A/N: The sequel is up- please drop some mail in my box and feed me with your beautiful thoughts and ideas! A big thank you to hazeldragon and oncecelestial being for their constant support.

SM ~

{Disclaimer: The originals of this belong to JKR}

A few brief reminders:

This story is slightly AU, and I will be taking and adding details from the original series as I see fit, so if you spot an error, that appears to be a mistake due to not looking at the original carefully enough, please note that it is, rather, an author's liberties, which can of course be seen as error, depending on the creative mind =)

This is not going to be a slash story.

Chapter 1 -

Dark Omens ~

The sky was dark and overcast. He didn't think that there was any way that it would clear itself, and it would certainly not- what could they possibly do about any of this? Harry Potter felt as though he was melting beneath a roaring flame, never mind the fact that the air was cold . . . he was freezing, actually. He glanced at Hermione, and noticed that her teeth were chattering. She huddled closer to Ron. The cavern was completely silent. Not a pin-drop could be heard. It was a long, hard and tiring day which they had undergone . . . yet, he didn't really think they had gone through it. Everything had been a dream. Shadowy and so terribly overcast. Something was wrong. He slid along the wet slab of stone on which he was sitting, pressing his fingers into the crevices, trying to figure out exactly what had caused them all to sit upon these dull pieces of rock, rocks that were so damp they- seeped into his skin. Harry burrowed his head into his arms. Would anything ever free him from the amount of guilt which plagued him everyday like a pile of thick, stringy moss, which would never bring him any peace?

It wasn't likely. But then, nothing was ever really likely, so he couldn't complain that much. It was a bit like . . . well, he didn't know. He didn't know about anything. Professor Dumbledore had spoken to everyone about the potential problems that they were likely to encounter while residing within this distanced abode, and yet Harry still could not bring himself to feel anything save for a sense of fervent danger, a furious strife that sliced through him and cut down all of his friends- each night in his dreams this is what he felt, and saw. He woke up sweating, and aching, with chills running up and down his spine. Wind whistled throughout the silent cavern now, creating something akin to howling wolves that were coming to ravage all of them.

"Are you alright, Harry?" It was Hermione. Across the room, Snape observed the four of them with a stony, but removed expression. He didn't know how to answer her. Eventually he said,

"Yes," dully.

"It's chilly in here," Ron muttered. The magically lit fire had died down for just a few minutes, yet no one had bothered to re-light it. Without speaking, Snape flicked his wand upward, causing the flames to roar back to life.

"Thank you," Hermione murmured. Upon his face was an orange glow that made him shine like a deathly omen, coming through the blackness to devour them. And then he moved back further into the shadows. "Professor?" She asked tentatively. His black eyes sought hers out through the gloom. Now the rain beyond the cave was thundering madly, forcing them to gather closer to the fire- everyone save for Snape.

"What is it, Granger?"

"I was just curious as to whether- Professor Dumbledore had told us that he would be back by the nighttime, but he isn't here."

"Obviously," he sneered. She lowered her head a little, as Ron glared at Snape reproachfully. He stared at them across the room for a minute. "I do not know where the headmaster has gone," he said through extremely tight lips, now looking off in the other direction.

"Sir . . . did he say what his mission was concerning?" Harry asked while he tossed glances at Ron and Hermione as though he were trying to silently communicate with them. Hermione's eyes became a bit sharper as she observed the potions professor more closely. Snape was examining his fingers with some amount of interest.

"The only information that I gleaned from the headmaster was that he was seeking another source in which is located red magic. He did not say anything else to me." Harry had the impression that he regretted this. He saw that Hermione was watching them both curiously, and he thought that Snape noticed it too, for he refrained from saying anything else to him. Harry scooted towards the fire closer to his friends.

It was so warm in his current spot that he didn't even realize that he had his hand tucked underneath Ron's pant leg, until he looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Harry, immediately becoming aware of his proximity to his friend, blushed to the root of his hair and moved away quickly, while Ron shifted as well, uneasily. Across from them, Snape said snidely,

"Shall I place protective space charms upon the three of you, in addition to charming the magical fire?" Now utterly humiliated, and, Harry was sure, his friends were as well as he was, they all scooted even a little further away from each other. Suddenly, Hermione burst out,

"This is ridiculous! Professor, we weren't doing anything crass. Harry just-"

"Hermione," Harry and Ron groaned in unison. The corner of the right side of Snape's mouth quirked upward, though Harry had no inkling as to what this could mean. A minute later however, his white pallid face was again cold, and implacable. In fact, he thought he could detect a slight trace of anger in it-

"You need to occlude Potter," he said in a low murmur, almost hissing. Harry was growing weary of all of the whispers. He almost wished that Snape would start yelling so that he could hear something other than the dripping water in the cavern.

"I can't occlude," he shot back, after gathering his courage. The potions master simply stared at him. They refused to break eye contact with each other, until, very slowly, Harry finally lowered his head.

"Alright." Ron and Hermione exchanged incredulous glances. Neither of them had any inkling as to what had actually just taken place.

"One," Snape whispered in a venomous snarl, that sounded like a lethal snake driving its venom through his veins, making him shiver again, "two- three. Legilimens!" Harry's mind was assaulted with a ferocity that he had never imagined, and it was so painful that it made his head begin to pound. Snape was attacking him, with a vigor that was so strong that it erased any time spent with the potions master previously in their practice sessions- he had never been so brutal, or so forceful. The images that swam in front of his eyes were brought to life, and he could practically reach out and touch Sirius as he gave him a one-armed hug at Grimmauld Place, a few days after Christmas- that was the time at which Mr. Weasely had been attacked by the snake he had seen in his nightmare. After what seemed to be only a few seconds of this, a new vision plagued his eyes and made them ooze with pain- the eye sockets were quite probably blown. Something was tearing at his head, and he was seeing spots, because Sirius was looking at him, right before his fall . . . and now he heard his mother screaming.

"No, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, silly girl, stand aside. Stand aside, now."

"No! Please- take me instead!"

"This is your last warning . . . "

"No!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

And suddenly, as soon as it had started, everything was over. Harry was lying upon the hard, wet ground, with no notion as to how he had arrived there- he was floating upon mere space for several moments. He could hear a couple of voices, intermingling with each other, vaguely, far into the distance, but he had no ideas as to what the message they were trying to convey was- was there any such thing as messages? Perhaps they were merely the imprints which belong to ghosts. And then his right shoulder was lifted, a steely hand clamped down upon his arm. He really should be more accustomed to gnarly jagged nails that bit into his flesh with- what was the phrase that Snape used? Sufficient ease . . .

"Come on. Get up, Potter." He shook his head, so slowly that it seemed to hurt it even more. The act made him feel as if his head was actually positioned upon his spinal cord, more in the fashion of a bridge, one that was broken. It was about to break.

"Come on, Potter. Harry . . . " He blinked. He knew that voice. But, Snape wasn't actually calling him- ?

"You're calling me Harry," he said hoarsely. There was a dry cough, very slight, as though it didn't want to be recognized as a cough.

"Yes, well. Stop acting as though you are an utter imbecile then, and get up, Potter." He swallowed over a wad of cotton that had somehow lodged itself into his throat, and stared up at Snape's oblique, solid dark eyes. A mass of orange hair and bushy brown tendrils were swarming somewhere above his head. His put his arms over his eyes and muttered to Ron,

"Your hair's too bright." His friend chuckled, but it wasn't a comforting, light laugh- there was nothing gay about this environment, or the circumstance. He heard Hermione ask Snape why he had done it, sounding absolutely livid, and that, he mused to himself through his daze, might have been worth the effort, in days that were a bit brighter . . .

"How dare you! What were you thinking? Professor Snape, Harry hasn't been seeing- " Harry waved a hand up in front of her face to stall her, keeping the other one over his eyelids to block out any streaming light.

"No, Hermione, you're wrong about that, actually- " He took a deep breath. "I see visions constantly. I-I think Voldemort has infiltrated my head." There was a pause. He thought he felt, rather than witnessed the potions master straighten.

"Do you have anything else to add, Ms. Granger?" he asked in her in an odd, heavily ironic, and cynical sneer. When she didn't say anything, he added, "perhaps Mr. Potter can fill you in on the details, then." Then he waved his wand and muttered a complicated spell. The pounding in Harry's head immediately was lifted.

"Thanks," he said. Snape had already crossed to the other side of the dark cavern.

"Hey- would you guys- help me up?" As they both reached an arm out to attend him, Harry could feel the strain of his previous dark mind fade away, and he wondered at this current moment how he could have felt so strangely heavy and so melancholy, just moments ago. He hadn't even realized what had happened, or that he hadn't been occluding. He chanced to open his eyes as his friends drug him over to the wall opposite of Snape, where they had previously been sitting together before Snape had stoked the fire back into its short life (short because it had died down, yet again, into only a few charred, sticks-) and attempted to prop him up. Harry made a furious effort to hold himself upright. He could feel beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.

"Thanks," he forced out, his voice still sounding raspy.

"No worries, mate," Ron answered, his brow furrowed in consternation as he watched him closely. He felt as though he were being x-rayed by the two of them.

"I'm- fine," he said shakily, wiping his sleeve across his temple. "It happens once in awhile."

"Has this been happening the whole time we were separated, Harry?" Hermione asked him. He stayed silent, wondering whether he should answer her, but, she, being who she was, easily guessed the answer.

"Oh, Harry, that's dreadful," she said, sounding as though someone had died, "I wish that we had known."

"There's nothing that you can do," he said, a bit harshly. "In fact, I probably shouldn't even be here endangering all of you, what with Lord Voldemort always trying to get into my head and all."

"Potter, enough of that!" Snape spat at him. "If you dare," he said slowly, "put another toe out of line, I will force-feed you right into the Dark Lord's clutches." Harry chuckled darkly.

"No . . . I doubt that you would." Snape's face turned sour. Hermione's attention was on Professor Snape now.

"I'm- erm- sorry that I yelled at you, Professor," she said sheepishly, "I didn't know. Does Harry have these visions often?"

"All of the time, Ms. Granger," he sneered. "He needs to keep me around. I seem to be a fortunate stroke of luck where Potter is concerned, to make sure that he stays out of his own mind when he cannot practice Occlumency," this last bit was directed towards Harry. Snape was now pointedly looking at him. He thought he could detect anger beneath his neutrality. And, the worst part about it was, of course, that he was absolutely right. Harry should have been occluding.

"Well," Ron said lowly, "it won't do any good to talk about it. After all, it's obvious that there's nothing Harry can do." But of course Ron was not totally correct . . .

"Enough of this," Snape snarled, causing Ron and Hermione to look away from Harry once again. "No doubt the headmaster will be back soon, and the three of you- " But he did not get any further, for at that instant the cave alighted with a red flame that encircled the space in which they were forming a scattered semi-circle, with Snape on one side. The fiery spectacle swiftly turned green, and there was a current that swam around them in a green, loping arc for several minutes. Then, abruptly, it turned black. In the deathly light of the cavern Harry could see Snape's eyes widen marginally, through the pale, almost sickly glow that the lights had shimmered into, even though the light was gray now- it looked sick. Snape's eyes were beautiful in comparison, because the dancing blacks were so lively.

And then everything ended. All of Harry's thoughts came to a stop. He could no longer see anything, as the light completely diminished. He felt the tension in the room build to a point that he could not comprehend, until a physical, solid form of some kind was on the ground between all of them, which was oddly poignant, in spite of the fact that there was no longer any light available for them by which to see it. Perhaps this was due to the fact that whatever it was moved in an undulating way, a fact that immediately set Harry upon his guard. A snake had materialized between them. Ron and Hermione immediately drew closer together, and Harry, watching the undulating process with a sick feeling, quickly threw himself in front of both of them and shoved them back into the wall. Snape said in a loud, harsh tone,

"Don't move!" None of them thought that it would be prudent to obey his instructions of course, so they were extremely careful not to make even the simplest movement. In the shadow of the setting, the potions master raised his billowing-robed arm about, while the rain outside the cave slashed furiously from Harry's point of view directly across from the entrance. He looked like a dementor that had just glided in out from the cold. Harry watched his lips move in the pale, sick, germ-ridden light that made him want to be sick, that portrayed this vision of the long, black snake. Snape whispered an incantation quietly. The animal acted as though it were stunned, for a minute, and simply cocked its large head at Snape like an anvil. Then, slowly, as though it were in a dream of some kind, Seraphina coiled up, as though it were dazed, or tired, and drew its length in- it might have been sleeping.

"Is it dead?" Hermione whispered, sounding a little awed.

"No," Snape answered, his tone cold and distant, "it is likely that the animal will wake in a few moments. There is no spell that will allow it to be killed, because the Dark Lord has placed enchantments around the snake's body that no one but he can penetrate. He does not willfully give out information that he enjoys keeping to himself," he said in a scathing tone of voice. Harry thought he heard Ron gulp.

"Makes- makes sense, I suppose," said the redhead. Snape sneered at him. "You are eloquent as ever Weasely." Hermione looked a little pale. Her eyes still fashioned upon the snake, she asked,

"How long do we have?"

"Not more than ten minutes," he said, in a voice that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up like little knives- there was something creepy about the way they tickled his neck. Slowly he turned around. "There's- " Before he knew it, a wand tip was thrust into his chest, on the left side, right upon where his heart was beating- it threatened to burst from him with its rapid thudding that would not grant to him any peace. Several things happened at once in quick succession. Snape snarled,

"Lucius," as Hermione and Ron both cried, "stupefy!" in unison. A body fell into the air, and went towards the ground with a strange, eerie movement, like it was flying away peacefully from the conflict of battle. Mr. Malfoy's pale face glowed in the moonlight of the cavern, his hair streaming around an expression of babyish serenity. It was as though he were in a deep sleep. Harry looked up at his friends with awe, but Hermione had a look torrid determination on her face, and he felt as though he was missing something. That is, until Snape said with an urgency that was foreign streaming out from his white lips,

"We need to leave now. The Dark Lord and his bidders will be here shortly." He did not spare Mr. Malfoy but a glance, and Harry instinctively moved closer to Ron and Hermione, trying to ignore his heart, as it beat. He thought that he heard Seraphina stir. He threw over his shoulder though,

"Nice one."

"It was all Hermione's doing. If she hadn't- " But she said,

"Hush," and Snape continued waving his black wand in some kind of an arc that was extremely and ominously complicated over a piece of stone that he had picked up, holding it upward in his long, clutching fingers. He watched the stone is it glowed, closely. It became blue and then red, before the colors died away and vanished. He extended his other hand towards them, slowly.

"Come," he ordered harshly. They obeyed him without any further ado. Just as they were all about to reach for the portkey, Harry asked his friends,

"Wait- you don't have anything that you need to take do you?" They both shook their heads. Snape was now glaring at him with two spirits of raging black fire.

"Sorry," he muttered. They all reached out, and then, at the touch of a finger, everyone was sailing away . . .

They landed in a clearing somewhere that was completely bereft of anything except for- what appeared to be a hanging cliff. The wind was howling about them with a biting chill sailing through its fury, causing the four of them to immediately wrap their clothes, or their arms, respectively, more tightly about themselves.

"Where are we?" Ron yelled above the noise. The lapping wind was now complimented by the lapping of waves somewhere beneath them, and Harry followed it to the edge of the clearing, which almost instantly drew downward into an enormous drop that must have dipped down to a sea about a hundred yards below. Granite rock cliffs twined about the water, which smacked the sides with the ferocity of ravenous hungry wolves- Harry shivered and drew back- yet they were all shivering in an odd depiction of unity. If anyone stumbled upon them they surely must look . . .

"Where's the Dark Lord?" Harry yelled. Although at the moment he couldn't remember why exactly, he had an inkling that it would not be a good idea to say Voldemort's name . . . he suddenly had a flashback to the time that he had said the name aloud at Odgen's place . . . what had happened then, must have been all of his fault . . .

Snape was placing spells in their primary vicinity though, and it was not likely that he had heard his question anyway. His friends looked just as confused as he did.

"I don't know, mate," said Ron. "I don't think that he'd be meeting us up here though, for some reason. I don't feel like tea over a roaring ocean is exactly his type, if you know what I mean?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "How do you know he drinks tea Ron?" He thought that must have come out inadvertently, for even she looked a little bit surprised. He started laughing. An overwhelming sense of relief was coursing through him, but it was not certain that they were entirely safe.

"I should go see if he needs any help," he said. The potions master was moving around their circle so rapidly that he had qualms about offering any assistance, but when he straightened at one point, Harry stepped forward. However, that dangerous wand went up in a mad frenzy, and he quickly stepped away again- he could now hear Snape saying an incantation in a lilting tone above the cantankerous hollering wind-bowl, an intense look of concentration upon his face. His black hair whipped about him madly, and on his gaunt features a gleam of whatever it was that composed Severus Snape was displayed, his lips moving faster than he would have thought possible. He knew then, that this truly was not a man to be crossed. The winds died down upon completion of the abstract spell, and he no longer felt the nail-biting chill. Snape paused for a moment, and his eyes caught Harry's.

"Step away, Potter," he hissed. "There is nothing you can do to help." Harry waved his hands in a helpless gesture, feeling rather annoyed. "Fine," he huffed, and then went back to join his friends at the center of the silent arc that Snape had created. He flicked his wand several more times. Hermione was watching his movements intently, and, maybe it was only his imagination, but Harry thought that he saw a look of fleeting annoyance on her features as well, but for another reason- he nearly laughed out loud. It was her true spirit, a spirit like no one else could ever imitate, that caused her to watch her professor with a spark of slight envy, greed, and pique as he was performing magic that she had yet to accomplish. He felt, for a moment, truly endeared by it. Then the moment vanished away in the wake of Snape's billowing clothing as he stepped in front of them once again.

"The grounds are secure for the moment," he told them in a low tone, which could not have been heard before he had stilled the wind in this enclosed circle. "We will camp here for the next few days, until we are in a position to leave this area." Harry's eyes darted around them- in every direction miles and miles of plain, grassy terrain stretched over slight mounds that created an undulating effect- somewhat like Seraphina the snake. Far into the distance though, past the grasses, he could see the edges of woodlands in certain places, though they by no means surrounded them.

"Where are we?" he asked, drawing his arms around himself for a reason that he could not quite understand. Snape did not answer him for a moment. His eyes were fashioned upon an imaginary spot above Harry's head.

"This is called Terrece Creation. It is a muggle location just outside of a city known as Rosedales." Ron's mouth fell open. "Close your mouth Weasely," Snape snapped at him. "It makes you look like a fish on land walloping about unbecomingly," he sneered. Ron closed it, abruptly.

"You brought us to a muggle location, Professor?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Yes Ms. Granger," said Snape, but, he did not offer her any more information. Harry wondered whether or not the fact that he had brought them here was due to background that stemmed from his past, but he knew better than to ask him. Snape did not seem as though he was in one of his best moods, and for that he could not blame him, in the slightest. He thought back to the incident in the cavern, and then shook it away again quickly- it caused an incomprehensible feeling of foreboding. He didn't like it. There was some, strange, eerie shadow plaguing his brain, and he had the distinct feeling that he was missing something important, something which, he did not know if he wanted to understand completely.

"What do you want us to do?" he asked. Snape reached into his pocket and drew out a small brown bag that was tied with a piece of thin rope. He opened it and pulled out a miniature item that they could not see, but which he spelled a minute later with his wand. Almost instantaneously, a rolled up tent appeared before them.

"You are from a muggle background, Ms. Granger," he said, sneeringly. "I am sure that you are more than equipped with the knowledge to figure out how to put this tent together for all of us." Hermione shot him a look of slight annoyance, but then she quickly bent down to pull apart the attachments holding the pale green colored sheet of canvas together, allowing it to spread itself out like a butterfly emerging.

"Harry, you take that end," she instructed. "Ron, you take the one over there." As he went over to help, he saw that Snape was taking some more items out of his bag and waving complicated spells over them. Before long, chairs and other necessary pieces of muggle equipment than he would never have in his life imagined that Snape would be able to remove on a short notice were being pulled from the small sack, but then, perhaps now would not be the best time to think about such a detail. The worst part about all of this was, that he could not question what the ominous feeling that threatened to eat him to his very bones was . . .

"Do you think he actually has a plan?" Ron whispered to the two of them. His red freckles were standing out in such a stark contrast against his pale skin that it made Harry wonder exactly why his friend was so nervous, save for the obvious quick escape. Did he have the same deathly omen knocking about in his mind as Harry did? Or was he merely underneath the effects still, of Lord Voldemort's attempt to sneak into his head?

"Harry?" He shook his head.

"I have no idea, Ron. Why don't you ask him?"

"I'm sure he has planned this out as much as he could have," Hermione snapped at both of them, as she finished placing stakes into the ground, and the tent spiraled into a fine, pointed triangle in the air above them finally. "I mean, it isn't as though he could have foreseen the prior events, now, is it?"

"Of course not," Harry said huffily. "I know he couldn't have foreseen anything. We just-"

"When you were at Odgen's place, Harry, could you have foreseen that Mr. Malfoy would show up? Or any of these events? Honestly, I don't know how you two can be so selfish. It isn't as though the Order isn't doing everything that it can to ensure everyone's safety. Ron's whole family is fighting. And poor Professor McGonagall herself was captured, due to her services. And you- "

"Hermione, wait," Harry protested weakly, "That- that isn't what I meant."

"Yeah, slow down, Hermione," said Ron. "We were just saying that we hoped he had a plan." He looked a little bereft. He seemed to be as put off by her reaction as Harry was. . . nevertheless, she stalked toward the flaps of the tent and went promptly inside, completely ignoring anything that either of them were about to say.

"Brilliant," Harry muttered, now starting to get angry himself. The tension outside of the tent seemed to be growing with every mint that passed, although he was not quite sure from where it had originated. Snape was watching them coolly from his standpoint, which was a few yards to the left of the tent, where he had just finished putting the rest of the items in order.

"You will be needing these," was all he said to them, before gracefully sitting down into one of the wooden chairs. Harry swore under his breath.

"What was that, Potter?"

"Nothing!"

"Watch it, mate," Ron whispered to him.

"Yeah . . . right," he said, hollowly. Now that they were safely out of the dark cavernous wet abode which they had been using as a safety hideout after leaving Odgen's place, they were stuck out her in the middle of nowhere upon a deserted- hopefully deserted- flat of grasslands above an unknown sea, right beyond the perimeters of a town comprised wholly of muggles. If they were for any reason scouted out through the greedy noses of the Dark Lord's followers than they had the potential to bring the entire war into the middle of this place- he gritted his teeth. This seemingly couldn't get any worse. To top it off, they had none of the necessary accommodations for a proper living arrangement save for this tent, and the few chairs that the potions master had miraculously pulled from his dark, wrinkled pockets . . . Harry wondered how long he had been wearing the same t-shirt and jeans for. Probably two or three days. How long had they been in the cave? He couldn't even remember. And then, that desperately crawling, threatening surge of claw-like guilt, washing over his soul in waves of black scythes and claws of ravenous animals was always bubbling up, threatening in a slow crawl to overtake him- suddenly Harry felt so utterly hopeless. He dropped his head into his arms and sighed.

"Stop it Potter," Snape snapped at him, sounding extremely mutinous. He clamped his mouth tightly shut. Hermione was probably right . . . he was being selfish . . . and much of this was his fault. He stood up from where he had been crouching beside the tent, and wandered aimlessly towards Snape- slightly aware that Ron was looking at him as though he were mad. Snape's jaw was set and his black hair was falling around his face, hiding his expression once again. His ability to remain rigidly controlled in his posture for long periods of time amazed him. The white skin wrapping his bony frame, that which was visible, was more- translucent than ever.

"When will Professor Dumbledore be coming back?" He asked quietly. There was some type of serene, thin yet magnetic rod that was prompting him closer to Snape, and forcing him to direct this question towards him. He watched him slowly pull back his oily strands of hair, that looked as though they had not been washed in days, and answer him in a remotely detached tone,

"I will send the headmaster a Patronus to inform him of the fact that the Dark Lord has taken over his present hiding place, and that we are temporarily residing here." Harry nodded, but he did not leave Snape's side. The potions master looked up- and he thought that a trace of doubt flashed briefly across his fiery black orbs, but maybe he had imagined it- his face looked to be as cool as ever. He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Okay." The heavy feeling was so great, at this point, that it felt like an anchor. There was a silence.

"What is it, Potter?" he finally asked him in a low tone of voice. Harry scratched the back of his head, embarrassed, and tried to quickly come up with an answer to that question that would not give away his true intentions. Finally he asked, in a strangled voice,

"Can I get you a cup of tea?"