“20 seconds.” The loud voice told them.

Lucius jumped into action. He banished all but one set of dishes and cast a spell over the other three before pushing them out of the room and running for the front door.

Narcissa had her own wand out and cast a silencing spell and a few disillusionment charms over them. She hurried out of the room with the boys following behind her. A wave of her wand created an opening in a wall that Harry had thought was only a wall.

“GO!”She hissed and made sure that both of them were in before warding the down behind them and then removing the charms to rush to her husband's aid.

The only thing Harry could hear was breathing. The quick, nervous breathing of Draco Malfoy. It sounded off. . . Almost as if he was struggling to get any air in. Harry stood up and touched the wall. Gentle light began to radiate from the ceiling.

The next thing he saw was Draco. The blond boy's hair and clothing was a mess and his eyes were wild. He was breathing in short, gasps, more like panting than anything.

Harry knelt down next to him. He was clutching at his throat now, as if he couldn't breathe. “Relax Draco!” He hissed quietly. “Come on!” He didn't know how to treat a panic attack. He gently began to rub the smaller boy's back. “It'll be all right.” Draco's breathing was slower now.

“Thanks.” Draco whiped his hand across his tear-stained face. He fished into his pocket and came up with a handkerchief, but the thin material didn't actually do any good. He climbed to his feet. “This is one of the safe holes. They're hidden all over the building.”

“From the war?” Harry asked. He didn't know much about the war. Both of his parents had fought in it and it was just one of those things that you didn't mention. He also knew that Lucius Malfoy had fought in the war, but on the other side. Even now things could be difficult between the four friends.

“Yes.” Draco slumped against the wall. “I can't believe this is happening now. I wonder how long we'll have to stay in here?” He looked around the gloomy room. The light wasn't very bright and the walls were plain stone, it made one feel rather claustrophobic.

“My parents will come.” Harry said confidently. Never had his Da failed to save his life or make him suffer through something if there was an alternative. He looked around the room. “Is there anything to eat? I don't think we'll have that dinner any time soon.” He noted, trying to make Draco smile.

But Draco simply shook his head. “Your parents are on their honeymoon. They're too busy to think about you.” He straightened and walked toward the darker areas of the room. When his hand touched the wall the lights in the area did brighten, but it wasn't much.

Harry scowled. He's such a pessimist.  But he followed him deeper into the room. It seemed to be more of a tunnel that followed the corridors of the manor.

“Here.” Draco stopped in front of a small room. It was larger than the rest of the corridor like passages and actually had three walls without exits or entrances. A few small beds laid on the floor, bedclothes were stored in magically sealed bags. A small cook-stove sat in a corner underneath a few shelves of non-perishable food supplies. “Do you know how to cook?”

The only thing Harry had ever done in a kitchen was decorate cookies and pick up food from the house elves. But Draco certainly wasn't going to cook. Harry knelt down and took off one of the food containers. “I think I could make this.” He said, there were instructions on the back and it looked much simpler than most potions.

“Fine. I'll set up beds.” Draco set to opening up the blankets and sheets and laying them out neatly on the thin, wooden beds.

Harry started the stove with the twist of a dial. A light blue flame sprung out of a hole. It was a muggle fire since magic could give away the position of anyone who was trying to hide within the hidden holes. He opened the packet up and poured it into a pot. There wasn't much water though.

He turned to Draco. “Do you know if there's more water?” There was seven large jugs in the room, but only one of them was full, and the water in it was stale and nasty tasting. Harry didn't want to depend on that. But he added the required amount to the soup and hoped that it would turn out.

Draco peered into all of the jugs. “They're all empty!” He exclaimed. “What are we going to do?” He looked as if he might start to cry again.

But Harry stopped him. “Don't cry. You'll just lose water.” He told the other boy. Some of his favourite books were ones about wilderness adventures and he'd also read several books about camping. Tears were moisture. Crying made you lose it, it wasn't a good idea.

“I think the food's done.” Draco pointed to the pot that was starting to boil over. “I hope it's warm.” The stone walls had seemed the perfect temperature at first, but the warmth was quickly leaving their bodies and both boys were starting to shiver slightly.

“Sure.” Harry ladled the soup into two bowls and gave Draco a spoon. The soup was plain potato soup, but it tasted all right. They washed down the food with goblets half full of water. “We've got to ration it.” Harry explained.

Draco nodded and yawned. “I'm going to bed. It should be warmer in there.” He had no nightclothes so he simply crawled into the bed and curled into the blankets.

Harry did the same thing in his own bed. He left the stove on, hoping that it would provide them with a little warmth. Both boys slept. Harry dreamed of thirst and cold.

When they awoke in the morning the stove wasn't burning. In fact, closer examination revealed that the metal was cold and the area that held its fuel was empty.

“You've burned it all!” Draco exclaimed. “Now what are we suppose to eat?” He looked at the shelf of food. “Almost everything has to be cooked!”

That day they eat energy bars. But the bars were stale and hard so the boys used lots of water to wash them down. By the end of the day the jar was almost empty and they were out of energy bars. Even the icky ones made of dried meats were gone. They'd been really hungry.

“Me too.” Harry sighed.  I wish that he would go to sleep so I could have some quiet. He rolled away from Draco and was surprised when the other boy climbed in bed with him.

“Two bodies are warmer than one. And now I've got more blankets.” Draco said as he pulled his bedclothes over the two of them.

“Sure.” Harry yawned and curled into the other boy's warmth.

The next morning neither of them got out of bed. There was no reason to. They were out of water, food and heat. The light was annoying and there was no way to turn it off after you touched the walls. You had to wait for it to time out.

Harry's sense of time disappeared. It was always dark. He didn't spend much time awake any more. It wasn't worth it. Sleeping all the time was better, it helped you feel warmer and you didn't get as hungry or thirty.

“Harry?” Draco's voice was timid and scared.

“Yes Draco?” Harry's voice rasped from the dryness of his throat.

“I'm scared.” Draco whimpered. He wanted his parents and the house elves and the horses. He just wanted to go back to his old life.

“Don't be.” If they got worried then they might cry, and they'd lose water. “Come on Draco. Let's think about our parents. They're going to rescue us.” Harry told him. “What do you think they're doing right now?”

Draco thought for a moment. “They're putting on gear to come find us. Your parents are there too. My mum's opening the entrance. Your Da just cast a spell. It's made a trail of some kind. They're following it. They'll come and find us.” Draco finished.

“Great story.” Harry said. “Happy ending.”

“It's not a story!” Draco insisted. “I can see it!”

Both boys were silent at that. And then Harry could hear it. Voices calling out his name and Draco's. Footsteps coming closer. He wanted to stay awake, see if Draco's story was true. But it was too much work. His eyes slipped closed, he breathed in deeply and fell back into dreams.

His dreams were strange. His father was above him, urging him to breath deeply and drink. Telling him to keep his eyes open. Covering him with warm things. But Harry knew that it had to be a dream, he must still be in the hidden hole. After all only Narcissa could dispel the wards and only Lucius knew how to find the maps to navigate the ancient tunnels.

“Harry.” Someone was calling his name. “Harry.” It was getting louder. “Harry!”

Harry's eyes snapped open and he found himself looking into his father's eyes. “Da!” He cried, or at least he tried to. His throat was so dry that his voice rasped and almost failed him.

“Shush son. It's all right.” Harry could feel his Da's hand rubbing his back. He heard the man's heart beating under his ear and the warmth of his body made Harry feel more alive. A vial was pressed to his lips and the sickly sweet taste of dreamless sleeping potion filled his mouth.

The next time Harry woke up the room was full of light. He recognized the room. It was his own room, in the quarters at Hogwarts. He had been found, it wasn't just a dream. He turned his head and looked around. Blankets were piled high on top of him. He was sweating and uncomfortably warm. It was an amazing sensation.

Harry carefully pushed the blankets off of himself and tried to stand up. But once his head left his pillow and he was almost to a sitting position his head began to hurt so badly that he had to lay back down gasping for breath.

I'll be all right. I'll be all right. He thought, trying simply to reassure himself. There were potions on his bedside table, but he didn't dare take anything without his Da. Potions were dangerous things and he'd no way of knowing what was already in his system.

“Harry?” Someone was sitting on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair.

Harry blinked his eyes open. He'd must have fallen asleep again. “Mum.” Bellatrix smiled and slipped an arm behind his shoulders.

“Let's sit you up.” She said and gently let him sit in an inclined position, leaning back on her. “It'll be all right.” She said.

“Harry.” Severus's face was colder than Harry had ever seen it. “I-I-I thought. . .” He couldn't find the words he needed. Why now? I need to be able to speak to my son. I was so worried. When I felt his magic calling me. . .I though he'd died.

“It's all right.” Severus picked up a goblet full of cool, clear, fresh water. “Have some Harry.” Since Harry's hands were still to weak to hold the goblet steady he carefully held it to his son's lips and let him have small sips.

To Harry the water tasted heavenly. It was so smooth, sliding down his throat like pudding or warm soup on a cold day. And it was fresh. Fresher than he'd ever imagined water could be. Nothing at all like the stale water from the jugs in the hidden holes.

“Good, good.” Severus helped him finish off the last swallow. “Now for some potions.” He looked seriously at Harry. “Will you be able to handle eating?”

Why is everyone treating me like glass? I can handle food and I can hold my own cup!