AN: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 12: Learning into Practice

Harry saw the Death Eater Apparate into the doorway. He heard the dark wizard yell the Exploding Charm and watched the white jet of light hit Sirius' Shield Charm. It ricochet to their left. Even as he willed a bucket near him to try to hit the spell, he knew it wouldn't make it in time. Half-strangled by the Cloak and satchel tangled up, he couldn't direct the projectile properly with his hand. It almost hit Sirius in the back of the head.

He cleared his wand from its holster on his hip and angled the tip toward Sirius. The wall exploded. Fire, brick, and debris went everywhere as the powerful spell detonated. "Protego," Harry bellowed as his thoughts focused on one goal: protecting Sirius.

The silver bubble his thoughts and spell conjured manifested too late. While it protected his godfather from the worst of the blast, the force of the explosion and the initial debris hit his left side. Harry wasted no time and stepped forward, trying to ignore a biting pain in his hip. He whipped his wand upward and shouted, "Exsolvo." The expanding fire from the Exploding Charm condensed inward and shot toward the Death Eaters somewhere near the doorway.

Harry didn't have time to check his work, so he stumbled over to Sirius and squatted down, his wand pointed toward the door. There was smoke and dust, and his ears rang. He glanced down and saw Sirius was alive, but he was muttering something and jerking around. Blood matted his hair from a deep laceration along his forehead. Bits of dark-brown brick had peppered his face and neck. Just as Harry prepared to Apparate away, a green spell flew over his head.

The ringing in his ears drowned out any other noise. He transfigured a wall out of stone between him and the Death Eaters. Knowing they might explode the wall at them, he reinforced a Shield Charm between himself and the wall. His eyes flicked to the ruined wall of the barn and realized something. The place was going to collapse on them if he didn't move. A thick beam of timber had broken near where the spell detonated. He flicked his wand down and said, "Levioso."

Sirius floated off the ground, supported by Harry's magic. Harry limped toward the hole in the wall and pointed his wand behind him as soon as he was clear. "Impulsus Domus," he intoned and imagined the barn collapsing in on itself. The hastily altered Collapsing Charm wasn't strictly used to implode buildings, but he hoped enough power and the right intent might help nudge things along. By adding the Latin word Domus, he hoped to direct his thoughts to match his will and intention.

He felt far more tired than he should have as a resounding crack from somewhere within the barn pierced the ringing in his ears. Even as the building collapsed inward, as if a giant hand had squashed it, he saw more figures appearing in the darkness. For a brief moment, he thought all was lost until he realized not all the dark-cloaked new arrivals were Death Eaters.

Exchanges of spells broke out between the witches and wizards. French Aurors, Death Eaters, and possibly a third party dueled to the death. The masked Death Eaters used Killing Curses, but so did the Aurors. Still half hidden by his Cloak, Harry looked down to see Sirius barely moving, his eyes staring up at him. He pointed his wand at his godfather's neck, "Ferula," he whispered as a series of spells flew over him. He crouched lower as a plaster cast appeared wrapped around Sirius' neck. "Vulnera Sanentur," he intoned carefully, imagining the damage the brick must have done. He didn't have time to check his wand work.

The earth around him erupted in fire. He had to move quickly, and there wasn't enough time to gather himself and Apparate away with Sirius. "Finato Duri," he cast as he waved his wand in a circle over his head. The earth around himself and Sirius rose up and squashed the fire before becoming a large dome. "Movens Terraus," he shouted, whipping his wand downward. The dirt beneath his knees parted as he and his godfather descended into the earth.

Harry knew someone would come looking for them, so he covered the hole and continued to use the Excavation Charm to dig a tunnel wide enough to move in. Sirius hovered behind him as he collapsed the dirt behind them every twenty feet or so. It was slow going, but without any real effort, he found himself opening a passage into a dark room. He lit his wand and checked the space. It was someone's basement. His spell had magically compressed the brick of the wall in on itself. He made his decision and brought Sirius through.

The room wasn't large, and it looked like someone had used it more as a warehouse. Random boxes, some opened, littered the concrete floor. Stacks of wood, small crates, and forgotten furniture comprised most of the space. He spotted a carpenter's workbench and set of saw horses near the stairs. Gently, he brought Sirius down on the concrete and used the Diagnosis Spell over him. He was alive, barely.

Harry worked over his godfather for several minutes, trying every Healing Spell and charm he knew. He carefully gave him part of a vial of his custom Wiggenweld. There was some improvement, but he knew he was running out of time. Someone would come find them.

Sirius lay as if he were dead. Only the barest rise and fall of his chest indicated he still lived. Harry fretted over what to do. He could turn himself in to get Sirius help, but everything pointed to the fact that the French Aurors were after him and Sirius too. The Death Eaters had some way of using the French Ministry's Trace to find him. He knew he could get them to Britain if he could just use magic without fear.

As Harry shifted Sirius into a more comfortable position, his hand bumped Sirius' wand, which was still gripped in his hand. He carefully tried to take it away, but even in Sirius' condition, his hand wouldn't let it go. Harry raised his wand and was about to cast a spell but froze. His eyes flicked between his wand and Sirius' wand. Conversations, ideas, and speculations all bounced around in his head.

Sirius said he was declared an adult by the magical means of the Goblet of Fire. Bagman used the British Ministry to declare him legal, but the Trace still existed. His eyes went to his wand. He'd gotten it from Ollivander. A wand maker, almost every witch and wizard in Magical Britain received their wand from. Why would his wand be any different? It would explain how the French Aurors could find him. He, the wizard, was free of the Trace, but his wand was not.

Until then, he never considered his wand to be the traitor among them. How could he? His wand was as part of him as breathing. While he could use Wandless Magic, he preferred to use his wand. It made things easier, and his wand served as a focus. "I'm a fool," he hissed to himself. It wouldn't hurt to try his idea, and his godfather wasn't in any shape to use his.

Harry made his trunk reappear carefully. He switched to the compartment with his clothes and took a deep breath. What he was doing was a risk, but he needed to be able to move without being tracked, at least through the Trace. He gently placed his wand in the truck and closed it, sealing it off by switching to another compartment. Turning to Sirius, he realized his mistake and snorted. He should have disarmed his godfather first, but what's done was done.

Sirius' wand was shorter than Harry's, and the knotted walnut wood felt weird in his hand. However, the only thing that mattered was that his magic worked when he used it. It wasn't as effortless as using his holly and phoenix feather wand, but it wasn't impossible either. He'd never appreciated how true the wand choosing the wizard was.

Because he couldn't risk his trunk's enchantments, he decided to use the slightly rounded top and its shape to double as a base for a mobile stretcher for Sirius. He knew his godfather wouldn't be comfortable magically bound to cobbled-together wooden slats over the trunk. It'd been a while, but Harry was able to get everything secured to the truck so the wooden boards wouldn't slide off as Sirius shifted around.

When he was finished, he checked to see how his godfather was doing with another Diagnosis Spell. The Wiggenweld Potion was not doing as much as Harry would have liked. For the first time, he became aware of the sling bag that Sirius had given him. They would need to move quickly, but maybe something in the bag would help.

Inside the magically enchanted bag, Harry found food, a few empty bottles, small bags containing their Bezant, Galleons, and Muggle Money, Sirius' clothing, a bundle of letters, several books, and a small box with a strange logo on the top. After closer inspection, Harry realized it was a blue shield with Fleur-de-lis decoration. When he opened the box, he realized what Sirius had bought. The six bottles inside had English script written on gold ribbons. He'd purchased a Draught of Living Death; its counter was the Wiggenweld Potion, and Harry had just given some to Sirius.

Also in the case were four Polyjuice Potions, two that looked half used, and Wiggenweld. Included in the top of the case was instructions on how to use each of the potions, with a special emphasis on the Draught of Living Death.

Harry knew he'd stayed past what was safe. He eyed Sirius bound atop his trunk and hoped things would work out like he wanted. Pointing the borrowed wand at the opposite wall, he tunneled out the other side and had his trunk float behind him, his Cloak draped over Sirius' still form.

For what felt like an eternity, he moved underground, having to detour a few times for large pipes and septic tanks. He went slowly and made air pockets to the surface when he felt light-headed. Sirius stirred once during the short trip. Harry gave him the Draught of Living Death after first reading the instructions three times. It was simple and yet nerve-wracking. If he somehow messed up, Sirius could die from the powerful potion.

Sometime much later, Harry rose from the ground in the morning sun. He used the Cloak to shield himself and was glad he had. A couple of people wearing simple clothes were on their hands and knees several feet away, tending to rows of crops. He'd come up in the middle of a field. Trying to judge distance underground was hard, especially as he had to repair the damage he'd caused in the ground behind him. He wasn't even sure which direction he'd left from or where all the detours had taken him. His goal was to simply get away for as long as he could.

When his stomach howled for sustenance, and his eyes were too heavy to continue, Harry stopped for the day. He created a small chamber under the ground like Sirius had shown him how to. His initial instinct was to ward it from intruders, but that might tip someone off who might be able to trace his magic somehow. So far, the Trace hadn't brought the Aurors or Death Eaters to him, but he'd been on the move for hours.

Before he could sleep, he checked on Sirius. His godfather was in a magical coma, his chest rising every minute or so. The Diagnosis Spell told Harry that part of his skull had deformed and there could be severe brain damage. His only hope was his Wiggenweld Potions, his limited experience in Healing Magic, and a lot of luck.

-X-X-X-X-

Harry stared into his hands with his back to the earthen wall. He'd become adept at moving under the cover of darkness with the Invisibility Cloak draped over Sirius' form. The Disillusionment Charm was difficult to perform with his godfather's wand. More often than not, Harry simply stuck to the shadows and kept his hovering trunk behind him as he moved steadily northwest.

Unfortunately, the pursuit hadn't stopped after the skirmish that injured Sirius. The only good thing was that the Trace seemed to have stopped working. His theory about his wand was correct, or at least seemed to be correct. Harry wasn't confident enough to Apparate anywhere with Sirius' wand, so he couldn't move as quickly as he'd wanted.

Their diminishing supply of food and his inability to sleep for any length of time was getting to him. Another problem was that he had to get his godfather's wounds cleaned. The debris went all the way down his body, so that meant he needed to completely undress him. Sanitation was difficult, and he was glad Sirius was under an enchanted death-like sleep. Harry's own experience in using the bathroom wasn't all that great when underground. Air shoots only helped so much. He didn't want to consider how bad things might be if he had to take care of Sirius' bodily functions, too.

Several times in the following days, Harry woke up and saw the baying of hounds overhead. Their progress slowed considerably around towns and cities. He had to try to plan well ahead where he would stop for the night from the map in Sirius' bag.

"I hate how thin you look," Harry muttered as he worked the borrowed wand over his godfather's still form. He'd found padding, blankets, and a sleeping roll to help make Sirius' slumber more comfortable.

"I should have never pushed you," he continued as he felt his magic slowly work through Sirius' skull. He'd managed to more or less repair the damage, but he had no way of knowing if it would help. Until he could get back to Britain and see Madam Pomfrey, he'd keep his godfather in the coma.

"I had a dream yesterday… or maybe it was the day before. We were back in Lupin's classroom, discussing how to do Atmospheric Charms," he sighed as he sat back. His body felt spread thin as if it was trying to do too many things at once. Tasks that should have been easy, like walking, were becoming a chore he dreaded. He had aches and pains in places he didn't realize could hurt.

"Lupin was correcting my spellwork. I hope he's doing well," he continued to himself as he lapsed into silence. Sirius didn't answer him.

-X-X-X-X-

Harry ghosted through the dark streets under the Cloak. He'd left Sirius briefly so he could magically steal from a bakery. His reluctance toward most things had vanished with his hunger. He needed to keep himself and Sirius alive to get back to Britain. Little else mattered. A moment of weakness had taken him, and he'd left Muggle money on the counter. Two days later, he needed that money to purchase basic supplies.

The time he was away from Sirius ate at him as he passed by a dark shadow in a doorway of a shop. He froze, his wand flicking upward. Lamp-like dark red eyes peered toward him out of the gloom.

"Wizard," a whispered hiss said. "I smell you."

"Vampire," Harry said back with more confidence than he felt.

"You… are young. Leave this town," the creature of the night said.

Harry realized it was a feminine voice, not that it made him feel any better. He knew from Sirius that female vampires were arguably more human and more terrible for it. "Just passing through," he said as he stepped to the left.

Red eyes flicked in his direction, and he saw white teeth flash. "The boy they are hunting," she said. "I could," she started to say when Harry attacked.

His Stunning Spell took her in the chest. He'd gotten good at keeping himself hidden while barely exposing Sirius' wand. It limited what spells he could do, but surprise and secrecy were more important. The Vampire slammed against the door of the shop. He knew it wouldn't keep her down. Their kind had some protection against magic. More protection than he had.

The rest of the trip went off without incident, but he kept a wary eye out. Exhaustion ate at his thoughts as he made his way back to where Sirius was. Something called out to him, clearing his thoughts. He froze in the middle of the field and did a slow turn. There was nothing he could see, but that didn't mean anything. Crouching down, he muttered the spell to dig himself into the earth. He'd become adept at moving underground.

As soon as he came up several yards away, he spotted three dark figures standing over the area he'd disappeared from. A cold sweat ran down his back. Three Vampires had stalked him, and he almost led them back to Sirius.

When he finally got back, he checked on his godfather first. He, predictably, hadn't moved and was still the same. The two cauldrons in the corner of the small underground hideout bubbled away. He quickly went through his potion ingredients stock to brew Wideye and Wit-Sharpening Potions. He'd gotten into the habit of taking a sip or two of the Wit-Sharpening Potion before deciding where to move next and how best to remain undetected. It helped cut through the mental fog that seemed to hover over him like a cloud.

A new addition to the hideout appeared when Harry sealed the entrance, leaving only the air holes open for safety. A deep brown snake slithered past him and over toward the far corner. It seems he'd spooked it. "Sorry," he muttered to the snake.

"No apology required," a hissing voice answered.

Harry spun, his wand ready. No one was there. "I'm going crazy," he said aloud.

"Posssibly," the voice answered again.

It clicked. Harry looked to where the snake lay, coiled up. "Parselmouth," he groaned. "I greet you, snake," he said formally. Now that he knew what to listen for, he could hear the alien language he spoke instead of words.

"And I, you, two-leg. It is warm here."

Harry nodded and took a seat on the hard dirt. His back and legs hurt from all the walking he'd done. He might wait another day before moving. The image of the Vampires standing over his escape tunnel returned to him. No, they needed to move as quickly as possible. He might have to move during the middle of the day. "Would you like something to eat?" he asked his guest.

"Pleassse."

-X-X-X-X-

Horus the Snake stayed with them for several days. It didn't have a name, but seemed to like the one Harry gave him. The conversation they had helped Harry keep sane through the silence. Horus appeared to enjoy talking to someone who understood him. He explained how he loved to hunt, his search for a mate, and the goings-on about the simple world he lived in. Harry didn't mind. The snake's companionship meant more to him than he realized.

A side effect of only speaking to Horus was that he almost only spoke in Parseltongue. He hadn't realized he was until he started healing Sirius. Something kept nagging at the back of his tired, clouded mind. For some reason, the Diagnosis Spell he was slowly casting over Sirius was clearer than ever before, even when he'd used his holly wand.

It was both amazing and scary. He remembered the tales of powerful healers who spoke the language of snakes. The Greek God Asclepius carried a staff with a single serpent wrapped around it. It'd become a known symbol of medicine and healthcare. The power of healing and curing illness and disease. He stared at Sirius' wand before his eyes flicked to his trunk. He could take the chance. Use his wand along with Parseltongue to quickly heal Sirius damage.

His excitement faded. He'd been healing Sirius multiple times a day for what felt like weeks. Outside of spotting newspapers, he didn't have a way to keep track of the date when he ventured into the towns and cities. Sirius' body was as close to perfect as he could make it. He didn't dare try to heal his brain again. If he somehow messed up, his godfather could never be the same again. There was already a good chance that he'd somehow messed up healing him. That didn't mean Harry stopped healing Sirius whenever he thought he could. Any amount of help he could give would be better than none.

Parseltongue didn't seem to affect his other spells and charms. He did limited experimentation but didn't feel like the magic came out any easier. It made sense. Voldemort didn't use Parselmouth to duel him, and he very much wanted Harry dead.

Horus left while Harry was out procuring more supplies and wasn't back when he needed to move on that night. He wanted to wait for his traveling companion but decided against it. Time was never going to be on his side. After Harry filled back in the underground hideout, he looked around one last time before moving northwest again.

From their map, he'd gone about a hundred and fifty kilometers in around three weeks. It was painfully slow, and he knew he had over double that, not including what he'd need to do once he got to the English Channel before he could find relative safety. He just hoped his luck held.