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Harry watched Moody leave and then settled down on his sleeping mat, feeling very drained. His scar soon began to hurt again. Harry lifted his head to see Snape sitting on his own mat. Snape met his gaze and nodded, lifting his left arm to acknowledge that he too felt the sensation.

"He's looking for us." said Harry softly .

"Yes. Albus' foolishness in allowing you to come along may not have killed us just yet." There was more fatigue than venom in Snape's voice. "You never should have come."

The statement was made without malice. Harry, not knowing how to respond, swallowed and lowered his head back down to the mat. He closed his eyes, letting the pain in his head wash over him, until it was too much to take in silence. He gasped and bit his lip, trying to maintain his dignity. The pain grew, intensifying into sharp pains that radiated down Harry's spine, causing the muscles in his back to twitch and cramp. It seemed to go on for hours.

Harry forced his eyes to open, hoping to see Snape standing over him with a vial. He turned his head to see his professor bent over his arm, clutching the mark, grimacing in pain. Harry found himself on his hands and knees, crawling toward Snape and the box containing his potions. He reached for the box, but he was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"There is no more." Snape whispered.

Harry lifted his face to Snape's and nodded his understanding. His strength, physical and emotional, failed him and he collapsed, curling into a fetal position by Snape's knees. Harry found that the pain was easing and he allowed his tears to flow freely, mixing the dirt into mud at his cheek. Snape lifted a shaking hand and placed it on Harry's back and moving it in a hesitant circle.

Harry gasped and stiffened. The small comforting gesture was as much physical affection as he had ever been given, and Harry was shocked that it felt so incredibly good to be touched like that.

Snape pulled his hand up quickly, holding it frozen above Harry's body.

"What?" He demanded sharply. His tone was irritated, but Harry could not stop himself from grinning broadly at what was, for Snape, a show of concern.

Harry rolled on to his back and Snape laid back to glare at the ceiling.

"No, it's just…" Harry began, trying to temper his smile. "Usually… well…people don't…touch me very often."

Harry was startled when Snape uttered a short barking laugh. "Me neither." He responded, causing Harry to laugh in return.

Harry was surprised to wake up in the dark. He had drifted off to sleep lying next to Snape. Harry moved his head, feeling sore where his glasses had been pressed against his skin. After a few minutes his eyes adjusted and he saw Snape's dark form stretched out next to him. Staring at Snape, Harry began to imagine feeling the man's long fingers on his back again. His thoughts turned to Voldemort and the threat of being discovered. He shivered, and felt a strong urge to move closer to Snape and seek whatever security or comfort the man might be willing to give.

Harry removed his glasses and slept again, waking when the dawn was barely perceptible. His eyes adjusted quickly and he saw that Snape was missing. Sitting up and looking across the room, he was relieved to see that everyone else was present and sleeping peacefully. Harry stood and walked outside to urinate. The air had a chill to it and Harry wanted to lie back down on his mat, but he resisted when it occurred to him that he still saw no sign of Snape.

Squinting through the surrounding trees, he looked for any movement, but soon gave up on trying to bring dark objects into focus. He began to walk, trying to find any indication of recent movement through the woods. Aided by the brightening sky, Harry spotted Snape by the creek. He was still some distance away, and the man's back was turned. Snape was stripped to his trousers, washing his face in the water. The man's pale skin seemed to glow in the dim morning light. Harry could make out the criss-cross pattern of scars, old and new, that marred the flesh of Snape's back.

It occurred to Harry that Snape, a currently hunted Death Eater, was probably very aware of his environment at the moment. Flushing at the thought that his presence had been detected, Harry turned and hurried back to the cave. He reclaimed his sleeping mat and closed his eyes, wondering how long he would have to wait until the others woke, eager to find out how McGonagall and Moody had faired.