Andrew didn't stop until he had put three hours difference between himself and Voldemort, hoping he it would be enough. He needed to get some food into Ella or she wouldn't last the long journey back to London. He also needed to find out exactly where London was from where they were. The lights in all the shops that lined the street were out, giving the cobblestone road an eerie feeling. Though Andrew didn't think anyone was awake to see a cat transform into a human, he didn't want to take any chances. He slid into an alley and, after transforming back into his human form, returned Ella to her rightful body.

As he struggled down the deserted street, he wished he could cast a weightless charm on her but knew full well he could do nothing of the kind. Any muggle they were likely to meet would surely wonder why a girl, of at least a little substance, weighed no more than a feather. He felt a wave of sadness wash over him though, as he felt how very little substance she had. The rags of her dress were falling off her shoulders and the waist, which had hugged her so perfectly three months ago, now looked formless. Her cheeks were more hollow than before and her arms looked weak, like two sacks of bones.

Andrew walked the whole length of the street before coming to a lighted window. It was a small pub and, though the sign on the door said "Closed", Andrew knocked.

"Can't you read a sign?" came an irritated voice from inside.

"Sir, I don't want a drink; we're dead on our feet and I need to know the quickest way to London." Andrew responded, shifting Ella slightly. He was not so buff himself. No reply came but instead, the sound of shuffling feet and jangling keys. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal an old man with a shiny bald head and a tiny, sliver pair of spectacles. He was dressed simply in a white shirt, sleeves rolled up the elbow, and a pair of black slacks. He had a damp, wrinkled dish rag slung over his shoulder and an impatient look on his face.

"Come in," he said, rolling his eyes and stepping aside. With a grin of appreciation, Andrew stepped in and looked around. All of the chairs were on top of the tables and the floor had just been swept. But Andrew didn't see any of that; all he saw was that it was warm, and clean, and safe. The barkeep took the chairs off of one of the tables silently. "Put the girl on the table and we'll have a little talk," he muttered gruffly. Andrew nodded and lay Ella on the top of the table. He then followed the man up to the front of the pub and sat on the stool offered to him.

"Thank you so much sir-" Andrew began but was interrupted.

"Look boy, what's your name and business here?"

"My name's Matthew Johnson and that's my sister, Emma," he lied easily, gesturing to Ella's sleeping form.

"Well Johnson, I'd really like to know how you an your sister came to look like refugees." Andrew sighed deeply, resting his hands lightly on the bar. This was going to take some quick thinking

"My sister's sick, sir, as you can well see. We, well, it's our father. He-he did this to us and we've just narrowly escaped. I've been traveling all night to get here and just ran out of steam." Andrew finished, feeling only slightly guilty for making up the story.

"Oh," the barkeep said softly, looking down at the scrubbed, wood surface. His face had paled slightly. He ran a hairy hand over his bald head. "My name's Ian, Ian Suttles," he put out his hand and Andrew took it, shaking it with as much strength as he could muster.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Suttles."

"Call me Ian, none of that "Mr. Suttles" rubbish; I'll think you're the health inspector." Andrew started chuckling but it quickly turned into a cough. He put his hand up to his mouth and steadied himself on the counter with the other. "That's quite a cough you've got there Johnson."

"It's nothing," Andrew replied weakly, thumping his chest. "And please, call me Matthew."

"Look, what do you want?"

"We need some food and directions to London."

"And some blankets probably? Maybe some warm clothes if I can find 'em."

"That would be wonderful." Ian nodded and exited the room, trudging up the stairs to what Andrew could only assume was his flat. He appeared a few minutes later with two blankets, a black rain-slicker, a long, yellow, woolen scarf, and a knit cap.

"It's not much but it's all I can spare."

"It's more than enough, thank you."

"Now let me get you some food," Ian ducked down under the counter and rummaged around, resurfacing a moment later with a half loaf of bread and a couple lumps of cheese. He wrapped them up in wax paper and put them in a plastic grocery bag. He shoved two water bottles in as well. "Now, to get to London you-well, couldn't you take the train?" Andrew shook his head slowly, hoping Ian wouldn't ask him why; he didn't but instead, continued. "Okay," he pulled out a map and a pencil. "You're here," he said, circling a small dot on the map. "You're a good fifty miles from London; you see, you're near Canterbury. On foot with a girl in your arms, it'll take you a long while but you'll get there." He then proceeded to give a set of very detailed directions. He had combed the surrounding woods hunting, he explained. "Here, take the map." Ian finished, sliding the map across the counter to Andrew.

"Thank you. We'll go now. It'll be an hour or so till daybreak."

"Don't you want to rest a while longer?"

"No, I'll rest when the sun comes out. Thank you so much." Andrew folded and pocketed the map, gathering up the things Ian had given them. As he walked toward Ella, he pulled on the coat, shoved the cap on his head, and wrapped the scarf around his neck. He swathed Ella in the two blankets, tying them securely so they wouldn't slip. After he had the bag of food hung over his arm, he picked up Ella and turned to Ian who was shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Thank you again. I don't know what we would have done without you."

"It was now problem. Best of luck Matthew, and I hope Emma will be better soon. God bless." Andrew bowed his head slightly before ducking out the door.

The air outside was cold and crisp and Andrew felt an exhilarating sense of solidarity. He put one foot in front of the other, moving toward the wood that surrounded the little town. When, he wondered with a sudden thrill, would they discover the escape? Half of him wished he could be there to see the look on Lucius Malfoy's face when he realized what had happened. As soon as they had entered the cover of the wood, Andrew set Ella down on the ground. With a quick swish of the wand and a muttered spell, she was feather-light. He had considered a levitation spell but he wanted to be close to her, feel her heartbeat against his chest.

Without the burden of Ella's weight, Andrew made quick time. He happened to have inherited an almost dog-like sense of direction from his father and, with the aid of the map Ian had given him, he was sure he was moving in the right direction. The silence that surrounded him forced him to think, think harder and more in-depth than he had in a long time.

Escaping Voldemort, he decided, was by far the most daring thing he had done in his whole life. His father had always said there was a bit of his mother in him, a bit of the McNabb blood in his veins. He hadn't seen it up until that night. He had always thought himself the exact replica of his straight laced, proper, very English father with the slight exception of a perfect poker face.

His father Edmund J. Gibson had nearly had a heart attack when his son had received his Hogwarts letter. He only learned later that his dear, deceased wife Rhian had been a witch. She had never found the right time to tell her husband of her identity before she died in child birth. Edmund was an accountant at a firm in Nottingham. He had never quite gotten used to the fact that his son was a wizard, though he loved the boy immensely.

Andrew's thoughts shifted from memories of his father to Ella. Something had changed in him since she had been put in his room. A white hot sensation had spread over his heart, emanating through his whole body, an altogether wonderfully warm feeling. At school, he had never been the Casanova of his year. Girls, for the most part, scared him. From what he could see, they were unapproachable, indiscernible, and unpredictable. Ella, however, felt different. She was so kind and sweet, so real. She could, with a glance, make him completely melt. With a smile on her cracked lips, his entire being lifted off the ground. In a dusty, seldom used corner of his brain, he wondered, for a moment, if what he was feeling was love.

Andrew came into a clearing just as the sky became brushed with sunrise. He looked up at the sky, drinking in the sight of it. He had not seen so much as a cloud in months. He felt a thrill of triumph. He had done what no one up till that point had done and Ella, his Ella was safe.

Deciding it would be in their best interest to get cover, Andrew walked out of the clearing and back into the wood. He saw a large rock a few paces from them and it looked like a good place to make camp. Once behind the rock, Andrew collapsed. He took out the wand and took away the charm on Ella. Something about the regaining of her weight made Ella stir. Her eyes slowly flickered open, looking straight into Andrew's face.

"Good morning sunshine," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "We should eat. See, I've got bread and cheese. Can you believe we're going to have something other than bread and water?"

"W-where am I?" she asked faintly, her voice weak and tired.

"About forty five or fifty miles south of London," Andrew answered.

"What? How?"

"We escaped last night. I won't give you all the details now; you need to eat." Careful not to move her too much, he pulled the bag off his arm. He took out a slice of bread and broke off a piece of cheese. "Here, eat," he offered her the food. She raised her eyebrows and Andrew chuckled. "Right, I forgot." He untied the blanket and she stretched her arms, sitting up in his lap. She blushed a little and attempted to scoot off of him. Slightly disappointed, Andrew helped her. She took the food he offered and tentatively put it to her lips.

She ate slowly, chewing each small bite methodically. "Where are we going?" She asked after swallowing her last bite.

"London," Andrew answered simply. Ella nodded slightly, resting her head against rock.

"I feel so odd, like all of my energy is seeping through my fingertips. I'm just so tired." She closed her eyes.

"You should sleep. Don't worry; we're going to wait till noon before we start moving again." Andrew murmured. Ella nodded and soon fell asleep, her head falling to rest on his shoulder. Andrew didn't dare close his eyes but instead examined the map. Perhaps they could reach London in two days. Maybe they could hitch a ride the rest of the way; he had no idea what the next day would bring.

A/N: This delay is due to a lot of things. One of which is that our term is about to end and I've had a million things to think about. The other reason, one that will, I hope make you excited, is that this was originally just part of one chapter. I've got a total of fifteen pages written and it was just getting too big. I decided to split the chapters but the next one will be up in a couple of days (maybe later today). I'm sorry it's taken so long but thank you all for the reviews. I hope to post more regularly from this point onward. REVIEW! I want to know what you think.