’s where all the sounds came from,” Potter objected.

“I am aware of that, but even so I think that is the best place to start looking for edible vegetation. Plants do need sunlight. And in order to even begin to determine our location, we need to be able to see the sky.”

Potter glanced around, obviously taking in the same thick brush and huge tree trunks that Severus had been staring at. “All right. Do we just…climb?”

“I wish to attempt to repair my broom first…while I would prefer to avoid using magic as long as possible, I want a second way down.” The light was growing stronger, and he took a seat on a log near one of the tree trunks. “While I do this, find a way to secure our brooms to our backs while we climb.”

Potter nodded, tugging at the plants surrounding them. “Do you have a knife? Or anything with a sharp edge?”

Severus frowned for a moment, and then offered him the collecting knife from the inner pouch of his cloak. “Do you believe that the fibers are strong enough to bind the wood to us?” He could see even from where he sat that they clearly weren’t think enough. Honestly, do I he have to do everything?

“No, Professor.” The boy sat down, tugging off his cloak and setting the blade against the bottom. “But this will be. It’s a little too long anyway.” He worked surprisingly efficiently, tearing off a couple strips and creating a bind around the tail of the broom that fed across and around his shoulders so it wouldn’t slip out while he was climbing. A quick test proved that he could also wear it while walking, although the head of the broom dragged slightly. “Can I…?” He motioned towards Severus.

“Can you what?”

“I have to measure it to make it fit right,” the boy explained awkwardly.

“Fine.” He turned, holding still while the boy twisted two more strips of cloth around his shoulders. “Where did you learn to make those?”

“Dudley always ripped his backpack straps up…tore the stitching, lost the clamps, that kind of thing. He’s pretty fat. I had to fix them if I wanted to use them, so….” Potter shrugged. “It’s not that much different, just this time I’m tying the straps around the broom instead of putting them back on the pack.”

“And why were you taking your cousin’s things instead of using what your loving relatives got for you?”

Potter shrugged. “The backpacks were in pretty good condition—he sure never carried books in them—all I had to do was fix the straps. No reason to get a new one.”

Severus opened his mouth to respond and abruptly shut it again. There wasn’t much he could say to that. At least he isn’t wasteful. He glanced back down at the broom in his hands. It would never truly be the same again, but he’d used a strip of his own cloak to keep the crack from spreading down the broom, and dried material in the forest floor filled out the tail. Enough to restore at least minimal balance, he hoped. Fitting it into the tangle of cloth the boy handed him, Severus settled the entire thing on his back and turned to glance up at the tree he’d been sitting against. “Shall we?”