Walk the Shadows

Disclaimer: Not mine. I imagine I'll get over it.

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Tuesday, Aug. 27

No further entries for this date.

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Previously:

When he tumbled from the fireplace into the little office, and pried his stinging eyes open, the first thing he saw was Lucius Malfoy, with his wand pointed at Harry's head. Right beside him, wand steady and wearing a grim smile, was Albus Dumbledore, doing the very same thing.

Startled and gaping at the two men, Harry had several thoughts all at once. The first was, Oh, crap. Then, How do I keep getting into these situations? And then, finally, What the hell is up with Dumbledore?

Before any of these had time to be more than thoughts, however, Harry had his wand up and shouted, 'Expelliarmus!' To his surprise, since he thought the Headmaster was far more powerful than that, Dumbledore's wand went flying out of his hand, and he even stumbled back a few steps. In the next second, his elation turned to horror when a bolt of red light slammed into his side from a Stupefy. All he saw as darkness overtook him was Malfoy's leering face.

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Everything was so cold. And dark. And his left arm was one huge bundle of nerves, trapped in ice so cold it burned. For the longest time, he could not form coherent thought beyond, 'Hurts,' and he knew, somehow, that even that thought was not making it to his conscious mind. Finally, though, he was able to put the pain into another place, as he had done for many, many years of his service to the Dark Lord, a place far enough away that he could think again. When he did, his first thought was, Harry . . . where is Harry?

He swam toward consciousness, knowing -- without understanding why -- that he had to wake up. That Harry needed him, that he was in trouble.

When has Harry not been in trouble? a little voice inside him asked.

Good point.

And yet . . . he had come to realize over the last month of keeping company with the boy, that much of the trouble Harry engaged in was not of his own making. Not really. Their talks had done much to disabuse him of any notions on that account. No, trouble seemed to find him with preternatural ease. As it had now.

He had to protect the boy, his ward. He had to protect Harry, as he had sworn to do. With this thought foremost in his mind, he forced his consciousness closer and closer to the surface. It was like swimming through mud, through quicksand, though all kinds of other materials that were clingy and viscous and hard to move through.

Sound penetrated his mind first. One sound. A voice. Lupin's voice. Severus scowled, and not just because of the constant throb of the Mark in his left arm.

'I hate to do it, but really, Severus, it's for your safety . . . if you were awake, you could tell me where you keep the potion. But it's too close to the--'

'What are you babbling about?' he rasped, his voice like sandpaper.

'Oh! You're awake.'

'Obviously.' He struggled to open his eyes, but they were glued shut. He brought his right arm up -- since his left seemed good for nothing just now -- to rub at his eyes, clearing out the detritus and forcing them to open. Everything was blurred and it all undulated oddly, giving the impression of looking through water. He squinted. Ah, better.

'I mean, it's good to see you awake. Can you tell me where you keep your Wolfsbane Potion?'

'Where's Harry?'

'What?'

'Which part of the interrogative did you not understand?'

'I understood, but really, Severus, it's far more important that you tell me where you keep the potion. I've been battling the change for going on an hour now, and was just about to transform a cage out of your settee in the sitting room--'

Oh, for Merlin's sake! 'Why don't you just leave!'

Lupin sounded a bit panicked, actually. 'I would, but there seem to be Wards placed on your door, and on your Floo, to prevent me from going.'

Something akin to terror rose in Severus' chest like a wave. His voice came out as a whisper, because he couldn't make it louder. 'You're trapped in here.'

'Yes.'

'With me.'

'I've said--'

'And you're about to change into a slavering beast.'

'Yes. Unless you--'

'The potion is in my laboratory,' and when Lupin rose to go, he added, 'But it's Warded, you fool.' As if he would leave that space unguarded, especially with a trouble prone teenager around. He swung his legs over the