Harry's body hit the ground with a hard thud that pushed the remainder of his scream out in puff of air. He gasped it out and then breathed in deeply, eyes closing as his lungs filled with fresh night air. For a minute, all he could do was lay there as his mind raced to connect the night's events through the fog that had settled over his brain.

Slowly the feeling in his extremities returned and he dug the fingers of his right hand into the warm soil beneath him. His left arm was draped across his body and, flexing his fingers, he felt for the ribs along his right side. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind he knew that this was his subconscious doing a quick check of his body's condition but surely he was fine; his heart rate was slowing back to normal and there was nothing...

A sharp pain pulled at his side and Harry's eyes opened wide. His hand came away covered in a sticky crimson that reflected the moonlight shining above and he quickly lifted his head to survey the damage. The gruesome scene beneath the frayed edges of his torn jumper made his stomach turn.

The entirety of his right side, from beneath his armpit to the top of his hip, lay open. Beneath the flow of blood, he could see the torn remnants of muscle and other tissue but it was the stark white contrast of his bones that sent his vision swimming. He let his head fall back to the ground as the cold wave of shock drug him under.

"Oh shit, shit, shit," he stammered uncontrollably. The starry sky above began to haze and he closed his eyes again.

A heavy weight settled over the top of him, hands groping painfully at his side. With some effort he pried his eyes open and found Snape pressing his palms against the wound as if it might stopper the flow. The pressure forced a guttural cry from deep inside Harry's chest and he trashed forward.

"Lay still," commanded Snape as Harry tried to toss to his side but Harry wasn't listening; the pain had rendered him deaf.

Snape clambered on top of Harry, using his full weight to pin him to the ground. The professor's hands found Harry's side again but this time a searing ache accompanied the pressure. Harry screamed into the night air, his voice ripping at his vocal cords until he thought they would tear apart. He thrashed against the man holding him down, bringing his arm down in a wild attempt to push him away. Snape easily captured his wrist and pinned it high above his head.

"Potter I'm trying to fix this," he snarled.

Harry forced himself to calm down, to let his body go limp. Snape resumed, his wand now tracing back and forth over the long gash. The burning returned, as if the wound were being cauterized by the tip of the wand. He half expected to see smoke rising from the skin that was surely being burned together.

"S..stop," Harry stammered weakly, twisting his wrist beneath Snape's grip.

"It's almost done," Snape assured him, though his voice sounded just as shaky as Harry felt.

Harry screwed up his face as the pain doubled, cracked lips peeling back until his teeth were bared in what appeared to be a crazed grin. Holding his breath, he pleaded for the pain to cease, tears rolling out of the corners of his tightly clenched eyelids. His thoughts grew fuzy and then, without warning, he was being shaken awake.

"Potter. POTTER!"

Harry's eyes fluttered open and he stared up into the blurry outline of Snape's frowning face. Above him, he could see the familiar canvas ceiling of the tent glowing in warm sunlight. How long had he been out?

"Wha..how..," he mumbled around his abnormally heavy tongue, trying to form a cohesive sentence. He blinked several times and then made to rise.

"Easy," Snape warned and his hand came up to as if to stop him; however, he quickly pulled it back. "You lost quite a bit of blood."

Swinging his legs over the edge of his cot, Harry winced at the pain that traveled down his side. He placed a hand over it and then looked down hesitantly. Instead of the gaping wound he had been met with last time, he found a clean white bandage covering his ribs.

"How does it feel," Snape asked as he handed Harry his glasses.

"It's fine," said Harry. He took the glasses, careful to use his left arm, and then placed them on the bridge of his nose.

"I know that is a lie," Snape said with a roll of his eyes. He drew up a chair and sat down opposite of Harry. "I was able to heal the damage but only time will help the pain. Dark magic has a tendency to leave lasting effects. You are lucky not to have lost an arm."

"And how do you know that," Harry asked indignantly. He suddenly understood why Snape knew so much about the spell that had hit him; it was the same one that he had used on Malfoy, the one he had found scribbled in his potions book under the heading for enemies.

A sardonic grin pulled at the corners of Snape's mouth. "I will admit, teaching it to the Death Eaters might have been a mistake," he said with an air of off-handedness.

Harry could only stare, his mind stuck somewhere between disbelief and annoyance. How could Snape be so calm? He couldn't even begin to fathom the uses they had found for such a spell. The very thought made him instantly ill. He opened his mouth ready to argue but was quickly cut off.

"It doesn't matter now. I can't change the past," Snape said with a dismissive wave. "What matters now is how stupid your decisions were last night. You actually thought that running away was the best option?" The question was spoken quietly but underneath the surface Harry could hear the frustration.

"I didn't-"

"You didn't what? You didn't think he would find you? That you were putting both of our lives in danger?"

Harry felt heat rise to his cheeks and he looked away from that piercing stare. It was just like being back in Potions class and Snape was enjoying the opportunity to belittle him for not having the correct answer. Except, this wasn't potions class and Harry had a very good reason to run away.

"How do you expect me to trust you," he asked without looking up.

"We've been over this," Snape sighed, exasperation now heavy in his words.

"Then explain it! You killed Professor Dumbledore. I watched as-"

"Yes," Snape said sharply. He was leaning forwards now, arms resting on his knees. "I killed Dumbledore. And it was Dumbledore himself that ordered me to."

Harry's head popped up; he must have misheard. He searched Snape's face for any sign of a lie and found him steady. Still, he shook his head in disbelief, a crooked grin creeping across his face.

"That's bollocks," he said slowly. "Why would-"

"Because he was already dying. That curse, the one that had damaged his hand, was spreading. I did as much as I could for him but it was only to prolong the inevitable."

"No," Harry said firmly, his brow creasing. "No. He would have told me."

"Like he told you about all the Horcruxes and how to destroy them," Snape interjected snidely.

The air seemed to deflate from Harry as his mind tried to process everything. Snape was right, Dumbledore had kept so much from him. What else was he missing?

"Dumbledore had his reasons for keeping secrets," Snape continued after a long minute of silence. He stood up from his chair and crossed to the table. "What we need to do is focus on finding these Horcruxes and the only way we are going to do that is by working together."

Harry didn't have to look up to know there was a snarl on that face. He had to admit, the feeling was mutual; still, there was no other way around it. Snape had the knowledge and advanced magic that would prove helpful, and there was also the fact that he had little in the way of other options.

Something cold tapped against his bare shoulder and he looked up to see Snape offering him a clear glass of water. He was right, the former Headmaster's face was lined with a deep scowl. Nonetheless, he took the cool glass with a gracious nod.

"We will also need to focus on Occlumency lessons," he continued. He reclaimed his seat with a low grown and then took a sip of his own water.

Harry, who thought his hopes could fall no lower, felt his stomach drop. He took a long drink of water, relishing the immediate cooling effect it had on his dry throat, and then answered calmly.

"It only made things worse last time."

"You are older now and the situation is much more dire," countered Snape. "If the Dark Lord is allowed to continue looking inside your mind, he will find new ways to manipulate you."

"Is that how he knew where we were," Harry asked. He was careful to avoid the subject of the voice he had been hearing. He wasn't quite ready for Snape to know that.

"Yes. And that is why we will be avoiding any specific landmarks from here on out until we get it under control."

"So, I'm not allowed to know where we are," Harry asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Precisely," Snape agreed before taking another drink. "As long as we stay away from any towns we should be okay."

Silence overtook them once again as Harry let all of the new information sink in. He took another drink and then turned the glass up, surprised at how thirsty he had become. Draining the remaining water, he turned the empty cup over in his hands and a thought came to mind. How were they going to find Horcruxes if Voldemort knew what they were after? Surely, he would collect them or perhaps he thought they were safe. He was about to express this concern to Snape when his stomach let out a loud growl.

"Ah," Snape said, apparently being pulled from his own thoughts by the sound. He rose again and handed Harry his wand from the table. "Since you have a way to protect yourself now, should you need it, I am going to apparate to the nearest town and gather some more supplies."

He withdrew a small brown leather coin purse from inside the bag that lay open on the table and then grabbed his wand.

"I shouldn't be gone long. Stay in bed until I get back. I don't need you passing out from lack of food while I'm gone."

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes but he didn't argue. There was a good chance he might actually faint if he tried to stand right now. Snape eyed him briefly, like a parent trying to convey their seriousness with a single look, then the Professor turned and left the tent.

Snape was only gone for an hour but it was enough time for Harry to lose himself completely in his doubts. He could see no way for them to find, let alone obtain, the remaining Horcruxes. Just the thought of it filled him with a gnawing ache of anxiety somewhere deep in his chest. Perhaps after some food they would be able to compile a plan forward.

And then there was the Occlumency lessons looming ahead of him. It had been almost unbearable before, he could only imagine that after recent events it would be impossible. Yet, he knew it was necessary. Even for the short amount of time Snape was gone, he had heard that soft whisper inside his head swirling doubts about his safety and promising that things would be better if he just left. He knew what it was now, but at times it was hard to discern them from his own thoughts.

After returning, Snape had set to work on preparing them a warm lunch, or perhaps it was supper, either way Harry was more than ready to have something substantial in his stomach. He could feel his insides gnawing away as the smell of food simmering filled the tent; however, his appetite wavered a little as a grey smoke soon replaced the delicious aroma.

Half an hour later, a sour looking Snape pressed a warm bowl into his hands. What was inside could only be described as a failed attempt of mashed potatoes and sausages. The yellow potatoes were an odd mixture of gummy and crispy and the sausages were burnt beyond recognition. Hesitantly, he poked one with a fork and bit off the end. They tasted as expected.

"I would have thought that, ah, being a, um, master of potions would have..." He cut his sentence short as Snape fixed him with a deadly stare. His lips quirked into a smirk and he quickly looked down at his food.

Despite the burnt taste, he devoured the entire bowl and even asked for seconds. He ate until it felt as if his stomach might burst. Setting the bowl aside, he let out a long satisfied sigh.

"I see you had no problem eating it," Snape quipped. He had finished well before Harry and was sitting in one of the chairs near the fire pit, a book lying open across his lap.

"I think I would have eaten anything," Harry said. He slowly made his way to the sitting area and folded himself into a chair. "Now what?"

Snape looked up from his book again and shook his head. "I think it best we rest tonight. We can start fresh tomorrow. There's no use in practicing Occlumency when both of us are exhausted."

A wave of relief washed over Harry and he quickly repressed a smile. That was one less thing he had to worry about tonight. Nodding, he gestured to his cot with a hook of his thumb.

"I think I'm going to go to bed then," he said. Snape was right, he was exhausted.

Snape had returned to his book and merely inclined his head to acknowledge Harry. Hopefully, the rest of the night would be just as uneventful.