Okay, I think I'm done wool-gathering; my sheep had shrunk in the rain. And you know how that goes--gotta stretch 'em out, re-block them so they're square again. But I think I got some good results.

MASSIVE THANK YOU's to all my reviewers! The fact that you've taken the time to read and review--some of you every chapter!!--really puts the icing on my Cauldron cakes!!

Snape dropped back to the ground as he finished the spell. Harry hurried over and took his wand from Snape's insensate fingers. He shook Snape's shoulder. "Professor. Wake up! I'm free. Come on, wake up! We've gotta go!" Snape didn't answer.

Harry became aware of the shiny weals still crisscrossing Snape's sallow face. He suddenly felt both grateful yet guilty that either of them were there. He touched his wand to one of the welts and mumbled a counter curse.

Snape woke with a start as the counter curse sparked over his skin. He slapped the wand away, breathing hard, but then his eyes narrowed. A moment later he put his hand to the fading lump. "Don't touch me, Potter," he growled. Snape levered himself onto an elbow and forced himself to his feet. His eyes darkened as he swayed, but he didn't look at Harry. "Why are you still here?"

Harry jumped to his feet. "'Still here'?" he blurted indignantly. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"I told you the grave holds a way out."

Harry didn't understand a word of it and said so. "'The grave?' How does a grave hold a way out?" His tone became belligerent. "I don't understand you! Why don't you just say what you mean? The grave! Which one? There's only about five dozen of them."

Snape sneered. "I do say what I mean. You closed your mind to me, Potter, just when I was explaining it to you. Now you ask me how to get out of here. Now, when it might have been too late! It's a simple answer, Potter, if you would just use your brain and think about what you know."

Harry wanted to hiss at Snape. What am I supposed to know? There were so many gravestones. None really meant anything to him. Except...Riddle's. Harry didn't want to go anywhere near it, but...A way out? How was a grave a way out?

Snape purred, "Still don't understand? How surprising. Then I will tell you, Mr. Potter: Tom Riddle's grave will take you out. All you have to do is touch you wand to it."

Harry hated Snape's leering tone. He was beginning to regret having used that counter curse. Maybe he could lay a stinging hex on Snape, just because..."Wait! You're saying Riddle's grave is a portkey?"

Snape pursed his lips. "No, Potter. Unlike a portkey, it will only work for one person. It will only work for you."

"Oh." Harry slowly approached the stone. As he put his hand to the marker, the dark clouds broke. Sheets of rain washed hair into his eyes. He turned to Snape, standing in the soaking rain. He didn't move. "Aren't you coming?" Snape moved his hand over his arm.

"When I came I knew there was the possibility I wouldn't be able to leave."

Harry stared. Snape was going to stay here? "What? No. No! You would not have come here if you didn't have a way back! You can apparate out of here. That's how you got here, right?"

Snape scoffed. "I could have, if you would have left when you should have." His voice faded. "How could you think I can apparate now?"

Harry was suddenly frightened. Snape was hurt. Hurt for Harry's sake. Had he been wrong? Wrong about Snape? He didn't want to leave the professor here. There was too much danger. The Death Eaters would come and kill him. Snape would die--like Sirius was dead...Harry's fear shifted to anger. "You didn't come to save me of your own accord, did you? You didn't come to protect me. You wouldn't protect anybody! Who sent you? Dumbledore?"

Color drained from Snape's face. He was shouting now, too. "Not protect you? People were trying to protect you before you were even born! They have died for you! Why don't you don't see what is right in front of your face, Potter? But no! As long as you get your own way, follow your own inclinations, you ignore those that are trying to help you...trying to teach you...You, you...Get out of here, before another life is wasted, Potter!"

"Is too late for that," Kreacher cackled to the falling rain. "MAS-TERRRSSS!" he shrieked.