Chapter 26

Severus' wide eyes locked onto an unfamiliar set staring back at him. His entire body was weak with exhaustion, shock, and agony. Pain seemed to particularly emanate from his chest and sides. It felt like someone was stabbing him with a hot poker in his midsection.

Parting his moistened lips, Severus tried to speak. Endless questions filled his muddled consciousness. Where was he? How did he get there? And who was standing over him?

The stranger effortlessly lifted a hand and covered the wizard's mouth to prevent him from speaking but there was no need. Severus doubted that he had the strength.

"Don't speak," he heard the strange man said in an accented voice. "Save you strength."

Severus blinked quickly partly because his vision was going in and out of focus and partly to stay his exhaustion. He needed answers to his questions. He especially needed to know who this man was. He didn't look dangerous but looks could be deceiving. There was also a nagging feeling growing inside of him that there was something important that he should see to, but he couldn't think through his disorientation.

Putting forth the effort to clear his mind, Severus did what he normally did when he needed to organize his thoughts: focus on one particular detail and go from there. He had noted an accent when the man had spoken to him before. It sounded German. But why would he be in Germany? It didn't make any sense.

His gaze fell away from the man and began scanning his surroundings for any sort of clue. His confusion set in deeper when nothing stood out to him. Nothing was familiar. Then his gaze settled on a face that he did recognize. Harry Potter was sleeping soundly no more than twenty feet away from him.

Phaedrus watched as the wounded man's eyes finally fell upon Harry. What followed was expected but he knew that the man need to rest more than anything.

Severus, ignoring his body's painful protest, attempted to climb out of the bed. His limb's were stiff and sore and felt as if weights were attached to them but at least he had the answer to one of his questions. He now knew why he would be in Germany. His sense of urgency to protect Harry continued to cloud his better judgment.

Anticipating the man's reaction, Phaedrus reacted quickly. Being careful not to grab the man anywhere that he was injured, he gripped his uninjured arm and gained leverage under the man's injured arm. Swiftly returning him to his original position, Phaedrus held him in place.

Too spent to struggle, Severus was easily rolled over on his back. Now, only his eyes remained fixated on Harry.

Phaedrus was worried that the foreigner might struggle against him, but apparently he was too weak. Unfortunately a new problem was beginning to surface. His breathing rate had increased to the point that Phaedrus feared he might be in the beginning stages of a panic attack. Clearly, he was concerned for his son and needed to know that he was all right.

Taking hold of the distraught man's chin, Phaedrus gently forced him to take his eyes away from Harry and bring them back to looking at him.

For a few seconds, Severus fought against what the stranger was trying to do but it was useless. His field of vision was severed from Harry and now he found himself helplessly staring back at the man who was keeping him from the teen.

"Listen to me," Phaedrus entreated. "You must be calm. Your son is fine, he's only asleep."

Severus' brow furrowed out of confusion, his son? Why did this man think Harry was his son?

Phaedrus instinctively felt that the man was preparing to make another attempt to reach Harry.

Severus glanced in Harry's direction but he still couldn't see him. Turning his gaze back to the man holding him firmly in place, Severus noticed that he looked torn between something. He heard the man sigh as if he had reached a decision that he didn't particularly like.

"I'll bring him to you," Phaedrus said after a pause. "But you must stay here and be as still as you can. If you move too much you could tear your wounds."

Severus' muscles relaxed slightly. He was surprised at how relieved he felt. He didn't know if he had the strength to manage the distance between himself and Harry and yet he knew that he had to make sure the boy was going to be okay. Though his muscles ached, he couldn't relax them fully. He was too anxious about Harry.

Apparently satisfied that his patient wouldn't try getting up again, Phaedrus released him and made his way over to the youth. Kneeling down, he slid his arms underneath Harry and adroitly scooped him up with the blanket still covering his body. Taking delicate steps so he wouldn't stir the limp child in his arms, Phaedrus made his way to the bed and laid him next to his father.

Severus wanted to sit up so that he would be able to inspect Harry more meticulously but the pain cutting through his chest was so intense that he thought he might pass out if he tried. Settling for his current angle of observation, Severus lifted a shaky and blood stained hand to Harry's cheek. He felt feverish and there was a bandage that ran across his forehead and continued around the rest of his head. The image of Harry's head colliding with the boulder in the river and then Harry sinking under the water resurfaced in Severus' mind.

He cast his eyes down to Harry's body which was still covered by the blanket.

Seeing that the man was looking at the boy's body, Phaedrus uncovered Harry so that his father could see that he wasn't hurt.

Severus ran a quick scan over Harry's body. The Gryffindor was only clothed in a pair of boxers so Severus could see most of his body and concluded that Harry seemed to be fine other than a few cuts and bruises.

Phaedrus saw the man's gaze return to Harry's face. Covering the boy again, Phaedrus looked over his father. He needed to dress those wounds to keep out infection. Leaving the two foreigners, he returned to the adjacent room and opened his cupboard. The closest town was a three day hike from his cottage so he bought most of his supplies in bulk. Lowering himself to his knees, he winced at the soreness of his own joints. Trying his best to ignore his pain, he began rummaging through the bottom of the cupboard. It took him a few seconds to locate everything for which he was searching.

Minutes later, Phaedrus was back at the bedside with clean bandages and a bottle of alcohol. Harry's father had already fallen asleep and was breathing normally again, much to Phaedrus' relief.

Pouring a small amount of alcohol, the werewolf swabbed at the wizard's wounds with a light pressure. When he had finished, he dressed the wounds with the clean bandages and covered the man up to his chest with a blanket.

Leaning back in his chair, Phaedrus' exhaustion washed over him like wave in the ocean. He glanced over at Harry who was sleeping peacefully despite his fever. He would probably sleep for a long time. Phaedrus' eyes shot back to Harry's father. If he lived, he would likely sleep for days. There was really no telling how long it would be.

Allowing his head to rest on the back of his chair, Phaedrus found himself feeling more hopeful about the man's chances of living. His waking had really been a blessing in disguise. He seemed inexplicably better now, as if just being near his son had a healing effect. His thoughts clouding over in fatigue, Phaedrus' lids grew heavier as he gradually gave in to sleep.

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The next morning's frost blanketed the grounds of Hogwarts. As the sun grew higher in the pale blue sky, a flock of owls delivering the Daily Prophet to various teachers and students speckled the morning horizon. It had only been a few weeks since the abduction of Harry Potter and Professor Snape. Though, more and more students were beginning to speculate that Professor Snape had not really been abducted, but had participated in a clever ruse to bring Harry to the Dark Lord. After this morning, however, it would become more than speculation to the majority of the student body at Hogwarts.

Albus Dumbledore was eyeing the front page headline as Minerva McGonagall stormed into his office.

"Morning, Minerva," he addressed his Deputy Headmistress without looking up from the paper. He had certainly been expecting her after seeing the headline, 'Minister of Magic Confirms Snape's Guilt in Potter Kidnapping.'

Slamming the crumpled paper on the headmasters' desk, Minerva was seething. "Who does that fool think he is?" she demanded. "He has no evidence! Ronald Weasley is the only witness to the kidnapping and Fudge refuses to listen to one word that boy says. Did you read what they called him?"

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"'Ronald Weasley is a preposterous witness. Obviously suffering from dementia from the trauma of seeing his best friend abducted by a trusted professor,'" Ron read incredulously from Cornelius Fudge's quote in the Daily Prophet. "What the bloody hell does that mean?!?"

Hermione Granger sat across from him in the dinning hall. Both were too disgusted to eat anything.

Hermione had obtained her own copy of the paper and was intensely reading the article for the fifth time. "It means he thinks you're insane," she answered distractedly.

"I know what it means!" Ron shouted.

Hermione shot Ron an annoyed look and went back to reading the paper. When she had finished, she cocked her head to the side and perused the Slytherin table. Many of the faces were blank. It wasn't the reaction she had expected. It seemed as if many of the students were unhappy about having their Head of House called a Voldemort supporter. Malfoy especially looked displeased. Since the death of his father, he was quiet and subdued. Most of the time, he sat alone. Hermione found herself pitying him. Even Ron hadn't said a single bad thing about him since the news got out.

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Author's Note: A big thank you to all those who have reviewed. A big apology for delaying the update. Again, looking for a job is taking precedence. But, I may have actually found one, so yea about that :) Thanks for reading the story! I hope that it's still enjoyable. Please review and let me know!