Lucius Malfoy was coming to Number Four, Privet Drive. Oh God, Lucius Malfoy was going to be invited into Number Four, meaning that there was no way the Blood Wards could hold! There was no way in one million years that Malfoy would come to a Muggle neighbourhood of his own volition, therefore there was only one reason he could be there in the first place; Harry. And here he was, locked up by his own relatives, ready for the taking!

Harry allowed his panic to overtake him for a whole five seconds before getting himself under control. It didn’t matter how it had happened; all that mattered was that it was happening now. And that Harry had to get out of there. Fast.

Malfoy – and the woman Harry assumed was his wife – were closer now, and, in his fear, Harry could see their faces become crystal sharp through the window. Right. Time to run. Harry snatched up his wand. Time was of the essence, and who cared if they expelled him from Hogwarts? Living like a Muggle was better than being dead.

“Reducio! Reducio! Reducio!” All around the bedroom Harry’s belongings shrank, becoming miniscule enough to be shoved in his trunk without any difficulty. Panting with panic, eyes swimming, Harry grabbed everything that was his – and, accidently, some of Dudley’s old things – off shelves, out of the wardrobe, and out from underneath the wooden floorboard.

Nearly there, nearly there, nearly there, was the litany running through Harry’s head. He wrenched the door to Hedwig’s cage open, let her out, and then shrunk that too, slamming the lid of the trunk on top of his things, before making it small enough to fit in his pocket. Now the only things left in the room, apart from the furniture, were Hedwig, the Invisibility Cloak, Harry’s wand, and Harry himself. Harry cursed himself for locking his broom into the trunk. He hadn’t noticed at the time, and it was too late to change it now.

“Don’t go out yet, girl,” Harry whispered to Hedwig. “We don’t want them knowing which room’s ours. Go straight to the Burrow after you’ve left. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Hedwig nodded silently, yellow eyes glittering in terrible anticipation. Holding his breath, Harry crept towards the Shadow-less window, and peeped out. The Malfoys were closer than he thought. Harry’s hands began to shake. Will I make it out of here in time?

Nearly there, nearly there, nearly there. The words thundered along with his pulse once again, except that, this time, they were no longer to mark how many things Harry had yet to pack, but how close the Malfoys were, and how long it would be until he could escape.

Harry bit down hard on his lip, and his hands twisted frantically in the front of his T-shirt. Why can’t I calm down? I’ve faced worse things than this. I’m not defenceless. But Harry couldn’t calm himself. Maybe it was the waiting; the terrible waiting to decide his fate. What if the Malfoys cast some kind of Impervious Charm on the house, and then I can’t get out? Oh for pity’s sake, stay still!

Harry forced himself into stillness. The Malfoys were three steps away, two steps, one step… A knock, a pause, and then the door opening, and Uncle Vernon’s loud voice carrying up the stairs: “Come in, come in, do! May I take your coats?” The front door closed. p>

Harry didn’t wait any longer. Thanking anyone who might be listening that Uncle Vernon hadn’t replaced the prison bars that had been in place outside this very window when Harry was twelve, he flung open the window,  mouthed ‘Go!’ to Hedwig, and ducked as she shot out into the night sky. Wasting no time, Harry tucked his wand in close to his body, wrapped the Invisibility Cloak tightly around himself, and leapt out after his owl, his ears ringing with Lucius Malfoy’s latest words: “May I use your bathroom? Just upstairs, is it?”

Harry hit the ground like a stone before rolling over and over, trying to absorb the impact, mouth stretched in a silent scream as he felt his left ankle snap.

Have to get up! Have to get up, Harry! Hurry, hurry, hurry! The words helped drown out the pain, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins helped him surge to his feet, albeit lopsidedly. Can’t use the Knight Bus, too risky, they may follow! Come on, Harry, hurry!

Limping towards Magnolia Crescent, his eyes watering and his vision blurring during every step taken on his bad ankle, Harry thought out the rest of his hastily concocted escape plan. I have to get to the end of Magnolia Crescent, then down Hammond’s Street, and then straight through the large park at the end… Harry’s breath caught urgently as his foot twisted on a loose paving stone before his panicked review continued. Oh! Oh, that hurts! Then after the park I have to go as far as I can out through those side streets. They’ll be expecting me to head for the middle of London, and the Leaky Caldron, instead of the outskirts. Then I’ll get my broom out and fly back into London again. Hopefully by then they’ll think I’ve decided not to go to the Leaky Cal… Ow! Ow! Ow! Caldron.

Halfway down Magnolia Crescent, Harry heard a loud shout carry through the night air, and causing him to double his pace to a kind of hop-run. Sweat ran down his face, and the adrenaline that had begun to wear off, and make him really feel the pain in his leg, came rushing back full force. They would be looking for him now, and, Invisibility Cloak or no, he had to be far away before they found any kind of lead on him apart from the open window.

Fisting the waist of his jeans on the left hand side, he used the extra leverage to help swing his injured leg forward without it taking too much of the impact. He was almost at the end of the long road of Magnolia Crescent now. His face set itself into determined lines. I will make it, I will! I swear on the power of my Mother’s love that I will live long enough to find my Father!

HPSSHPSSHPSS

The sensation faded as quickly as it had overtaken him, and Severus was left standing, alone in his laboratory, with silence resounding in his ears. Panting slightly, he straightened himself and looked around. Nothing seemed to be out of place. The pristine surfaces were clear of simmering caldrons that might have produced strange fumes to affect him so. The only full caldron in the whole of the cool, dungeon laboratory was the one directly in front of him that he had been about to decant into the now splintered beaker. But that one had cooled long ago, and should not have caused him to have such a reaction.

Leaning forward carefully, he placed his nose directly over the caldron, and sniffed. Nothing happened. Severus shook his head in disgust. Magic. Can’t live with it, can’t live without it.

He quickly cast Reparoon the beaker, and floated it over to the sink to be sterilised. He was about to take another beaker off the nearest shelf when a magically amplified voice reverberated throughout his house.

"SEVERUS SNAPE! I NEED YOU TO FLOO THROUGH TO MY OFFICE WITH ALL DUE SPEED!”

Severus jumped violently, and then scowled at the beaker that he had his hand wrapped around. Good thing he hadn’t lifted off the shelf yet, or that would have been the second he’d destroyed that day. Sighing, he snatched a white rag up off the sideboard, wiping his hands and giving his caldron a last mournful look before he exited the room.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Severus wondered what breed of calamity could have Albus Dumbledore in such a state. The answer came to Severus almost immediately; Potter. Swearing viciously, Severus redoubled his efforts to get to the living room. I knew I should have listened to my instincts last night, I just knew it!

Storming into the living room, Severus chucked the rag in his hands onto the couch, grabbed a handful of glittering powder off the mantelpiece and followed it into the fireplace, disappearing in a flash of green flame.

A few seconds later the spinning stopped, and Severus swept from the Floo into the Headmaster’s office. “Albus? What is it? Is it Potter?”

Dumbledore’s sharp nod confirmed his worst fears which were reinforced a moment later when he realised the Headmaster had his travelling cloak at hand.

"There is an emergency at the Ministry, and something is seriously wrong with the wards around Privet Drive. I believe the two to be connected. I am afraid my presence is urgently required at the Ministry, and as you are the only Order member available at such short notice, I need you to go to Privet Drive and get Harry away. Hide him in your house, and I will come to you the second I am free to explain things. Do you understand?” The Headmaster hadn’t stood still once all through this speech; collecting cloak, hat, wand and other assorted oddments. Severus stood in awe of the energy for a second before realising what Dumbledore had said. Potter? At his house?

“Severus, you must do this! It is of the utmost importance for Harry’s well-being and the rest of the Wizarding World! Severus, I need you to protect him!”

What was going on? “I… Of course.”

“Thank you, my dear boy.” And in a flash of fire, the Headmaster was gone.

Potter, Privet Drive, right! Severus snatched up more Floo powder and Floo-ed through to the Three Broomsticks. Not wanting to waste time on the Muggles, Severus cast a Disillusionment Charm upon himself before Apparating to Surrey.

Severus regained his balance and crept forward to peer in through the window of Number Four. The scene that greeted him was the last one he would ever have expected to see.

Narcissa Malfoy stood in the middle of the kitchen, dressed in Muggle clothes, and was pointing a wand towards three very frightened Muggles. Severus gasped and placed a hand against the side of the house to steady himself. Narcissa is here, which means Lucius is also close by. Severus felt a twinge of pity for the Muggles cowering in their own home before an even bigger realisation hit him. He was touching the house that was warded to repel anyone who had not been whole-heartedly invited in by the people who lived there.

Severus stared in horror. This could only mean one thing; Potter had left Privet Drive with no intention of returning. And who could blame him with the likes of the Malfoys rampaging through his supposed safe-house? Severus whirled away. Where to go? Where to go?

A fluttering caught his eye, and Severus looked up to see part of a curtain flapping in the breeze, out of a window that was opened unnaturally wide.

He jumped! Potter jumped! Merlin only knows how he didn’t break his fool neck! Severus hurried over to the area below the window, and sure enough, the grass was flattened and scuffed as though someone had rolled over and over. Severus followed the path it made, staring at footprints that had dented the grass. There were two sets; one created by something small with an irregular gait, the second made by something larger with a longer stride.

Severus tore off in the direction they both seemed to lead in; towards the much longer street connected at right-angles to Privet Drive. Looking both ways, he caught sight of someone to his left, who was wearing a Muggle business suit, about halfway down the street.

Severus levelled his wand at the figure. Hex first, ask questions later! he thought as he hissed “Stupefy!”

There was a muffled yell, and a thump. Severus sprinted, still invisible, down the street, rolled the figure over and looked into the unconscious face of Lucius Malfoy.

Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerous!” Severus smirked at his handiwork before rolling Malfoy under a bush and casting a Concealment Charm. Nobody would be finding him until Severus came back for him.

Severus stepped back onto the pavement and strode off in the direction Malfoy had been heading in. Now, if only I could find Potter…