Harry wasn't very surprised with his surroundings once his magic finished tugging him towards his new destination. More accurately Harry would have to say that his current place of residence was very familiar and not at all new anymore.

Glancing at the once very smug Sorting Plant, which Harry had just randomly named a very appropriate name, Harry listlessly noted the plant's new disposition. With it's leaves now drooping very close to the ground and the color decorating the plant a shade duller, the Sorting Plant seemed almost as devastated as Harry himself.

The death and destruction Harry had just witnessed weighed heavily on his mind. The familiar sight of blood and bodies brought unwanted memories to the forefront of Harry's thoughts. Those children had all been murdered, killed in cold blood with no mercy, and Harry instead of coming to their rescue had instead taken his time stumbling through the forest. Once more he had failed, ruining any chance of saving those who deserved it more than anyone else.

Harry closed his mouth and bit his tongue to stop any curses from escaping it. It was all his fault that those children had died, if he had been half the hero that the everyone had told him he was he would have been able to save them.

'What about the girl, Sylwanin? And her little sister, Neytiri? Didn't you save them?'

The voice was almost non-existent in his mind, but Harry would recognize the soft and analytical tone anywhere. Only Hermione would question him like that when she thought he was being unusually dense. Arguing with a fictional voice in his mind was both dumb and foolish, not to mention insane considering the voice belonged to his long dead best-friend.

Harry knew better than to mess with forces that one couldn't see, Arthur Weasley taught him that in his second year of Hogwarts.

Pausing momentarily in his thoughts Harry glanced once more at the Sorting Plant. It seemed that the plant was somehow reading his thoughts, because right as he began to assume he had lost his mind the Sorting Plant seemed to scrunch up it's leaves and glare at him.

Very confused and hurt Harry lifted his sore body from the sprawl it had fallen into when he magically appeared in the clearing. Taking small shaky steps towards the Sorting Plant he began to yell at it as if it were a sentient being.

"What would you know you stupid flower! You haven't lived my life, or faced the death and horror that I have! You have no idea how much it hurts!"

He continued to scream at the plant for a good ten minutes before his voice finally gave out from overuse. Howling silent screams of pain and sobbing his eyes out Harry collapsed in front of the plant and curled up in it's roots, begging unconsciously for any kind of comfort.

Seemingly uncaring for the long lived man's anguish the Sorting plant remained unmoved by his small shaking form.

Feeling rejected by the seemingly sentient plant Harry lowered his blistered fingers to the ground. Attempting to raise his body from the ground Harry gasped in surprise when he was suddenly surrounded by thin see through vines attached to the Sorting Plant.

Lowering his body to the ground once more Harry began to calm down as he gazed in wonder at the small vines surrounding his form. They were tiny and clear as glass with small hairs covering them, they began to gently tickle him as they traveled across his face and shoulders.

Finally feeling the care and comfort he had been craving Harry laid his head back against the Sorting Plant to take a long rest.

As Harry fell into a deep sleep occasionally interrupted by nightmares of small bodies, he ignored the small rumbling in his stomach and the itching on his skin from the goo. Fast asleep Harry left his troubles behind him for the night, too devastated by the days events to even gaze at the glory of the forest in the night hours.

.

.

It was with great reluctance that Harry opened his eyes to the morning light. With small streams of light beaming through the foliage even the laziest of creatures would be hard pressed to remain asleep. Lifting his head from the Sorting Plant, Harry winced in pain as his neck cramped up from the uncomfortable position it had lain in the night before.

Laying his hands on the ground to push himself up into a standing position Harry gasped as he felt a sharp pain race through his fingers. Quickly lifting his hands from their downward position Harry gazed at his hands in grim understanding. Covered in cuts, blisters, and second degree burns it was no wonder Harry wasn't crying in agony.

The cuts were from the sharp leaves of the foliage he had pushed aside the day before in his attempt to rescue the children, the burns and blisters were from his pink purse. Glancing down at it Harry remembered the warning Hermione had given him when she gave him the purse, all the while ignoring his complaints about purses being for women.

"Listen Harry! Whatever you do with this handbag-"

"Don't you mean purse Hermione? That's a purse! I'm not a girl Hermione!"

"OH! Shut up won't you, you great git! It's not important what you call it! Now whatever you do with this handbag-"

Hermione paused to glare at Harry before he could interrupt again.

"-Never try to force it open understand? This bag is meant to protect precious items that you don't want anyone else to get their hands on. If it senses its being forced open the handbag will fight back. Do you understand Harry? Harry! What are you doing I just told you not to force-!"

Hermione had sent several blue jays to peck at him for not listening to her explanation, completely ignoring Harry's exclamations stating that he had just been testing the "handbag".

Smiling softly with remembrance Harry slowly got up onto his feet without the aid of his hands to support him. Giggling at the slightly ticklish feeling he got from the still clinging tendrils of vine Harry turned towards the Sorting Plant.

Seeing the plant had a sort of saggy tint to its leaves Harry assumed that the plant was actually still asleep. Obviously the Sorting Plant was lazier than the other creatures surrounding it and probably more clingy during it's sleep as well.

Feeling a slightly kindred bond with the plant Harry gave the Sorting Plant a soft kiss on one of its leaves in farewell and turned to enter the forest once more in search of food and a river.

.

.

It was with great pride that Harry could say he had successfully navigated his way through the dense forest around him. Not only had he found a running stream big enough to bathe in, but he had also found some thick vines bearing strangely colored fruit on the trees decorating the edges of the stream as well!

Taking his irritated skin into account Harry decided that washing his skin and clothes would be the most logical thing to do first. Not to mention he had a feeling that if he put it off any longer his skin would develop a very nice rash in thanks,

Being very careful of his wounded fingers Harry carefully stripped out of his clothes and stepped toward the edge of the stream. While pondering the safest way to step into the water, mainly doing so without tripping backwards and busting his skull open, Harry failed to notice a rather mischievous root lying on the path he was taking.

Taking a step forward to test the waters temperature Harry squealed, denying he did so even as it was happening, with shock as he took a rather graceless dive into the "luckily" deep stream.

Popping his head above the water Harry started a rather common mantra among stream bathers.

"COLD! Cold, cold, cold, coooold!"

With his teeth now chattering at a speed equal to that of a woodpeckers Harry could safely say that he now hated the surrounding plant life. It was rather obvious to him that all of the plants in the forest were out to make his life as miserable as possible.

Deciding to put his formulating plans to punish his surroundings aside for the moment Harry started to concentrate on his bath. The stream was actually becoming rather pleasant the more Harry grew accustomed to the temperature, not to mention the cold water was like a healing balm to his aching hands and fingers.

Glancing down to look at the appendages in question Harry was distracted immediately by the face looking at him from under the water.

'Is that me?'

The thought came unconsciously to the front of his mind. The face staring back at him was thin and pale, with left over tear trails and black tar remains it made Harry look like a victim of a Dementor. Even his eyes had the soulless quality of one who had been at the end of one of their loveless Kisses.

Reaching a shaky hand out to his reflection Harry stopped just short of touching it as he recalled another face that had once looked at him in the same fashion.

It had been an older man wronged by society, imprisoned for crimes he hadn't committed for more than a decade. That same man had loved Harry as family the entire time. Unaware of Harry's actions and decisions as he grew in a cold environment the man had only hoped for his happiness and the chance to be reunited with Harry, and to be given the opportunity to clear his name with his godson.

"Sirius."

A tear fell from Harry's right eye as he thought about his lost godfather. Even centuries after the fact Sirius' short interval in Harry's life still caused him to grieve over his murder. Killed by his blood cousin Bellatrix right in front of Harry, Sirius had been Harry's only hope of living with a real father, to have the man he looked up to as a father murdered in front of him Harry had been shattered emotionally.

He was still shattered. Time didn't heal all wounds just some of them, the others it numbed until something came along and peeled off the scab just so one could feel the pain again. The pain is just as fresh as the first time he felt it.

Scrubbing his forearms across his eyes Harry ignored the pain in his chest and the swelling of his eyes as he began to wash his body free of the filth that had accumulated upon it in the last day and a half.

Once his body was free of all dirt, tar, and other assorted nasty things Harry focused on his hands. While it had been marginally easy to ignore the pain of his cut and burned hands while he had been cleaning himself, it was a different story when he focused his attention on them. As Harry began to disinfect his wounds in the stream thus reopening some of his scabbed cuts and popping blisters he couldn't help the whimpers that left his mouth, more came out than he felt comfortable with.

Finally as clean and disinfected as he could get them Harry gently stepped out of the stream heading toward his pink purse. He had set it aside on some short grass so that it wouldn't accidentally fall in the river, which wouldn't have been a surprise considering his luck.

When it opened without protest this time Harry couldn't help but sigh in relief, he had enough burns on his hands to last him another four centuries thank you!

Pulling out everything in it and setting them gently on the grass surrounding him Harry first grabbed his miniature bag of clothes and cast a Finite Incantantem on it so he could get dressed.

Standing naked in the middle of a strange forest wasn't high on Harry's to-do-list. Not to mention he had done so once on a dare, Ron hadn't mentioned the forest they were in happened to be infested with centaurs. Once he had finished running for his life from insulted mystical horsemen Harry had proceeded to jinx his best guy friend into an outfit worthy of the Queen of England. The fact that Ron hadn't been able to take it off for three weeks even for the bathroom was beside the point.

While reminiscing the good old days Harry had been picking out his clothes. Stopping momentarily Harry smacked his hand against his forehead in frustration, regretting it the second a few of cuts opened for a third time.

"Shit! I forgot to grab some underwear!"