A/N: I know, would you believe it, I'm not dead! As always, I have promised I will finish this series and I will. I could go into details about how insane my last few years have been but to give you the briefest idea – I'm currently undergoing chemotherapy (very successfully, might I add) and this is by the far the easiest part of my past few years.

Thank you all so much for sticking with me and this story. On with the chapter!

Chapter Six

Diagon Alley Again

Communicating with Magical Creatures had not revealed the secret Severus had sought despite his re-reading by the time August 31st arrived. Harry's mood had become increasingly withdrawn, spiked only by a visit from Granger. Severus had deliberately begun to spend more time away from Birch Hall and its primary occupant in an effort to take one more burden away from him. Sometimes he woke up at night, niggled and nipped at by the frustration of being unable to help the young man. He would pace his rooms, flick in utter annoyance through the myriad of books lining his walls, unable to believe none of them would relinquish the answers he needed.

He would never admit he had wanted to be able to present Harry with something, even something small, to prove that he, Severus, was still of use. Slipping into his robe, Severus once again toyed with the idea of not going to pick up Harry on his way to Diagon Alley. His own useless presence in Harry's life, as well as the ever-present dangers of the real world, were things he could protect the young man from. But he knew that Harry did not trust easily and if he would never believe Severus again if he broke their agreement.

Frowning deeply, Severus clutched a handful of floo powder and in a moment found himself in Birch Hall's library.

Harry jerked awake. His legs were sprawled out awkwardly from where he had slid down in the chair and dozed off. Severus looked for the tell-tale sign of his having fallen asleep while reading and, finding no book in sight, realised that Harry had been waiting for him. Probably anticipating him not showing up, Severus thought with a sigh.

"Are you prepared to go, then?" he asked, as Harry jerked awake at the sound of the fireplace being activated. His paranoia remained, on his feet with his wand in hand before he could even register that it was Severus watching him impassively.

"Oh...yes," he recovered a little groggily, tucking his wand away and blinking so sleepily Severus had the strange urge to bundle him up and take him to bed. Put him in bed.

"Let's go. This time at least attempt to act like a familiar," he said crisply instead, turning away from Harry to subdue his concerned thoughts. Caring more about the man would not help in putting distance between them. Sensing Harry at his shoulder, rather than looking behind him to check, Severus tossed the floo powder into the fireplace and stepped in. As with their first trip to Diagon Alley, he covered Harry's arrival and transformation on the pretence of shaking the soot from his robes, flinging them out widely around him.

Lion-formed, Harry paced beside him through the Leaky Cauldron which was pleasantly quiet for the day before school returned. Opening the wall with a practiced tap of his wand, Severus stepped through into the glaring sunlight. Scowling and squinting against the unusually harsh glare, he strode through knots of witches and wizards frantically collecting final supplies, hoping he could trust Harry to remain at his heel. He wanted to get his shopping done and get Harry back to the safety of Birch Hall as soon as possible.

"Would you care for an ice-cream once I have collected the books I need?" he asked under his breath. The lion padded along solidly by his side without a sound. Severus refused to admit he had been holding onto that as his trump card. Harry's clear pleasure with the sweets last time had been something he had noted as his last way of being certain he could cheer the man up.

Regretful, he pushed open the door to Florish and Blotts, stepping to the side long enough to allow Harry through. Sweeping in after him, Severus strode immediately to the aisle he required, quickly plucking a handful of books on magical creatures and communication, tucking them under his arm so Harry could not hope to read the titles.

"That creature is not allowed here," the manager, appearing as deeply exhausted as always, had hurried over to snap at Severus. "The store has a clear policy on creatures with jaws which can crush a book in one bite...oh Prof-Professor Snape." Already pale from a month of dealing with schoolchildren pawing through his books and putting them back completely out of order, it was difficult to believe the manager was able to lose even more colour. Standing there, deathly white and tight-lipped, he tried to say something but was immediately cut off by Severus.

"He is my familiar and he will not be leaving this shop without me," he said flatly, holding himself up to his tallest height. "I have been a customer with Flourish and Blotts for over twenty years and frequently purchase upward of one hundred and fifty books per year. If you wish for my custom to continue, I advise you take these books to the counter and remain there until I am ready to make my purchase." He thrust the books he had tucked under his arm into the trembling manager's arms and watched the haggard man stumble away, muttering apologies all the while.

As he stepped forward to enter the next aisle, Severus felt a distinct furry head bump approvingly against his leg. Smothering a light smile and feeling distinctively chuffed with himself, he collected the seventh-year potions text from the next set of shelves. Harry did not bat an eyelid, simply trailing Severus to the Transfiguration aisle. The seventh-year Transfiguration text was added to the collection and though they wound their way past Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry began to pace with mild discomfort. Once they had picked up the Charms text he growled loudly.

"It does not hurt to be prepared," Severus said casually. "Many of my Slytherins lose their textbooks and it is the head of house's responsibility to ensure students undertaking their NEWTs are in the best possible circumstances to do well in their exams." Harry made a series of irritated noises which Severus assumed would have translated to something rude about the library had he spoken lion. He had wished on many occasions while Harry had been at school that the boy would have been unable to talk back and he found himself deriving guilty pleasure from it now as he plucked down the rest of Harry's required NEWT books and stalked over to the counter to pay for them.

The manager stood, waiting at attention, for Severus' arrival, the creature books already placed before him. Severus thrust the rest of the pile at him, received a hefty discount, and shrunk them down to slip into his pockets.

"Come along," he instructed Harry sharply, for the sake of the manager, holding the door open before him. "I have a handful of rather volatile ingredients to collect and then we may...urgh." Severus yelled as he dove sideways, knocking Harry to his side while sweeping his cloak outwards over the lion. Three green spells smashed into the rocky outside of Flourish and Blotts. "Move!" Severus roared, half-standing and half-shielding Harry with his body.

Half a dozen spells danced around Harry's paws as he desperately attempted to gain grip on the ground long enough to kick off and run as fast as possible. Finally gripping, he launched himself forward, dodging around the legs of panicked shoppers rushing to safety, tripping several and howling in pain as he felt his ribs growing bruised. Somehow he managed to find himself under the stall of an outside vendor, accidentally shifting it in his hurry. Several shrunken heads rolled away from him and were soon lost under the feet of the crowds, punting forward as they thinned out and disappeared.

As soon as he was safely ensconced beneath the stall, Harry's eyes sought desperately for Severus. The man danced backwards a dozen feet away, throwing spell after spell out while urgently avoiding the bright green spells and inserting shields between himself and those spells he might stop. Frantic, Harry followed the spells to find four men in black hoods, complete with masks with snake-like eye slits, spread out across the alley. Severus grunted, falling back a step as a curse caught his arm.

The stall fell over as Harry struggled out of it with a vicious snarl, barely thinking as he let his animal instincts overtake him. Powerful rear legs launched him forward, easily reaching the first Death Eater, while his front paws slammed into the woman's shoulders, throwing her violently backwards. Harry's momentum gave him little choice but to follow and they tumbled onto the ground in a mess of paws and limbs. He lashed out with mouth and teeth, catching hair and robe but failing to find her throat.

A hand reached out and gripped his throat, nails digging hard into the fur and into the skin. Ignoring it with a snarl, Harry twisted his head and snapped again and again, desperate to do anything he could to make this threat to Severus stop moving.

His ribs cracked before he even realised he had been hit. The next moment he was thrown sideways and slammed painfully into the overturned stall. Yowling, he kicked out, desperately flipping back onto his paws. Before he had a chance to attack again, the Death Eater he had pinned sent a stunning curse at him. Managing to dodge it, barely, he spared a glance toward Severus. It was his undoing, the second and third curses crashed into his head and left paw, his limbs snapped out of his control as he rolled twice, head exploding in pain. Nothing he did could make his limbs move again and panic scrambled in his throat at his vulnerability.

"Harry." The voice was grim and furious but the next moment a familiar black cloak whirled over him as Severus took up a protective stance over his prone body. Harry wanted to yowl and growl and snap and insist the idiotic man take care of himself, but his protestations, however futile, were cut short as two other figures took up position on either side of Severus.

One wore unassuming black robes and Harry could not twist his neck to see further identifying marks, but the hem of the second robe was a bright magenta and could only belong to one man. Dumbledore had somehow known and come to the rescue. In spite of his inherent fear and vague distrust of the man, Harry could not help the feeling of relief which washed over him. Dumbledore and Snape could certainly take on four lousy Death Eaters, especially with the additional help of their third member.

A pained cry confirmed at least one of the attackers had fallen. An ear-splitting crack told him a second had apparated away. Desperately trying to fight against his stupification, Harry was surprised as the spells rippled and disappeared. Scrambling back to his feet, ignoring the vicious ache of his ribs, he could see the two remaining bodies laying prone on the ground, one twisted up in a vine which appeared to have burst forth from the wall behind her and the other who appeared to be petrified.

"Quickly, Severus," Dumbledore's urgent voice reminded Harry of their new companions. He had barely enough time to look up and identify McGonagall as the second helpful figure before Severus turned, grabbed Harry firmly around his chest despite his yowl of protestation and surprise, and apparated them both away.

Vision black, Harry tried not to squirm as he felt himself being squeezed tightly from every angle, his aching ribs protesting fiercely as his ear drums threatened to burst. Then, it was over and he stumbled forward as Severus released him, managing to hold onto his animagus form for only a second before tumbling to the ground, dishevelled, but fully human.

His stomach rolled and, though he had never given into the desire before, Harry found himself emptying his meagre breakfast of eggs onto the dusty floor before him. His entire body trembled with anxiety and shock as he scrambled dizzily to his feet and reached for his wand, reminded that they had just been under attack and were now in an unknown location.

"You can put that away, Harry," Severus said, a touch wearily. "We're perfectly safe here." Harry's eyes flickered around the small room they had found themselves in. Though the floor was dusty the half a dozen chairs crammed into the room were clean, as was the tiny kitchenette in the corner. A door leading off to one side suggested there were bathroom facilities and several cots set up the corner told him the room they were in could be used for long stays as required. A large fireplace set into one wall was set blazing by Severus' wand in one smooth movement as he cleared away Harry's mess.

"Where is here?" he asked warily, flinching faintly as his ribs gave a pointedly sharp pain.

"One of the Order's safe houses, though it has been in disuse for some time," Severus explained, eyeing his charge carefully. He had not missed the subtle movements which suggested he was injured. "Were you hit by anything other than the stunning spells?" Waving a hand impatiently, Harry suddenly lurched forward a step, eye on Severus's arm.

"You were hit," he said sharply, recalling the terrifying moment which had spurred him to action. "Show me." Part of Severus automatically wanted to chide the man for his impertinence, but another part was glad to see any forcefulness in him at all.

"Hardly the worst injury I have sustained," he sneered instead, but removed his robe and pulled away his torn sleeve to reveal a thick, deep, blood gash which dripped insistently onto the dusty floor below. Large red splatters washed away the dirt as Harry approached, only hesitating when he finally reached out a hand to touch the arm, gently twisting it this way and that. Looking at Severus' face, he wondered if it did not look a touch more pale than usual. One of his hands twitched towards the wound before his jaw twitched violently.

"Can't you heal it?" he demanded sharply, surprising Severus who had been observing the man keenly, hoping he might have confirmation of Harry's ongoing ability to carry out the magic blessed to him by the acromantula.

"Had I my poultices or potions, certainly. Unfortunately I rather lack the expertise in healing dark curses on oneself," he explained quietly. "As I am certain you know from your studies, healing oneself takes a great deal more strength and concentration than healing another. Do you know why?"

"Because...because you are already losing strength because of your injury?" Harry suggested rather feebly. When Severus raised an eyebrow he pressed on, "Because your strength and magic are already trying to heal you so when you are drawing the magic out of yourself to heal from the outside you are losing the strength and magic within which are keeping you functioning and well, which weakens you more severely?"

"Poorly worded, but essentially correct," Severus agreed, pleased to see Harry's trembling had ceased and a faint tinge of colour had returned to his cheeks while returning to his role of student. "It is impossible to have magic healing from the inside and channelled through our wands at the same time. Especially for dark curses like this, it is often crucial that our own magic hold off the greater damage until someone can heal it or risk far more extensive wounds." A short burst of blood suddenly gushed from the wound and dribbled to the floor, making Harry lurch forward desperately. One hand gripped his wand so tight his knuckles were white. "I believe you know some healing magic," the potions master promptly gently, trying not to let his pain translate to irritation. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to assist me?"

"I..." Harry gripped his wand harder, left hand skittering through the air as though it had a mind of its own. His eyes flicked to Severus' and the man was surprised to see a sort of terror within before they danced away to stare at his shaking hand. Lifting his left hand, then his right, hesitantly Harry gnawed on his lip in an altogether familiar and infuriating way which always made Severus want to...but now was hardly the time for such thoughts. Severus drew away the remains of the sticky cloth helpfully, stretching out his arm fully in encouragement.

Two quiet pops ruined the moment. Harry leapt backwards as though he had been shot, falling into a familiar fighting stance with his wand pointing, albeit trembling, firmly at the new arrivals. Dumbledore's magenta robes swept away the dust surrounding his feet while McGonagall's pinched face looked tired than Harry had ever seen it before.

"Terribly sorry to have frightened you, H..." Dumbledore cut himself off before testing the waters of Harry's ever-changing distain for his name. "Apologies for our tardiness, I'm afraid it took rather longer than expected to clean up the mess. Melvius Merryweather of the Ministry's Public Disturbance branch took rather an exception to our presence and attempted to insist we return with him to the Ministry to make a formal statement." Harry was barely listening to the old man, uncomfortably aware that Minerva was staring at him like a mother who had found her long-lost son. Clearing his throat he managed to say softly,

"Severus...Professor Snape is injured." Severus's eyes turned to him, a confusing disappointment within.

"What seems to be troubling you, my boy?" Dumbledore stepped forward immediately, pretending not to notice Harry's cautious and warning eyes on him as he approached Severus. "Ah, not to worry. You may have another scar but that is the unfortunate ramification of such curses, is it not?"

"Indeed," Severus rolled the word sourly from his tongue as Dumbledore waved his wand in blissful ignorance of what his Potions Master had been attempting to do prior to his arrival, easily sealing and cleaning the wound so only a jagged, bright red line remained.

"Mr...Harry..." McGonagall hesitated, seeming to realise her own dangerous territory as Severus' eyes immediately snapped to the man in question. Harry shifted uncomfortably on one foot but did not react. "Are you...you appeared to be injured also."

"I'm fine," he said automatically, a defensive hand reaching up to touch his ribs and give him away.

"Harry," Severus said sharply. Beseeching eyes turned on the older man who fought down his comment about idiot Gryffindors and instead ground out with as much patience as he could, "Minerva, could you possibly prepare some tea? I believe a warm drink would do us all some good. Albus, there may be some biscuits to go with them."

"Of course, my dear boy," Dumbledore replied, his voice a touch more cheerful than it perhaps had to be. McGonagall appeared to want to protest, eyes flickering between the obviously injured Harry and Severus, before she finally gave a gentle incline of her head and turned towards the kitchenette.

"Harry," Severus said as soon as the pair had taken themselves off to a reasonable distance, "show me your ribs." Gnawing on his lip again in the damnable way he insisted on, Harry's eyes flicked to Dumbledore and McGonagall who were pointedly clattering away in a very muggle fashion in the kitchen. "Have I let any harm befall you so far?" A touch of impatience imbued the words with enough Snapeness that Harry slowly tugged off his robes, while Severus considered that it had been a foolish thing to say given Harry's current condition and his own role in allowing it to happen. Drawing up his t-shirt with a wince, Harry showed the blooming bruises which indicated at least several broken ribs.

Grimacing as he realised he had likely done the man no favours in grabbing him around his chest to apparate, Severus raised his want, hesitating only for a moment as Harry appeared to steel himself.

"May I?" he ground out, unaccustomed to having to request to carry out magic. Harry barely inclined his head, though Severus doubted the thin sheen of sweat across his brow was due to his injuries. Waving his wand he ran a quick diagnostic spell to ensure there was nothing more sinister than the rib injuries and, confirming his suspicion, murmured several quiet spells to set them in place. Despite the pain he must have felt, Harry said nothing throughout the ordeal, eyes flickering between McGonagall and Dumbledore and only rarely back to Severus, much to the man's gratification.

"That should set them well enough. I will provide you with a pain potion and some bruise balm once we return to Birch Hall," he said crisply, loud enough that the other Professors might know it would be safe to return to their presence. Sure enough, only a moment later, the clattering of tea cups, steaming hot, signalled their return.

Harry took his cup from McGonagall, unable to meet her eyes as he mumbled,

"Thanks." With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore drew four of the cushy seats closer and took a seat in one with a hum of contentment, placing a plateful of biscuits, some varieties of which Harry had never seen before, on the coffee table between them.

"That was quite a bit of excitement for a simple day of shopping," he announced cheerfully as Harry sniffed at his tea cautious, inbuilt paranoia of the past year not having been helped by the day. The flash of hurt he saw in McGonagall's eyes shocked him, not so much that it was there but because he felt it spark a twisting guilt in his chest which made him lift the tea to his lips and take a pointed sip. It scalded his throat on the way down but the tiny smile it elicited from his otherwise wane former professor soothed the pain.

"Do we know who they were?" Severus asked sharply.

"Thorfinn Rowle, Elchi Brownstrop, Ashen Trimp and we are uncertain of the fourth member," Dumbledore said, voice still far too cheerful for Harry's liking.

"Were they..." Seemingly surprised to hear himself speak, Harry bit his lip to quiet himself. Severus, and surprisingly, McGonagall, sent him encouraging looks. Clearing his throat, he managed to finish his sentence, "Did they know...Severus was going to be there?" Mercifully, they ignored his obvious change of question.

"We believe they may have been laying in wait for several days, assuming Severus would return before the new school year," McGonagall explained quietly. It was only from the way she spoke that Harry was suddenly struck by the thought that she and Dumbledore had not been in Diagon Alley by accident that day. His eyes snapped to Severus who looked back calmly, his gaze unapologetic but confirming Harry's suspicion.

"Speaking of the new school year," Dumbledore said, happily, "Do you believe you will be joining us?" Harry stared at the man disbelievingly, wondering if he had seriously not just been in the same place as they had during the attack.

"Albus," Severus saved him from replying with his sharp interjection.

"Is there anything further you require from Diagon Alley before the beginning of term tomorrow?" McGonagall asked quietly. "I can collect anything you may need."

"Thank you, Minerva. I do have a small list of items I was unable to procure," Severus said, retrieving a piece of parchment from within the folds of his now tattered cloak. Apparently reminded of his dishevelled state, he waved an impatient wand towards his sleeve and the material stitched itself back together with the nervous urgency of a first year being yelled at to move out of his way. McGonagall glanced at the list and gave a nod.

"I will return to Diagon Alley now. They will be waiting for you in your rooms tonight." Rising, she spared a glance at Harry who was staring into his half-empty mug of tea. "It was...nice to see you again, Harry." Unable to draw his gaze away from the brown liquid, Harry swallowed faintly.

"You too, Professor," he murmured, missing the surprised and touched look on Minerva's face as she apparated away.

"I believe it is time we return to Birch Hall," Severus said crisply, much to Harry's relief. Placing his half-filled mug onto the coffee table he rose to his feet.

"I will you see you for classes tomorrow," Dumbledore said to their retreating backs, though whether it was intended for Harry or Severus, the young man did not know. He was suddenly weary all the way to his bones. Severus had to force the floo powder into his hands before Harry realised he was waiting for the young man to say the required words. Offering his arm tiredly, he allowed the older man to grasp on before tossing the powder to the blazing fire and stepping in.

The familiar rush of fireplaces did nothing to settle the sloshing tea in his already upset stomach and Harry found himself stumbling as he arrived at Birch Hall, only Severus' grip on his arm preventing him from tilting face-first into the ground. Managing to find his way to one of his study chairs, Harry sunk into it, resting his face in his hands in exhaustion. Flashes of spells danced before his eyes, the vengeance clearly sought by the furious Death Eaters chilled him, recollection of his own filthy deeds, or those of Voldemort if he was inclined towards believing his own lack of control, returned fourfold.

"Harry," Severus crouched nearby and rested a gentle hand on the man's arm. "Are you all right?" He could not provoke a response. "All is well, now. You ought to go to bed." Despite ten more minutes of quiet questions and reassurances, Severus could not get the man to respond. Frowning unhappily, he rose to his feet. "I am certainly tired, as I am sure you are. I am retiring to bed." After a brief moment he added, "I must return to Hogwarts permanently tomorrow as the school term begins." When there was still no response from the man he sighed. "Good night, Harry." Dropping a pain potion and some bruise balm onto the table beside him, he left the room.

The palms of Harry's hands were wet. As soon as Severus was gone he wiped his eyes fiercely, wishing he never again had to deal with these memories and emotions. It had been easier in Diagon Alley. Animal instinct had driven him. He had not second guessed himself as he had launched himself at Brownstrop or as he had tried to tear her throat out. He had known who he was and what he was there for. Protect Severus was all he knew and all he had to know.

Miserably, Harry wiped away the remaining tears. It was far easier coping with everything while the feeling of semi-animalism swept over him. He knew he would not sleep tonight with the fears and dark shadows launching about in his mind unless he did something about it. Somehow finding the strength to get to his feet, Harry dragged on all of his reserve energy and transformed.

A thin, miserable lion padded towards the rug before the fire and curled up on it in exhaustion, soon falling into an unhappy sleep.

He awoke early the next day, shivering faintly at the chill in the room by the dying fire. His bones were aching as he climbed to his paws. Any doubts that he had that he could not face returning to Hogwarts had been wiped away by the previous day's events. He supposed he should return to his human form but he could not force himself to do so. The lion's mind was more simplistic, his thoughts seemed to move slower, his head ached less.

He needed fresh air. Almost silent on his huge paws, Harry padded out of the study towards the front door. Looking at it resentfully, he realised he had no way to open it in his current form. Jumping up on his hind legs he swiped at it fruitlessly for a moment before a sound alerted him to the presence of a normally silent Demiguise. Without questioning him, Augurey tugged open the door. Sparing one thankful look at his friend, Harry dashed outside and had soon disappeared into the forest.

The thick, dense layers of dirt and leaves beneath his paws felt wonderful, as did the breeze, cold though it was, as it raced through his mane. Scratching his shoulder against a tree, the bark rubbed dirt into his fur and Harry found he did not mind as dozens of scents raced into his nostrils, almost overwhelming him but, most importantly, chasing away any thoughts of the previous day and year. Kicking out with powerful paws, he dove deeper into the forest and away from that accursed Hall.

Severus awoke at sunup, a sign that he truly had been tired. He was normally up at least an hour prior on the day the menace of students returned to the school, preparing himself both physically and mentally for their return. Frustrated with his own slothfulness, he rose and dressed swiftly, refusing Dobby's offer of breakfast as he knew it would only slow him down.

Still worried about Harry's behaviour the night before, he sought the man out in his rooms to check on him, on the pretence of saying goodbye. Not only was Harry absent from his quarters, there was no sign that he had slept in them at all. Sighing at the man's determination not to get a good night's sleep, Severus trekked the familiar path to the library where he was certain he would find the tousled head of black hair uncomfortably tilted to one side as its owner slept fitfully in a chair.

Frowning, he realised that not only was Harry not in the study, his pain potion and bruise balm were untouched. Though extremely doubtful, he glanced into the empty Great Hall before calling to Dobby.

"Yes, Master Snape?" Dobby bowed as he appeared with a snap.

"Where is Harry?"

"Dobby does not know. Dobby is not seeing him since last night, Master Snape," Dobby said apologetically.

"What about the Demiguise?"

"Dobby can fetch Augurey if Master Snape wishes."

"Yes," Severus said, impatience and worry making him curt. Dobby disappeared with another pop and bow and moments later the Demiguise sidled into the Entrance Hall. "Augurey, have you see Harry this morning? Do you know where he is?" Augurey looked at him for a long moment and for a second Severus thought he might refuse to answer – or, that is, at least refuse to answer as little as he could. But a moment later the large creature waved a hand towards the front door which remained ajar. Severus frowned. "He went outside?" Augurey nodded. "Where?" The Demiguise made no further motions which, the man supposed, meant he did not know. "Was he alone?" A nod. "Was he all right?" When no response was forthcoming – and Severus supposed it was rather a loaded question – he waved a hand briefly in thanks and strode to the front door himself.

The forest was filled with the sounds of animals and stretched dauntingly before him. When his initial search of the nearby trees revealed nothing, he attempted a locating spell. As expected, Harry's wards would not permit such a dangerous spell within the boundary of Birch Hall. Staring at the seemingly endless forest before him, Severus glanced at the rising sun and cursed softly. He had no choice, he had to return to Hogwarts to prepare for the onslaught of students. With one more unhappy glance into the forest, he turned and returned to Birch Hall.

Harry had lost track of time in the forest, blissfully unaware of the constraints which normally made it mentally difficult for him to get through a full day without counting the minutes at least once. He felt freer than he had in months as he nudged open the front door to Birch Hall and entered. His happiness dropped the moment he stood inside. He could sense the nearby presence of Augurey and Dobby and even Hedwig, but he could tell one person was missing.

Padding silently up the stairs he reached Severus' room, hesitating only momentarily, he nudged the door open. The room was empty. The meagre possessions Severus had brought with him were gone, the bed made neatly and all signs of his presence erased. It was like a dagger to Harry's heart. The man had not even said goodbye.

Peering around the room as though the potions' master might be hiding behind the cupboard ready to jump out at him, he felt a familiar, pervasive loneliness swamping him. Miserably, he padded forward and leapt onto the perfectly made bed. Turning twice, he curled up upon the covers and stared at the bedhead until exhaustion overtook him once more and he fell asleep.