AN: This is for Lizzy0305. She drew the cover for 'Hearthwizard' - my original work now for sale on Amazon - and this is all she asked for. Sorry that I am so late in getting this to you!

Also, many, many thanks to YenGirl who is kindly cleaning this up for me and making it much more readable. Thanks for beating this, Ladio!

Unexpected Help

Harry pressed his forehead against the windowpane. Sitting in his room, staring out the window was far better than facing his relatives who were grossly unhappy with his early appearance. The summer wasn't all that interesting, especially after how the school year ended. It was part of that ending – in particular, Snape's part of it – that had him puzzled, and Harry had nothing better to think about for the past couple of weeks.

Pressed close against the windowpane, he stared at the garden with unseeing eyes. 'His expression when he killed Dumbledore, he didn't want to. The others couldn't see the look in his eyes, but I was in just the right place. I know that look – the look he gets when he is forced into doing something against his will.' His lips twitched slightly, almost curling into a grin. He should know that look, he'd seen it every time the Headmaster forced Harry onto Snape. Occlumency lessons and refereeing Quidditch games came to mind first, but he had a feeling there had been many, many more that he didn't know about.

The same look coupled with despair and pain had been in Snape's dark eyes while they reflected the green flash of the Killing curse.

'Then, while I was chasing him through the castle, the tightness around his eyes – most everyone else would discounted it as he was rushing, trying to get away, but I know what it really was. At least, now I do. He was practically yelling at me for not understanding; for failing at whatever lesson I was supposed to be learning. He was calling me a dunderhead with his eyes while making scathing comments.' It was all there for anyone who'd taken the time to learn to read Snape. Harry had spent the last six years perfecting that skill. Admittedly, he had only gotten this good since he opened his eyes and started thinking this past year. It had taken Sirius dying because he couldn't read the Potions Master's intent from his face to convince him to do so.

Closing his eyes, he shuddered and pushed thoughts of Sirius away. Right now he had to focus on what Snape wanted him to learn, to understand, during their final confrontation.

It took three more days to admit he just didn't have enough information. Gathering essentials from his trunk, he packed an old school bag that Dudley had tossed into the room at one point. Wand, clothes, Wizarding money, compass, and a map were all tucked inside. Shuffling things about, he succeeded in cramming in all food from the stash he'd made at the end of the school year. He grabbed a jacket, wishing he had some Muggle money, and opened Hedwig's cage. The snowy owl gave a quiet hoot and hopped onto his outstretched arm.

"I need to find Severus Snape, girl, and you can lead me to him. Or at least where he receives his post during the summer. Just go slow for me." He opened the window and let her free into the predawn light, "I'll be out in a moment."

Stepping out of his room, he noticed Dudley's room light was still on. 'I can't leave without at least attempting to warn him. It's not Dudley's fault his parents are gits and raised him the way he is. And, to be honest, he's been better this summer.' He slipped noiselessly across the hall and silently opened the door. He shut it just a silently behind him.

Dudley was stretched out across his bed, a letter clutched to his chest, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"Hey, Duds," Harry said softly, hoping not to startle him too much.

Blue eyes shifted from the ceiling to Harry, taking in the bag and jacket. "Where you running to, Harry?"

That was one of the strange things from this summer – Dudley didn't use any of the demeaning nicknames for him. He typically just used Harry's first name. His inflexions as he spoke were less demeaning as well. Making up his mind, Harry held onto the bag's strap, "I'm just leaving. There's a group of bad people out after me and I don't want to get you involved."

Dudley sat up, tucking his letter under his pillow, "So, like a mafia or something like that?" He looked Harry over from head to toe, "You can't go like that – they have to know what you look like. Also, according to Ms Withers, the way your dressed no one is gonna wanna help you. You gotta look more presentable."

He was off the bed and crossing the room quickly, "I have those clothes Mum got me when she expected me to thin out a bunch." He yanked open his wardrobe and pushed most of his clothes aside to get to a collection of hangers in the back. "They're just some black trousers and white shirts, but they're better than what you're wearing. Smaller in size too, so they might fit you better. Try'em on."

Harry stared at the clothes shoved into his arms.

"I'm going to see if there are any decent shoes that have a chance to fit your feet," Dudley started digging under his bed.

Harry set the clothes and the bag down. A moment later he was changed and studying how his newest Dudley's cast-offs fit. Sure, they were still large, but nothing like the others. These were still basically new – he couldn't remember a time the other boy had ever worn them.

"That looks better – now someone might lend you a hand. Try those shoes on." Dudley started folding up the clothes and added seven pairs of socks, one for each pair of trousers with two extra. He chucked a pair of socks at Harry instead of putting them in the folded pile. "Change those socks, these are thicker, so there won't be as much space inside the shoe."

Harry did so, trying not to feel shocked.

"What does this mafia look like?" Dudley pulled a baseball cap off the top shelf of his wardrobe, "Take this and keep it pulled low. If you can go without your glasses, it'll help hide you."

Accepting the cap, Harry decided he needed to tell Dudley as much truth as he could. "It's not a mafia – it's more like a terrorist organization. They call themselves Death Eaters, and they want me dead because I defeated their leader."

"But he survived and now is out for your blood," Dudley sighed even as his eyes strayed out the window, looking around the garden.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, and he might go after you too, and Aunt and Uncle as well." Blue eyes snapped back to him. "So, pay attention. If the person dresses strangely, if you spot a skull wrapped with a snake tattoo on their left arm, do your absolute best not to let them get you."

His cousin's eyes narrowed as he nodded his head. "I can't do anything against magic, Harry."

"Get their wand away from them, punch them if you get caught, but it's best not to." Harry paused before taking a chance, "If you get caught and you can't get free, do your best to get to one with greasy black hair, sallow skin, and a hooked nose. He has really dark eyes, tall and thin. He … he won't be able to get you free, but if it's in his power, he'll be as merciful as possible and kill you quickly."

Dudley blanched. "Okay. You have some money?"

Harry shook his head, "Only Wizarding, not Muggle."

Dudley rolled his eyes and retrieved a tin. "Here," he pulled out a wad of notes, "It's what I have. Mum and Dad will give me more if I need it."

Wondering if he was dreaming, Harry took the notes and set them on the folded clothes. Reaching in his bag, he pulled out his money pouch. He held it out to Dudley, "Here, it's Wizarding money – the gold is galleons, silver are sickles, and the copper is knuts. You can guess which ones are the higher denomination based on the metal. If you get caught and can escape, they'll help you get a disguise and food."

Dudley emptied the pouch into his tin, threw a few galleons, sickles, and knuts back in and then stuffed the notes into it. "Dad is getting a promotion – he talked about it during dinner tonight while you were upstairs. We're moving, are you sure you want to run?"

A touch of relief coursed through Harry. If the Dursleys moved there would be less chance of Voldemort finding them. "Yeah, Duds, he'll keep hunting me down."

"Then let's get you packed up right and get you out of here. Your trunk, you taking it? Or do you want me to watch over it? Any room left in that bag or do you need another one?"

"Will Aunt Petunia let you keep my trunk? No, there is no room in the bag."

Dudley found a hiking bag someone had given him years ago. "Yeah, I can convince her. Bring it over here and I'll put some of my things into it – she won't deny me. I'll rearrange your packs."

By the time he was back, his old clothes were tossed into a rubbish pile and all but the food items were in the hiking pack. "Is there room for maybe a few books?"

"We can make some," Dudley pushed things about, making room. "I put some protein and ration bars that Mum got me a while back in the school bag. I hid them, but they're still good."

He zipped the bag up and handed Harry a water bottle. "It goes with the bike I got during Mum's health craze. It wasn't even my birthday or Christmas. You take it. It's got the reflectors and front light so you can drive at night too. I know you used to ride my old one – this one works the same, just nicer."

They tiptoed down to the shed where Dudley helped him to strap the hiking pack onto the top and down tubes with the shoulder straps around the head tube, both being careful that the brake cables were not hampered, Harry asked the question that had been burning in his brain since the beginning of summer, "What happened, Dudley? Why are you different this summer? Why are you helping me now?"

The not-so-pudgy teen used some bungee cords to create a cage between the tubes to prevent it from flopping around and double-checked that the bottle cage was still usable while he answered, "Ms Withers was my Psych professor." Blue eyes darted to Harry before returning to the cords. "That was an eye-opening class. I read my book, I watched the videos – listening to people talk about their lives and realizing I knew what our first unit was about. I flew through the assignments, well most of them, because … well … because I knew most of the material from personal experience. See, our first unit was on abuse and the psychology of it. How it affects the abused, the abuser, and the others in the household. I could see it in myself, I could see it in you, I could see it in Mum and Dad."

He sat back and looked up at Harry, "I couldn't report Mum and Dad. I remembered someone saying you had to be here to remain safe. I didn't think a spoken apology would be worth anything – I am really sorry about how I treated you, you didn't deserve it ever – but … I could try to change my actions. I could try and break the cycle, try and not be like them. Now, we're leaving here, you're leaving here, so here won't be safe anymore. But I … I ..." he trailed off.

Harry felt something shatter. The apology, the reason for Dudley's actions, soothed part of a large permanent ball of the anger inside him. Pretending to check the cords, he said, "Don't report them. I don't want you to." 'I don't want you to lose them. They love you and …'

Dudley swallowed hard as if he understood all that Harry didn't say. "Call me when you get somewhere safe if you can. You should go before the sun crests."

Harry wheeled the bike out of the shed. "I'll call if it's safe to do so or send an owl. You take care of yourself, and if I don't see you …" He paused, trying not to think of what could happen, "Then be safe and strong. You can break the cycle. And … and thanks for the apology – it helps."

Dudley gave a short nod and then gestured towards the road. "Head on, the sun's not waiting for anyone."

§§§§§

Harry cycled away from Privet Drive following Hedwig. It wasn't easy keeping up with her, especially as he had to follow the roads. She took to flying short distances ahead of him and then came back to ride on the stem near the handlebars where a basket would normally latch on for other bikes.

Grateful for Quidditch practice and running to classes, Harry pedalled until breakfast time. He stopped in a park to munch on one of the protein bars and gulp some water. After a bit of a rest, he mounted back up.

"Let's go, Hedwig."

By tea time, he was too tired and sore to continue. He found an out of the way park, ate a bit of his food, and then rested. A nearby water fountain refilled his bottle and he spent the rest of the afternoon trying to find a place to kip for the night. He finally found an out of the way bench hidden by overgrown bushes.

The next morning, he examined the old map he'd kept from being binned years ago. "Okay, Hedwig, maybe if I knew better where we were going, it'd be easier. So, come look at this map." He aligned it with the directions they were travelling. "We're here." He pointed to Banbury, "at least, we're around here – to the south of it."

He glanced at Hedwig as she tipped her head sideways while studying the paper. He rested his fingers on a city. "This is Scarborough." She blinked and clicked her beak. "This one is York." Another blink and click. "This is Leeds, this is Manchester, and this is Liverpool." She gave a small hoot.

Harry pointed to a bench in the direction of Scarborough, "That bench represents Scarborough, that swing-set is York, the bush," he moved slightly west, "is Leeds, that tree is Manchester, and that pole is Liverpool. Which one am I heading more for?"

He waited, hoping she could do this. Hedwig studied the map, the sky, and then flew to the tree. Harry wheeled the bike to it. "Okay, where you are is central Manchester. That branch there is north Manchester, this one is south, that one is east, and the other side is west."

Hedwig flew to a branch that was situated between the north and west branches.

"Okay, I'm going to try to get a ride on the Knight Bus. I don't know if they'll let me with the bike, but I think it'll be faster than me trying to bike all the way there. If I get on the bus, you fly to Manchester and then find me." Harry stroked his fingers through her feathers, "Okay, girl?"

She hooted and nipped at his fingers.

"Thanks."

He spent an hour hunting for a public loo and eating his breakfast. Then, after making sure he was in an out of way spot, he held his wand hand out and prayed.

Three minutes later, the purple bus stopped in front of him, its doors opening. Harry pulled his hat low over his head. He'd already taken his glasses off and pulled out some Wizarding money. Stepping next to the door, he stopped Stan Shunpike's greeting, "Can I bring my bike on?"

"Ernie," Stan turned to the driver, "can he?"

"Go ahead," Ernie said after a moment of contemplation and looking into the back of the bus.

"Thanks," Harry hefted it up the steps with him, "I need to go to the Northwest section of Manchester."

"Eleven sickles, thirteen gets you a cup of hot chocolate," Stan accepted the eleven coins from Harry, "You sure you don't want the hot chocolate?"

"Yeah," Harry moved to one of the loose chairs near the side of the bus and barely had a chance to trap the bike between it and the wall before the bus was back off again. Falling roughly into the chair, he wondered if this would be better or worse than riding the bike all the way there.

It was almost tea time before he arrived. The bus kept making other stops and jumping across the country to pick up a few more stranded wizards. As everyone came on and off the bus, Harry kept his head low and a hand on the bike.

"Manchester – the Cracked Cask," Stan called out.

Not sure if this was truly his stop or not, Harry decided he was getting off. It was at least Manchester. The bike took a moment to get off and before he could thank Stan who'd helped in the end, the bus was gone. Wheeling the bike to the side of the pavement, he pulled back out his map hoping to look like he knew what he was doing while he waited on Hedwig.

Ten minutes later the snowy owl was resting on the top tube of the bike, her claws catching the bungee cords. Folding the map, he looked her in the eyes, "Okay, girl, now let's find Severus Snape."

She flew up to his shoulder as he pulled the bike off the pavement and into the road, mounting it as he did. She launched herself off and they started the tortuously slow trip once again.

Harry lost track of both the time and exactly where he'd been by time Hedwig landed on the baluster of a stair leading to the door of the end terraced house. "This is it, girl?"

Hedwig flitted her wings and settled on the baluster even better.

Harry moved the bike through the small front garden to prop it against the side of the house near the stairwell. After taking a deep breath, he walked slowly to the door and knocked. 'Dumbledore trusted him, kept telling me to trust him. Snape was trying to tell me something while we ran through Hogwarts. I know it.'

The thoughts kept roiling about in his mind. He was positive that Snape could hear them wherever he was. Harry pulled the ball cap down over his forehead and knocked again, doing his best to not sound impatient.

The door snapped open and Snape loomed on the other side of the portal. Harry could see the snarled words become trapped behind the man's teeth and the flitting look of surprise crossed the pale face.

"Get in here," Snape growled as he moved out of the way. He glared at Hedwig as Harry scooted past him, "You too, you're too recognisable."

The owl flew in. Snape shut the door behind her, "Perch on the back of a chair."

She settled on one near a large fireplace leaving Harry standing awkwardly in the entry hall. Snape moved to stand between him and the door into the front parlour, blocking his view of Hedwig.

"Why are you here, Potter?" He asked while folding his arms across his chest. Harry was positive one hand was resting on the man's wand. He wouldn't blame the Professor considering their last meeting.

Harry held his hands loosely by his sides as he answered, "You were trying to tell me something, sir. Back as we were rushing our way out of Hogwarts."

"When you were attacking me with both spells and words?" snapped Snape.

Harry nodding vigorously and started rambling, "Yeah, we both know I am too hot-headed and I didn't analyse what was happening while it was happening. But … Dumbledore he didn't try and defend against you, he didn't do anything but ask you 'please.' And well, the whole time I was chasing you, you could have easily killed me like you did Dumbledore, but instead, you taunted me, cast simple things at me, and gave me the same look you always do when I am missing something very important. So..." He shrugged slightly, at a loss on what else to say.

Black eyes narrowed as Snape spoke softly, "All that should matter is that I killed Dumbledore."

"You're right – and to most people, that is all that is going to matter. But, your look said I was making a mistake. A bad one that could lead to horrendous conclusions. So, I thought about it since the beginning of the summer, and well …" he paused for a second to take a closer look at Snape, trying to judge his mood. Not being able to tell a thing, Harry continued, "Well … I was wondering if Dumbledore ordered you to do it. I mean, we'd just got back from a hunt to collect something from a cave and he told me to force-feed him this potion. He didn't give me a chance to figure out what the potion did, he ordered me to keep giving it to him no matter what until I could get the thing. It could have killed him..."

Harry paused as the memories of that cave briefly overwhelmed him. He honestly didn't care if Snape saw them or not – it might convince the man he was telling the truth. He looked directly into the closed-off black eyes, "Maybe he was hoping it would – kill him that is, so you wouldn't have to."

Tension had leaked from the man's frame though his expression didn't change. "I am a Death Eater, Potter. I should be calling the Dark Lord here right now to take you away."

Harry nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact, "I know, but I don't think you're his man. I think you're still part of the Order and this was the only way for something to be done. What? I don't know. Why? I can't hazard a guess. But I just know it. I'm done doubting you, sir."

Even as those words left his lips, Harry wished they were true. It'd make this much easier. Instead, he was standing here waiting for the axe to fall.

An eyebrow rose casting doubt on what he'd just said, but all Snape asked was, "How did you get here ?"

"Dudley, my cousin, lent me his bike. Hedwig showed me the way. I did take the Knight Bus for part of the trip."

Black eyes narrowed at the mention of the bus, but all he asked was, "Where's the bike?"

"Propped near the steps," Harry glanced towards the wall it should be resting against.

"There's a loo at the top of these stairs. Don't go poking your nose into the other rooms. Be back down here and sitting in the chair where your owl is before I return with the tea." Snape flicked his fingers towards the narrow stairs.

Needing no second prompting and grateful for the chance, Harry dashed up them. The loo's door was slightly ajar while the other rooms were soundly shut. After he used the facilities and washed up a bit, he smashed his curiosity. He was barely sitting in the chair before Snape walked in with a small tea tray filled not only with a pot, sugar, milk, and cups but also with sandwiches and crisps. The man set the tray on the coffee table and poured out. Harry refused to think of him as playing mother, there was nothing mothering about how Snape poured. Instead, he far more resembled his Potions Master title.

"How many lumps, Potter, and do you take milk?" Snape held the sugar tongs, his eyes watching him, waiting for an answer.

"One and a dash, please."

One lump of sugar was added with as much precision as an ingredient into a cauldron and the milk was drizzled over the surface as if Snape was measuring out each drop precisely. Harry wanted to mention that Aunt Petunia always added the milk to the cup before the tea, but the professional air about Snape made him refrain.

With two neat turns of the spoon, Snape handed him his prepared cup resting on its saucer. Snape's own cup and saucer still sat on the tray with steam trailing up from it. Sitting on the sofa nearest the tray, Snape watched him, waiting.

'It's a test. Do I really trust him? I do – at least I feel like I should. Not just because Dumbledore said to, but because there is just something about the situation. Because there's always been something about the situations. They always seem to show him in a bad light, but every time – EVERY time – it turns out he is protecting me, Dumbledore, the Order, or somehow or other the entire school.' Leaning over the cup, he let the steam waft into his face and breathed deep. The tea held no floral notes, no minty ones, not even the citrus ones found in Earl Grey that Aunt Petunia favoured.

Glancing up, he looked at Snape through the steam. The Potions Master was patiently waiting. Watching him as if he was a specimen that needed to be understood. 'I trust him.' Sipping the tea, Harry felt his eyes widen as the deep, rich flavour flowed over his tongue. This was better than any tea he'd had before. Waiting a moment, savouring the flavour, he took another sip.

Snape picked up his own cup and drank. "Don't forget to eat. Dinner won't be until later."

Harry set his cup down and picked up a triangular cut ham sandwich. "I'm allowed to stay until dinner?"

Relaxing back into the sofa, Snape sighed, "Yes, as you've fled the relative safety of your home. We won't need to make plans to get you out of there on your birthday, but you need to be somewhere safe. Now, who knows where you are?"

Harry looked back at the half-empty teacup and the last bite of sandwich. Trust. "No one, sir. Dudley knows I am gone. He gave me the hat, clothes, bike, bag, and some food, but I didn't tell him where I was going." He paused a moment before rushing on, "I did warn Dudley about the Death Eaters. About how they can't really dress like Muggles, about the Dark Mark. I told him to try not to get caught, but if he does ..." He clasped his empty hand tight, "If he does, that if he can get to you, you'd kill him as quickly and mercifully as possible. I didn't mention your name, just your description."

Snape stared at him. Harry was fairly sure he shocked him but nothing showed in his face. Finally, the man nodded, "I'll do my best for him."

"Thank you, sir."

He just received a quick nod as acknowledgement.

"You have a bike," Snape said, leaning forward to move the tea tray to a side of the coffee table. "We need to plot out a route to get you to the Burrow." Black eyes snapped to his face, "And you cannot chance the Knight Bus or any Wizarding place from here on out. You were very fortunate earlier. The Dark Lord wasn't expecting you to be travelling, but many people are on the lookout for you on the off chance."

Snape spread a map onto the table. "We are here," he pointed to the north side of Manchester, "and the Burrow is here," his finger slid down the coastline into Devon. "There are several places you can camp or get a room along the route, and all offer something in the way of a hot meal."

Harry picked up another ham sandwich triangle and leant in to see the map, listening closely. This was going to truly make dinner late.

§§§§§

It was after Severus sent Potter upstairs to the guest bedroom that he finally let the afternoon and evening sink in.

Potter had tracked him down. Had used a bike – a rather nice racing one from what he could tell when he moved it to the back shed while the boy had been upstairs the first time – and his ingenuity to get from Surrey to Manchester. 'And we can get him from here to the Burrow. I don't have to worry about Mundungus getting the plan wrong, of things in that plan going horribly wrong.' Sighing in relief, he rolled his shoulders. Yes, he had been annoyed by someone knocking at his door when he was heading to his lab, but it turned out to be a good thing.

'I need to make him a potions kit. Double-check his packs for food and a medical kit. I also need to make sure the bike is in proper working condition. I doubt either of them checked it the morning he left.' Putting the last of the dishes away from that night's dinner of stew and bread, he headed out to run a maintenance check the bike.

It was while he was airing up the tires, that he thought of the mirrors. He had made them back during the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts, but they were never used because he and Lily had grown apart. They were two nondescript compact mirrors that he'd spelt for communication. Maybe he should offer one to Potter. The boy had proved himself today. He'd used his brain to both question things and to find a way to get to him.

'If he has more questions, it would be easier for both of us. But, can I trust him not to get me killed?' Severus pondered that while he adjusted the brakes after checking the pads. Sitting back on his heels, he stowed his bike tools back into their pouch on his touring bike. 'I think I can. And if I can't, well I am already in danger. I've given him room, board, and a way to get to his next spot safely. I might as well make it easy to tell him information to keep him safe.'

That decided, he went to find a small tarpaulin to cover the ingenious way the boys had come up with to hang the hiking pack off the bike. 'Potter might need a lightweight macintosh, too.'

He made a mental note to find one while he hunted down the mirrors and before he went to his lab.

§§§§§

Harry snuggled deeper into the covers. The bed he was in was just the right amount of soft, the pillow had just the right amount of fluff, the covers weren't too cold nor too hot.

Breathing in deeply, he let his mind drift, all the stress since the end of the school year was gone. Memories of the last couple of days finally resurrected themselves and Harry remembered where he was. He sat up quickly as his gaze darted to the window taking in the predawn light. He wanted to go back to sleep. To cuddle under the covers and let the world go away. Snape might even let him, especially if the world would go away for the man too.

Both of them, living in their own little world with no Dark Lord, no Order, no battles, no sneaking. Just comfy beds, good food, and conversation. 'And potions for Snape. I think I would like my broom too.' Sitting there, with the covers pulled up to his shoulders, he indulged in the dream for a while longer. Then, he let them drop and the cold reality intruded with the chilly air. Both he and Snape had things to do and he shouldn't delay any longer.

He made it to the dining room before he smelled breakfast. Blinking, he tried to register the eggs, bacon, and toast waiting on him.

"Settle down and dig in, you need to be on the road shortly." Snape set a cup of juice next to a teacup. "I've taken the liberty of putting you together a Muggle first aid kit as well a Wizarding one. There's a macintosh with your bike, it's prone to raining this close to the coast. I've also put a small tarp over your bag on the bike." He sat down at the table and poured his own cup of tea. "After breakfast, we'll go over the route once more and talk about communication. Eat up."

Harry took a vacant chair and dug in. Breakfast was as good as the stew last night. It didn't take him long to finish.

Snape placed a metal disc on the table between them. "It's a compact mirror. There are spells on it to make it practically indestructible. I have its partner. You will be able to talk to me through it. The steel ring in the copper will darken when there is a message waiting for you. Touch the ring and then open the case, and the message will play. Only you will be able to see and hear it. When you need to send a message, touch the ring until it brightens, open the case, and speak your message then close the lid. Only you and I are keyed into the mirrors."

Harry reached for it, his fingertips ghosting close to the ring of steel. "What if Ron or Hermione need to speak to you or hear a message? If … if something happens to me and they have to carry on?"

Snape leant back, his eyes darkening as he thought. "I can set it up so that you can key the other two in."

Harry passed it back to him. Turning it over, Snape drew two symbols on the back with his wand. "One symbol for each of them. They must touch only one."

"Thanks, sir."

Snape nodded and stood from the table. "Your bike is in the back shed. Do you have the map?"

Harry pulled it out of the school bag. "Here it is."

"Review the route while I get the first aid kits." Snape strode off leaving Harry alone.

It wasn't too much longer before Harry was pedalling off.