Ok, Chapter 7 should be at least another page long, but I decided to split the last part off to start Chapter 8. Sufficed to say, Chapter 8 will be up shortly after this chapter. If it's not when you read this, try again shortly. It shouldn't take me long to finish it and edit it for reading.
The dark figure slowly walked back down the cliffs, watching the path carefully so that it wouldn't trip. It was dark now and the trail was rocky enough to send anyone tumbling in a hurry.
The dark figure's attention was so focused, in fact, that it did not notice the two other figures that stood in the shadows watching it pass down the path. The figure didn't even allow its mind to contemplate its own precarious position until it'd reached the beach. There it was safe, safe to contemplate what the Dark Lord would do tomorrow night when he received the turncoat and Harry Potter.
An evil smile stretched the dark figure's pale face hidden deep in its cowl as it imagined success. The Dark Lord would probably make it his top man. And perhaps even skip the requisite torture in doing so.
The dark figure decided it liked that idea better than what would happen if the dark lord was still angry about what its comrades had tried to do.
"Fools," the dark figure muttered as it finally reached the cave.
It climbed inside and was met with visions of the dark lord's displeasure instead of the misery of its captives, since there were no longer any captives there to be miserable.
"No," the figure screamed in horror. "He'll be here tomorrow night! They have to be here, or I'm dead!"
A quick search of the cave turned up no evidence, but tumbling out of the cave did. It fell right next to a badly covered up puddle of throw up and blood.
The figure grinned in a moment of hope. The two would be slowed down by the boy's illness. It still stood a chance!
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Snape half carried, half dragged an unconscious Harry up the path back to civilization. He ignored the pain in his wrist, which probably was broken from his earlier fall if not from further injury during his panicked lifting of Harry in the cave, and held Harry's body a little closer to himself.
Snape was seriously worried about the boy. He'd noticed when he was throwing up that blood was also coming up. And there was also the fact that he had passed out twice already. Snape had to find a wizard's house quickly before Harry died.
Snape shuddered at the thought of Harry dying. He might have done everything possible to make the boy's life miserable, but he could not reconcile the idea of him dying. Harry was supposed to be blessed, nothing could touch him. But life wasn't so neatly put together that Harry would never be touched, he could be and would be. And this time, if it did, it would be his, Severus Snape's, fault.
He shouldn't have allowed them to be caught mid-rescue. That was the stupidest move he'd ever made, right next to his joining You-Know-Who all those years ago. If he had only paid more attention to his surroundings, then he'd have had Harry back at the castle and in Poppy's capable hands by now.
Harry began squirming against him and Snape stepped off to the side of the path to lay him down the soft grass that lined it. They were on the path back into town and the pub that Snape had arrived at by floo-powder.
"Potter," Snape said softly, hoping to not attract any attention. Their captor would know they were gone and be on their trail by now.
Harry moaned and coughed weakly, a bit of blood coming up as well.
Snape cursed, "You are sick, aren't you, boy?"
Harry looked as surprised as Snape felt at his unaccustomed soft tone of voice. He was actually being nice!
"Professor," Harry began weakly, "why are you doing this?"
"Doing what," Snape asked him surlishly as he wiped Harry's face.
"Taking care of me. Rescuing me," Harry told him.
"This may surprise you, Potter," Snape told him snappily, "but I'm not a monster. If I have to teach you, you're going to be alive for me to teach you."
Harry coughed out a little laugh, "I never slept in your class. Had to keep Malfoy busy."
Snape bit back a smile at that, the two boys always reminded him of when he went to go school. He supposed things never changed.
"Enough of this chatter," Snape told him gruffly. "We have to find a wizard's house."
Harry nodded and, with Snape's help, made his way to his feet. Together they started back off, though Snape was sure it had been faster when he was dragging Harry. For his part, Harry was doing all he could simply to continue movement and not give into the urge to regurgitate his stomach.
After about another hour Snape spied a light ahead of them. It sat in the middle of no where and, as Snape drew closer, he saw that it looked like a wizard's house. He smiled grimly and hugged Harry closer to him.
Harry groaned and squirmed, "Professor, is that a house?"
"Yes, Potter. People do not usually give off light and smoke," Snape answered as he noted the smoke that rose serenely from the house's chimney.
Harry moaned and took a deep breath to ask, "Are we stopping here?"
Snape stopped to consider the question. He had been needing to find a wizard's fireplace to make it back to the castle, but he'd been planning on using the one he'd come here by. He knew that fireplace to be safe without a doubt, this house he did not know was safe. Perhaps this was where the remaining member of the kidnapers lived, as he couldn't see anyone who wanted to deal with Voldemort going near any of the Muggle inns in the area.
Snape looked back down at Harry and shook his head. Harry was soaked in his own sweat and felt as though he would burst into flames at any moment. He was obviously dead on his feet, and his constant coughing and dry heaves had Snape believing that the phrase might soon be more than metaphorical.
Snape sighed and lifted Harry into a better position under his arm, noting how very small the boy seemed. He started forward again, eliciting a pained gasp of surprise from Harry.
"We're going in," Snape growled in defeat. But he silently vowed to make absolutely sure the house was safe before dragging Harry inside.
They reached the house not long after and Snape made straight for a clump of bushes under a window.
"Stay here," Snape told him. "I will be back shortly."
"But, Professor," Harry protested, struggling to sit back up.
"Potter, do as you're told for once in your miserable life before you finally succeed in getting us both killed," Snape growled viciously at him.
Harry looked extremely surprised and vaguely defiant before he settled back into the bushes and quietly allowed his professor to cover him with the bush.
Snape had just finished and was walking away, thankful that the boy had finally done as he'd told him to, when a soft voice called out, "Professor Snape...?"
Snape growled and swung back around, ready to tell the fool off when Harry's next words brought him up short.
"Please be careful."
No one, not even Dumbledore, had ever been able to stop Snape in his full tirade mode, but Snape was amazed to discover that this was exactly what the Potter boy had done. With three simple, softly spoken words, Harry Potter had stopped Professor Severus Snape in his tracks and even caused a bit of warmth to creep into his long frozen heart.
Unsure of how to answer, Snape turned back to his task and crept nervously around to the front of the house, certain that he'd be seen by the Deatheater wanna-be at any moment.
Next Chapter: The House
