Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I do not own these characters, I am merely writing this for my own, and hopefully others, enjoyment.

AN: Would just like to say that English is not my native language, so there will be some grammar faults, I'm sure. I know that this isn't really an excuse, I just hope you can forgive me:)

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Darkness. Flashes of memories. The Triwizard Cup. Darkness. The graveyard. Darkness. "Kill the spare". Darkness. Cedric's dead eyes staring into nothing. Darkness. Screaming. Then, a quiet pop.
Harry quickly opened his eyes and sat up in his bed, biting his lip to stop the moan that almost escaped as he moved his sore, battered body. He ignored the pain and focused on the reason he was awake.
By being the boy-who-had-a-mass murderer-after him, Harry was used to being alert at all times, even in his sleep, so he wasn't surprised that he woke up by the faint pop that had appeared not so long away. He didn't mind either, considering what he was dreaming. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the horrible nightmare, and quickly stood up, again ignoring the pain.
The pop. It had almost sounded like... no, he daren't wish for it, but he couldn't help but wonder. He quickly stood up, which he later regretted as he bumped his head on the ceiling of his cupboard, opened the door, and ran to the nearest window.
Darkness covered every inch of the street of privet drive that night, but Harry, who had spent much of his childhood in a dark cupboard, didn't have any difficulties spotting the tall dark figure that was striding down the street, his robes billowing gracefully behind him. There was only one man Harry knew who could perfect that technique, and that was his potion professor, Severus Snape. But that was impossible, why would Snape appearate to Little Whinging?
Harry's thoughts immediately went to the worst possibility; someone had died. Harry tried to laugh it off, push the thought away. But why else would Snape ever agree to come here, unless somebody was in danger and he needed to inform Harry. If there was some kind of fight, then it would be obvious that Snape couldn't participate, because he had to keep his cover. So what could Snape do that would prove useful without risking his cover? Warn Harry.
"You're being paranoid", Harry muttered to himself, but he didn't quite believe it. Feeling a lump in his throat, Harry quickly ran back to his cupboard, threw on some sweatpants, and reached for his wand under his pillow. Breathing heavily, he walked out again, fiddling with his wand in his right hand as he watched the door unlock from the outside. The doorknob slowly turned, and the door opened.
The dark figure emerged. Harry had a sudden flashback from one specific Potion lesson where Snape had stormed in the door, his robes billowing majestically behind him. Clearing his tired head, he focused on the man in front of him.

"What has happened? Is anybody hurt?" asked Harry immediately, feeling slightly ashamed by how desperate he sounded, but not giving a damn about it now.
Harry finally got a look on the man. Something that resembled surprise, confusion and curiousity glinted in Snape's eyes as he studied the sight in front of him. He also looked disappointed, but that was probably because of the fact that he wouldn't get to sneak up on Harry in his sleep.
Snape was almost startled as he saw how much Potter had changed since the last time he saw him. Underweight, dark bags under his eyes, pale and bloodshot eyes.

"A true gentleman as always, Mr. Potter", said Snape in a bored tone, regarding Harry with a disdainful look. Harry rolled his eyes at that, and asked again, impatiently.
"As far as I know, which is quite far, I have heard no such news such as someone being hurt. Where your little lump of a brain get your silly little thoughts from is beyond me", was all he answered, as he strode further into the house, not waiting for an invitation. Harry frowned slightly, ignoring the insult.

"Then why are you here?" he asked, a bit embarrassed for his little paranoia.

"We are leaving, now follow me", Snape replied, ignoring Harry's question as he looked around the hallway. Pictures of an overweight boy smiling greasily, and wearing some sort of uniform making him look like a pig with a circus costume covered the walls. The sooner he got back to Hogwarts, the better.

"What?" was all Harry managed to answer, totally dumbfounded. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Honestly boy, you are giving my eyes an exercise. I believe you heard me, now for once in your life, do as you are told and follow me."

"But I don't understand. Why are you here? Where are we going? What-"

"Quiet, you idiot boy!" Snape snapped. Harry flinched hard. He hated it when people called him boy. Vernon always called him that, and any reminder of Vernon wasn't a happy one.
"Now stop rambling like a child. Do as you're told. I refuse to stay here longer than necessary."
Calming himself by picturing the man's head on a stake, Harry asked through clenched teeth:

"Will I need my trunk, sir?"

"If you did, then I would have told you to pack your things, now wouldn't I?" he sneered, before whipping around and storming out of the front door. Harry had little choice but to follow.
Snape walked quickly down the road, and Harry had to run to keep up with him. He was burning to ask questions, but thought it would be wise to do otherwise. This was Snape after all.
His thoughts were running wild, and he almost crashed into Snape when the man suddenly stopped. Reaching out his arm, he said:
"Hold it tightly." Harry frowned, wondering why.
"For once in your ungrateful petty little life, just do what you're told", Snape snapped, holding his arm out impatiently. With a nasty glare and a defeated sigh, Harry grabbed Snape's arm. Suddenly he felt a strange feeling of being pressed very hard from all directions. He could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his ear-drums were being pushed deeper into his skull. Just as he thought he couldn't handle it any longer, he felt his feet land on solid ground again, and he could finally gulp in air.
Harry realized he had just side-appearated. He breathed heavily and tried to keep his balance, while wondering if he was going to throw up or not. Snape, however, continued walking immedialty, and didn't seem to notice Harry's nausea, or perhaps he just didn't care.
"Get a move on, Potter."
Yep, definitely the latter.

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Hope you enjoyed!:)