Note: I know I've been saying it a lot lately but sorry for the wait. Life can be hectic.

The sounds of softly singing birds woke Severus in the early hours of morning. The first rays of dawn were just beginning to filter through the tent walls as he shifted uncomfortably in the armchair he had drifted off in. His neck ached and he relished the pull of his tight tendons as he stretched. It had been years since he had slept in anything other than a bed.

It had been a long night. His nerves had been on edge and sleep was the last thing on his busy mind. He had worried mostly about the enchantments he had placed on their surroundings. Would they be enough to stop someone from finding them? He was confident but still that poisonous thought had burrowed deep into his brain spreading fear and doubt until it corrupted everything around him. Every snap of a branch, rustle of leaves, and breath of wind had been transformed into a mass of cloaked figures descending on them in the night.

And then there had been the boy. The nightmares had started almost immediately after he had gone to bed; he had thrashed over and over and then the screaming had started. Severus had been tempted to wake him but he knew it would do little good. Judging by the silence now, however, Potter had managed…

Severus's eyes landed on the top bunk and his heart seemed to stop. The bed was empty. The blanket was gone and the sheet was hanging from the railing. Leaping to his feet, Severus scanned the small area inside the tent but found nothing.

"Potter," he called and he sprinted towards the opening, all thought of stiffness gone from his mind. "Potter!"

Throwing back the flap door, Severus rushed into the cold morning air and then came to a sudden stop. There, just outside the tent, the boy sat wrapped in the patchwork blanket from his bed. He was staring out across the frost-covered forest and for a moment Severus stared with him.

In the light of day a river was visible just beneath the hill they were camped on. A multitude of broken limbs littered the forest floor, a present left behind by last night's storm no doubt. Despite the damage, it was a beautiful picture to behold with the sun reflecting off of the ice-coated foliage. However, the awe didn't last long and anger quickly consumed Snape's worry.

"What the hell do you think you are doing," he demanded. The soft crunch of frozen spring grass beneath his feet echoed around them as he stepped forward. The boy inclined his head slightly but didn't answer; his green eyes were fixed on the horizon. "Get back inside."

Potter did not move. Standing in front of the boy, Severus could now see how pale his face was and his lips were the softest shade of blue.

"How long have you been out here," he asked more calmly than before.

"I couldn't tell you," Harry replied with a disinterested shrug.

"Harry you're cold." The concern had returned and was now slowly creeping into his voice despite his best efforts to contain it. "Let's go inside before you freeze to death."

He could see the eyebrows knit together as Potter seemed to consider the words or, perhaps, the sincerity hiding just beneath the surface of those words. "Now, Potter," he quickly added.

With a puff of steamy breath, Potter pushed himself up from the frozen ground and pulled the damp blanket closer around him. The stiffness in his movements did not go unnoticed but Severus made no remark of it. Instead, he grasped the boy tightly by the elbow and maneuvered him towards the tent. Once inside, he directed him to a wooden bench that lined the small kitchen table and he took the seat without arguing.

"We don't have much in the way of food," Severus said as he riffled through the bag he had left on the table the night before. He placed two oranges, a small sack of bright red apples, and a loaf of bread beside the bag and then pursed his lips. "We can always get more supplies in town."

"I'm not hungry," Potter croaked without looking up.

"We both know that is a lie," Severus continued with a bit of irritation. He was capable of understanding why Potter was being so stubborn; after all, months of torture and neglect didn't just disappear now that he had been rescued, but the thought of dealing with it at every turn sparked a flame of agitation that would not be easily snuffed. "You forget who brewed those potions that have sustained you up until this point. I know for a fact that your body needs food."

There was a grumble across the table that sounded suspiciously like 'haven't forgotten anything', but instead of the normal feeling of anger that accompanied Potter's cheek, he felt a small glimmer of satisfaction. Every snarky remark was another step closer to reviving the boy's pride that had been beaten out of him.

Withdrawing his wand from inside the pocket of his corduroy trousers, Severus divided an apple into fourths and sliced the bread into manageable pieces. He pushed half of the apple and a piece of bread across the table and then, taking his own piece, turned and began to rummage through the cabinets. He was looking for nothing in particular, but it was possible the previous owners had left behind something useful.

"W'ere are we," came the muffled question.

A small smile pulled at the corners of Severus's lips. Questions were good. Eating was good. Another forward stride of progression on what he assumed would be a long journey.

"A small wooded area outside of Cokeworth," he answered without turning from his search.

"W'ere's 'at?"

"It does matter," Severus said, abandoning his fruitless hunt. He sat down on the opposite bench and eyed the boy who had crammed the entire quarter of apple into his mouth. "What matters is where we go from here. You'll need a wand and while I could easily procure one, I think it best we find your original."

Potter was just poking a piece of bread past his cracked lips when he stopped and looked up. The fear in his eyes said it all.

"It's at Grimmuald Place," Severus asked but there was no need for an answer. It was obvious now that he thought about it. It had not been with the boy when he had been captured on Halloween which meant he had sent it with one of the others during their escape.

The boy nodded and then quickly looked down at the bread in his hands. The memories would be coming back; there was no hope in avoiding them now that they were on the subject of that night.

"Where exactly?"

Hesitation. It was a pause so long, the silence so deep, that Severus assumed he had already lost the ground he had fought so hard to gain. The boy would clearly slip back into muteness and nothing would be accomplished. He pinched the bridge of his crooked nose, closing his eyes as frustration leaked through him like noxious gas. Perhaps tomorrow...

"A bag."

The whisper was so faint that at first Severus assumed it to be the wind. His eyes snapped open and he could see the boy picking at the soft center of the bread that was resting on the table.

"Excuse me?"

The boy clenched his eyes closed as if having to repeat himself was causing excruciating pain.

"It's in a bag," he repeated softly. "A b-beaded handbag. She-she had everything in there."

By she, he surely meant the Granger girl; of the four of them, she would have been the one to plan so meticulously.

"We can go after we finish eating. The manor has been vacant since-"

"I'm not going," Potter interrupted, clearly startled by the idea of returning to the place where he had lost everything.

Severus ran his tongue across his teeth as he debated his next move. He couldn't allow Potter to stay here alone. If something were to happen, if someone were to find him, he would be completely helpless without a wand. He might as well hand him over on a silver platter. And yet, dragging him back to that place, where so many terrible memories lurked in the dark corridors...

"Potter," Severus began, a calculated calmness in his voice. "We have to get your wand back. Without it-"

"Then you go get it."

"Don't you think I want too. It would be easier for me to go alone, but I will not chance leaving you here unarmed."

Potter seemed to consider this and the silence returned as his eyes fixed upon the bread his twitching fingers had destroyed. Severus could see the concern and doubt swirling in that vacant gaze and he knew he only had one chance to convince him. With a soft sigh, he pushed on carefully.

"All I ask is that you go. You can wait by the door if you so choose."

There seemed to be a question forming but judging by the sifting eyes and tight pressed lips, Potter was having difficultly putting it into words. He opened his mouth and then closed it again quickly, as if afraid it might slip out. In the end, it came out in a hushed stammering that didn't quite have the momentum to reach the end.

"Are..are t-they still…"

Severus didn't need to hear the rest. Despite his overwhelming distaste for the boy, he couldn't help but feel the sharp sting of pity at the unfinished question.

"No," he answered in a matter-of-fact tone that perfectly masked his unwanted feelings. "No, they were removed the same night."

He didn't dare offer any more information; by the look on Potter's face, it was thankfully enough. Tears streaked silently down his rosy cheeks and he nodded.

"The Dark Lord will not be expecting us to return there," he pressed on quickly, seeing it best to put as much distance between the subject as possible. "However, it would be unwise for us to stay long. We will find the bag and return here for the night. I don't dare apparate more than we have to until you are in better health."

"I'm fine."

"You say that," Severus said as he stood up and rounded the table. He grasped Potter firmly by the chin and tilted his bruised face into the light. The prominent cheek bones were severely discolored but seemed to be unbroken. "You have at least a dozen injuries. Not to mention a knee that has healed improperly. Let's see your back."

Potter pulled his face away with a scathing glare but, with a roll of his eyes, he dropped the blanket to the floor and pulled his shirt up to reveal the lashes that crisscrossed his skin. They had made some progress but not enough to brag about just yet. The lacerations had scabbed over but the skin around them was still an angry shade of red. Cautiously, Severus placed his fingertips against the swollen skin, testing the temperature and, as expected, he found it blazing hot. The infection had been worse than he had anticipated but with some time and care it would heal. But how much time could they afford?

"The infection is under control at least," he said, reaching across Harry's shoulder to grab a small bottle of Essence of Dittany. He unstoppered it and slowly poured out several drops along the wound. The boy took a sharp intake of breath as the green smoke billowed up from the skin before dissipating in the cold air. "However, they will most likely reopen during our travel." That was the problem with apparating; it was rough on the body, especially one as frail as Potter's seemed to be.

Lowering the shirt, Severus replaced the cork into the bottle and returned it to the table. He then grabbed another vial and handed it to Harry.

"Take this. It's the same potion you took last night," he added bitterly as the boy snarled his nose in protest. "It helps with the fever and pain. You will need it before we leave."

Once Potter had swallowed the contents, Severus motioned for him to stand. "I need you to understand something," he said, eyes narrowing to portray the seriousness of what he was about to say. "Whatever I tell you, no matter how small it may seem, you must obey."

Potter let out a sarcastic chuckle and shook his head. It was evident he was about to argue and Severus quickly cut him off.

"See, that is the problem," Severus growled through gritted teeth. "Your life is in my hands now and I cannot protect you if you are constantly challenging me at every turn. So, if I say run or stop or be quite you are going to do so immediately, correct?"

There was a cold look in the boy's eyes as stood but he nodded nonetheless. "Good," Severus said and he grasped his arm tightly above the elbow. "Now, stay close."

With that, he turned on the spot and pulled them off into the awaiting darkness.