"Uncle Draco? Are you okay?"

The worried voice of Teddy cut through the haze of pain and bewilderment that seemed to pin Draco to the ground. He opened his eyes dizzily to find both Teddy and Scorpius leaning anxiously over him. Scorpius, who was clinging to his hand, looked terrified.

"I'm alright," Draco said confusedly, feeling as if he were speaking through a mouthful of cotton wool. "What…happened?"

He was lying on his back on a lumpy surface, and some distance above him was a canopy of leaves. Draco turned his head to the side and saw that he was indeed surrounded by trees. But how in the world had he wound up in a forest? Only moments ago he had been in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, and then the chest of drawers had seemed to suck him irresistibly into it—

"I don't know," Teddy said in a small voice. His face was pale and his hair had turned dull brown, with only a streak of its normal turquoise here and there. "We were just hiding in the drawing room…"

"You weren't supposed to be in there," Draco said hoarsely, although he couldn't quite sound stern. Teddy hung his head.

"The chest of drawers must have been enchanted somehow," Draco said. "Felt like…it pulled me in." He sat up gingerly, shaking his head to clear it and trying not to disturb his throbbing ankle with the motion.

"I'm sorry," Teddy said in a scared voice.

"We'll talk about it once—when we get back," Draco said, narrowly stopping himself from saying once we're safe. As he dodged the words, a chill seemed to descend on him. He had no idea where they were, but it was unlikely in the extreme that this area was protected by a Fidelius charm, as Grimmauld Place was. At a guess, it had no magical protection at all. It was simply a matter of time before Dementors found them, drawn by the Dark Mark. He gulped back panic. Surely Potter would find them first? He would be here in a matter of minutes, tracking them down with a few simple Locating spells. And even if he took a while, an attempt on Teddy's part to perform magic would immediately draw the attention of the Ministry in the form of an owl bearing a formal reproach, since Teddy was still underage. Right now, attention from any source other than Dementors was exactly what Draco wanted to draw.

"Did you hurt your ankle?"

Teddy must have taken his moment of petrified silence for pain, and Draco was willing to let it stand. Feeling slightly calmer with the assurance that help would arrive soon—though he had no clue how soon was soon enough to reach them before a pack of Dementors—he tried to smile reassuringly.

"I—yes, I think I did. You're not hurt, are you?"

Teddy shook his head. Draco turned to look over his frightened son. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"I want to go home," Scorpius begged. Draco squeezed his small hand.

"We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Teddy, I need you to do something for me. You have your wand, don't you?"

Teddy bit his lip anxiously. "I'm not allowed to do magic out of school."

"You are if it's an emergency. Right now, we need someone to find us. If you do magic, the Ministry of Magic will know where you are because of the Trace. They'll send someone to find us, or at least send an owl. And if they send an owl, we can tell it to go for help."

"I won't be in trouble?"

"No, not for this."

"What do you want me to do?"

If Teddy was going to do magic anyway, might as well be something useful, Draco decided. "Heal my ankle, please. Use the spell Episkey."

"I've never done it," Teddy said, drawing his wand hesitantly from the pocket of his robes.

"Just give it a try." Draco rolled up the cuff of his pants and very carefully drew the edge of the sock down, revealing a joint that was already turning an unpleasant reddish-purple color.

"Alright," Teddy said doubtfully. He pointed his wand at Draco's ankle. "Episkey!"

Draco smothered a yelp of pain, and Teddy drew back in alarm. "Oh, gosh. I did it wrong, didn't I?"

"You didn't do it at all, you stabbed me in the ankle," Draco said painfully. "It's not a poking motion—here, look."

"Yeah, why don't you just do it," Teddy said, relieved. "My wand will work for you, right? Uncle Harry still has yours?"

"I—" Draco had not even thought about the fact that Teddy didn't know of his inability to perform magic. He caught himself on the edge of speaking the truth, and swallowed it back. "I don't know. It might not."

The wand felt clammy in his hand. Draco tried not to fixate on how badly he needed the spell to work. "Episkey," he said, firmly but casually, demonstrating a practiced downward flick of the wrist as he spoke the spell. Nothing happened; his ankle remained swollen and discolored.

"I thought you could use other people's wands," Teddy said falteringly.

"It—I guess it depends on the wand," Draco lied, feeling fear multiplying again in his chest like a swarm of bees. "It looks like the magic is up to you. Want to try again?"

Teddy clearly did not want to, but he obediently took the wand back and silently practiced the flick Draco had showed him.

"Not so much rigidity in your elbow…better."

"Episkey," Teddy said firmly, flicking the wand downward. There was a faint flash of light and Draco gasped in pain with the sensation that someone had kicked him in the injured ankle.

"No—no more," he panted, clutching at his leg as far down as he dared touch it. Teddy drew back hastily.

"I'm really sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," Draco said through gritted teeth.

"Are you okay?" Scorpius asked timidly. That was a good question, Draco decided. Bracing himself against the inevitable pain, he ran his fingers over the swollen joint and probed carefully at it. The resulting surge of nauseous pain as he touched the ankle bone momentarily took his breath away, and sent an unnatural tingling sensation through the bottom of his foot. Draco pulled his hands away quickly, and found Scorpius staring at him with a frightened expression.

"I'll be alright, sweetheart. It's just my ankle. As soon as we get out of the forest I'll get someone to heal it."

Therein lay a significant problem. The three of them had no magical transportation available, as Teddy was far too young to Apparate and the spells to create a Portkey were enough to tax the talents of many adult wizards. This meant that the only option open to them to get anywhere was by foot. Draco was no Healer, and his brief exploration of his injury told him very little about its true severity or extent. However, it was clear that covering any distance on foot would pose a significant challenge. Teddy had apparently realized this as well, for he looked worriedly at Draco.

"But how…" Teddy trailed off, and seemed to think better of his question. "…how do you know which way to go?"

Draco swallowed hard and forced himself to consider the situation as rationally as he possibly could. What did he know? Through some mysterious magic that he did not understand, he, Teddy, and Scorpius had been deposited in an unknown, apparently uninhabited, forested location. The children were fortunately unharmed, but Draco himself was at least partially incapacitated. Only one of them was capable of performing any meaningful magic, and given that he had been at Hogwarts for only two years, that magic would be quite minimal. They had perhaps three hours of daylight left; and, under the reasonable assumption that this remote location had no magical protection, Draco was at this very moment being tracked down by Dementors, which might arrive in hours to days—he had no way of knowing for sure.

It was difficult to consider this situation rationally. But in the midst of his rising panic, Draco clung to the one reassurance he could see: the Trace. Teddy had used underage magic, so no doubt there was a Ministry owl zooming toward them at this very moment, carrying an indignant reprimand and bearing the promise that they would soon be found. If they were in a more inhabited area, the owl, which would have been dispatched from the nearest Wizarding post office, would be here in mere moments. Given their rather out-of-the-way location, however, it was natural that the owl would take longer to arrive, since the nearest post office would be correspondingly further away. It occurred to Draco that the time it took for the owl to arrive would give him a general idea of how far they were from civilization.

This thought brought another, more disturbing train of thought to mind. Supposing they were very far from the nearest Wizarding settlement? An owl's flight took time. Even if he could be assured of the owl's arrival eventually, it might be a few hours before it came. Then, he would have to send it back with a message—and since owls didn't carry writing equipment, it would be a matter of speaking to the magical animal and asking it to bring help. Then there was an equally long trip back for the owl, which might be starting to tire by that point. When it reached the Wizarding settlement, it would then have to make itself understood; and though the nocturnal birds were intelligent, and respected as such by Wizarding kind, no owl was capable of readily conveying complex ideas. Another hour then, pessimistically, for the animal to convince someone to follow it—and then several more hours of flight, possibly slowed to allow for those following it to keep up. And then, supposing those following the owl could not produce a Patronus charm…even if they could, it might well be ten hours or longer before help arrived, assuming a likely maximum of three hours' flight from the nearest Wizarding town.

Draco did not like the sound of that. In Hogsmeade—it seemed years ago now, and yet in reality it had been less than two weeks—the Dementors had arrived not much more than an hour after he had entered the village. Even under the somewhat arbitrary hope that the Dementors would take much longer to find him this time, surely ten hours would be more than enough.

How long had it been already since they had dropped out from under the protective Fidelius charm?

All that was assuming a worst-case scenario, Draco reminded himself firmly, rubbing his clammy palms absently against his robes. It might very well be that the owl would arrive within minutes, and that in an hour or less they would be safely returned to Grimmauld Place. Well—perhaps not there. Draco felt he had been once and for all proven correct in his suspicions of the gloomy house. But then they would be safe.

Except that wasn't guaranteed.

He was thinking in circles, caught in an emotional pendulum that ran the gamut from near-certainty that all would be well, to all-consuming panic; and the more he thought, the more the pendulum gravitated toward the latter end of the spectrum. There were simply a lot of things that could go wrong in the time it took for them to be found and rescued.

Draco took a deep breath to reorient himself. Ten to fifteen minutes, he determined after brief reflection, was about the longest it could have been so far. It was unlikely that they would be found by Dementors in less than an hour and a half, based on the time it had taken for the creatures to arrive in Hogsmeade, and optimistically it might take much longer. They should have at least an hour of safety, and possibly longer.

"Uncle Draco?" Teddy asked uncertainly. Draco blinked and found that both Teddy and Scorpius were watching him intently. He wondered how much of his anxiety had shown on his face in the last few minutes of intent thought. His instinct was to try to assuage the fright and alarm that no doubt Scorpius was feeling, but as he opened his mouth to say something reassuring, it occurred to him that any plan based on a best-case scenario was sure to fail.

He had to find a way to keep his son safe, and right now the safest place for Scorpius was as far from Draco as he could possibly get.

"Teddy," he said gravely, "there's something I have to tell you."

"What?" Draco's tone must have conveyed the seriousness of what he had to say, because Teddy looked as scared as he had just before attempting the Healing spell.

"It's about…what happened a couple of weeks ago, in Hogsmeade."

Teddy gulped, and said nothing.

"I was the reason that—that they were there," Draco said in a low voice. His palms had become clammy. "Your godfather's investigation—he found out. Those things are—well, they're after me, and they can find me. Grimmauld Place had magical protections, but…"

He waited, hoping Teddy would understand without him having to spell out the problem. The more he could leave to Teddy's inference, the less likely it was that Scorpius, who was looking back and forth between the two of them, would understand what was going on and become frightened by it. Teddy's eyes widened.

"But…not here?"

Draco shook his head. Teddy sat back on his heels and rubbed his hands compulsively up and down his forearms, as though he were trying to warm himself from imagined chill.

"And there's—" his voice trembled, and he cleared his throat to steady it. "—there's nothing we can do to hide?"

"No."

Draco let that sink in; he needed the time to prepare himself to speak without sounding as terrified as he felt.

"Teddy, listen to me. I think it's very likely that we'll be found before that's a problem. I'm sure the Ministry owl will be here for you very soon, and we'll send back a message with it. But there's a chance that we're a bit far away from any post offices, and it may take the owl a while to get here. I can't be sure that we have enough time, because I don't know how long—" he caught his voice on the edge of wavering and took a quick breath, hoping Teddy hadn't noticed. "The farther you are away from me, the safer you'll be."

"Wha—what do you mean?" Teddy asked shrilly. "What do you mean, away from you? We have to go—"

"How far do you think we are from the nearest town? Look at my ankle. How fast do you think I can move? I'll tell you—not fast enough, if we're any distance at all."

"But I can't just—"

"I'm asking you to get help," Draco said, as firmly as he could. "Take Scorpius, and go find help. When the owl comes, it will go to you since you're the one who did underage magic. If you haven't found anyone yet, send a message with it to bring back help for all of us. And if it takes longer—you can move faster than I can. You'll be able to get help sooner, and you and Scorpius will be safer away."

"I'm not going away," Scorpius chimed in. Draco put a hand absently on his head.

"Hush, Scorpius. Teddy, it's the best thing."

"But…we'll be alone," Teddy said anxiously. "And you'll be stuck here…"

Draco considered telling Teddy that his presence was of absolutely no utility. In the event of any danger—Dementors or anything else—he could do nothing to protect them, magically or otherwise.

"You'll be fine," he said reassuringly. "Tell you what. Why don't you find me a branch or something I can use as a crutch? That way, if I have to go anywhere, I'll have something to lean on."

"A-alright," Teddy agreed reluctantly. "Uncle Draco, are you sure—"

"I'm sure," Draco said firmly, before he could change his mind. Teddy nodded, still looking upset and alarmed, and scrambled up to look for a branch to serve as a walking stick.

"Come here," Draco told Scorpius, who climbed onto his lap. Draco winced as the motion jarred his aching foot, but swiftly suppressed the expression. "Scorpius, Teddy is going to go find someone to bring us home," he began cautiously, wondering how to explain this to a five-year-old, "and he needs your help to find them. You're going to go with him, okay? I'm going to stay here and—" wait to have my soul sucked out of me. "—make my foot feel better. Okay?"

"I want to stay with you, Daddy," Scorpius protested.

"Sweetheart, I need you to go with Teddy. You'll see me again in no time."

Scorpius shook his head, his face contorting into a pout. Draco sighed.

"I need you to be a brave boy, Scorpius. You and Teddy are going to go find someone to take us home…and they'll fix my ankle, too."

"But I don't want to go," Scorpius persisted.

"Why not?"

"Want to stay with you," Scorpius mumbled, leaning forward against his father's chest. Draco pushed him gently back and took a different tactic.

"You have to go with Teddy," he said sternly. "Scorpius, listen to me: you're going to go with him. Okay? I'm telling you that."

"I don't want to," Scorpius sniffled miserably. "I'm scared, Daddy!"

"You will be safe with Teddy," Draco told him, internally begging for it to be true.

"No!" Scorpius insisted, beginning to cry. Draco swallowed down panicky exasperation; of all the times for Scorpius to decide to throw a tantrum, this was possibly the worst one he could imagine. He reminded himself to remain calm.

"Scorpius," he said severely, "Daddy is telling you that you have to go. Do you understand?"

"I won't!" Scorpius sobbed, and clung to Draco. When Teddy returned a few minutes later, bearing a long piece of dead branch, Scorpius was still adhered tightly to Draco.

"He doesn't want to go," Draco explained in consternation. "Scorpius, please…"

It would do no good to reason with a five-year-old. "I don't think I can carry him, Uncle Draco," Teddy muttered, apologetically. "Maybe a little way…"

But he would not get far if he was trying to tow along an unwilling child who would probably fight every step of the way. "I'll run all the way," Teddy said, determinedly, "I'll bring someone back soon."

If Scorpius did not go with Teddy, Draco asked himself, was there any point at all in sending Teddy? Surely Teddy would be safer, and he might find help, but Scorpius would be in just as much danger due to his proximity to Draco—

No, Draco told himself very firmly. There wasn't time to think through all the implications; if at least one of them would be safer this way, then he had to proceed. He nodded, feeling sick with nerves. What if this was the wrong choice? What if somehow he was sentencing them all to—

"Which way do I go?" Teddy asked, sounding suddenly less sure of himself. Draco realized that, in his attempts to reason out the best course of action, this was one thing he hadn't considered.

"Er—" Surely, there had to be some rationale for choosing a direction in such circumstances. "Try to go…downhill. Here, pull out your wand."

Hindered slightly by Scorpius, who was still stuck fast to him, Draco showed Teddy how to place the wand flat on his hand and determine the cardinal directions with a point me spell. "The tip of the wand points toward the north. Use it to make sure you keep going in about the same direction. It won't do any good to wander around in circles. Here, try it."

When he was confident Teddy could perform the spell, Draco hesitated, unable to bring himself to send off the only real connection he had to the Magical world. Teddy stood up, looking frightened but resolute.

"I'll be back soon, Uncle Draco." He pushed the makeshift crutch closer to Draco, so that it was within easy reach.

"Don't forget: point me. Use it often. When the owl finds you, write a note if you can. If you can't, tell it to bring help. And tell it which direction to bring help to Scorpius and I, too. Go as fast as you can, but be careful and don't wear yourself out. If you get hurt—"

"I know, Uncle Draco." Teddy nodded, and gulped. "I—I guess I'll see you soon."

He started off in a hurry, as if he couldn't bear to linger for a longer goodbye, and after a few minutes his footsteps faded away and the only other sound, apart from the rustle of a light breeze and the faint chirping of faraway birds, was Scorpius's hiccups. Draco found that his frustration of a few minutes ago had faded, leaving him only anxious and resigned. He kissed Scorpius lightly on the top of his head and stroked his back.

"Shh, sweetheart. It's okay."

"I want to go home," Scorpius gulped. Draco couldn't have agreed more.