A/N: Read on!

Part 7 - The Trapped Wait

"Harry," Snape said, gently shaking the boy who was now covered in sand. He was surprised that he managed to keep it out of his eyes during his sleep. "Wake up."

"Uhh," Harry murmured. "Not feeling good . . ." Snape had an odd feeling – perhaps worry, he realized – and he hoped that Harry wasn't getting worse. Feeling his forehead, he realized that the sun wasn't helping. Although it only just fully rose, Harry had chosen a place that was fully exposed to the sun.

"We need to go back to that village, Harry," he continued softly. "I didn't finish looking around, and there might be boats. Perhaps some more fresh water; I don't know how long the water we have will last with your fever . . ." Harry didn't respond, and Snape sighed, changing tactics. "Well, I'm not going to leave you here. Maybe," he sneered, "I should carry you?"

"No!" the boy said, sitting up quickly. "No, I can walk!" Now that Harry was awake, he handed him a canteen a bit of sausage. "I don't think I can eat," he complained, but took a few sips of the water.

"You must," Snape answered flatly, and stared until he took a few nibbles. "Just eat it slowly." He was about to scold him when he laid down again, but as he continued eating, Snape chose not to.

"Professor?" Harry asked between bites.

"Yes?"

"That village . . . they are all muggles, aren't they? It didn't feel like a village should be in Africa . . ." Harry continued to eat slowly as he waited for Snape to answer. For a while, it didn't appear that he would; the man was just sitting and staring off into the horizon. Finally, quietly, he answered.

"You understand that the Dark Lord is not a kind person . . ."

"No, really?" snapped Harry, sitting up a bit only to have his head reel, having to lay back down.

"He likes everything to go his way, and he is not above . . . using people for his benefit."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused. He knew that Voldemort didn't care about people, but he was confused as to where his professor was going with this. He wished he would just feel better . . . it felt as if everything was confusing him, and the glare that Snape briefly gave him didn't make him feel any better.

"During the Dark Lord's first reign – probably a little bit before, actually – he set up villages of muggles near certain hideouts and headquarter – and I assure you, he has more than one. These muggles were . . . are magically bound to the Dark Lord, but the village would appear to be normal to anyone who passes by. These muggles were never allowed to leave, and they produced supplied, like food, for those who stayed at the hideouts. The company of people, even muggles if they are 'put into place' as he often said, were much preferable to house elves."

"Wait . . ." Harry said slowly, disgusted. "Are you saying they were slaves?"

"The term 'slave' is rather harsh," Snape answered, sounding just as revolted by the situation as him. "I don't even believed they knew. It was . . ." the man trailed off. "Perhaps 'slave' is the only fitting term," he concluded reluctantly. "Legally, that would be the term," he said too quiet for Harry to hear.

"Oh. Can . . . can they leave now? That lady? Would she be able to leave?"

Because Harry's eyes were closed, he missed Snape's expression, but the man's sudden cursing was all the answer he needed. He was pulled suddenly to his feet by his arm, and Snape steadied him before walking him along through the woods, hands on his shoulders to keep the dizzy teen from falling.

"Do you think she's okay?" Harry asked.

"That is the least of our worries now, Potter," the older wizard snapped. "If they found her, they merely needed to view her memories to know we disapparated. They will be searching the entire line between the village and England."

"Oh. But–."

"Quiet, Potter. When we get back to the . . . huts, you will be going back to sleep while I search for supplies we will need."

"But if they are searching for us, is it safe to leave the island? It's more open on the water," he pointed out.

"We will have to wait a few days and hope that they do not find us," Snape replied simply and emotionlessly. It wasn't much later when they stumbled into the abandoned village, much sooner than Harry anticipated. They must have been walking much slower during the night. Snape pushed him gently toward one of the huts in the shade, one of the more, out-of-the-way ones.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Snape was following, taking small sips from one of the canteens. Entering, Harry laid down against the wall immediately, not noticing Snape drop the bag he was carrying and look at him with a sad expression.

Outside, Severus was at a loss of what to do, so he walked into the next hut over. He was surprised to find a ratty blanket, made of some unknown material, half buried under the loosely packed dirt. Unlike the hut Harry was currently in, it had no man-made floor and it was much smaller.

He pulled up the blanket and looked at it with disdain. It felt as if it was made with straw, and who knew what sort of diseases it was carrying. Realizing he wasn't going to find anything useful here, he moved to the next one.

After searching carefully through each hut and finding nothing more useful than a hammer, Severus went back to Harry to check on him and take another small drink, careful not to take too much. Unless they found freshwater somewhere on the island, that was all they had.

Satisfied that the boy was asleep, left and walked back into the woods. He had to make sure they were actually on an island and it would be much quicker without the sick child to drag along. Also, he was hoping there was a boat somewhere, even if it was in bad condition. If they were to be here for awhile, they would have time to repair it well enough. Walking through the trees for the third time, Severus paid closer attention to his surroundings, making note of anything that could possibly come in useful later.

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Harry woke suddenly with a bad feeling and in a cold sweat, but he couldn't place why exactly he felt so nervous. He had an odd dream about needing to hide this odd, mushy orange stuff from Snape which made absolutely no sense to him, but even with that strange feeling, he knew there was no orange stuff to hide. So what, then? he thought.

Sitting up, he was glad to find that his head was no longer spinning, so he looked around the room curiously before standing up and walking to the entrance. Carefully, he opened the crude door a crack to find that the sun was setting. So I slept all day, then, he commented unnecessarily to himself. But where's Snape? Thinking that the man was in some other hut resting or thinking of a way off what was probably an island, he began to peek inside other nearby huts. He laughed quietly at the thought of finding Snape making a raft like in some muggle movie where the characters were stranded.

Not seeing Snape outside and not finding him in any of the huts, the nervousness that he woke up with came back threefold. He's just . . . out looking for stuff, he tried to convince himself, walking back to the hut he woke up in.

"Professor?" he asked, then mentally hit himself. What if the Death Eaters found Snape and were looking for him, now? Or what if they found Snape and the man told them that he was dead and they left? And he was left on the island alone. Or . . .

No, he wasn't going to think about that. He knew Snape wouldn't leave him intentionally. Entering the hut again and spotting the bag proved that the potions master didn't leave, so . . . the man was either hurt, captured, or still looking for stuff. He hoped it was the last one. Harry thought about going out to look for him, but stopped at the prospect of Snape coming back here and not finding him, only to yell and refuse to let him live with him when he returned.

"I'll wait . . . if he's not back soon, I'll look for him," he said aloud, nodding and cutting himself another small slice of sausage. He hoped it wasn't going to go bad, soon. It was the only food they had.

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Making it back to the huts after the sun had fallen far beneath the trees, and probably below the horizon, Snape entered the hut he left Harry in, keeping the door open with a rock to allow what little light was left outside in. He found the boy sitting with his back to the wall, his knees brought up to his chin, and his arms around his legs, and he glanced up with such a look of relief on his face that Snape felt bad about not coming back sooner. He should have realized, especially with the recent realization that the Death Eaters probably had some idea of where to look for them, that Harry would have jumped to conclusions if he woke up alone.

Having an odd feeling of not wanting to embarrass Harry with his realizations, Snape decided to not bring it up.

"Do you know how to start a fire without matches?" he asked instead, and the brat gave him a look that clearly said that Snape should know.

"You mean with matches?" he asked, and Snape resisted the urge to yell at him.

"No," he replied flatly. "I mean without magic, without matches, without any starters at all."

"Oh," Harry said with a small laugh. "Er . . . rub two sticks together?" he suggested. "Why?"

"I found water, a pond, but we will not drink the water until it has been boiled," Snape answered.

"And how do you plan on boiling one water once you start the fire? Levitate it?"

"Stop it with your cheek," Snape snapped, tired of the boy's attitude. "I found a few metal bowls."

"Sorry," Harry answered, suddenly remembering that this was the man he was going to be living with. It was just so hard being good around him all the time, though. As long as he doesn't go back to being his mean self, he thought.

"I'm assuming you're feeling better?"

"Yes. I'm not dizzy anymore. Well, not as dizzy, but I'm hungry . . ."

"Yes," Snape answered slowly. He had eaten several large blackberries he had found throughout the day, but . . . "You didn't eat all the sausage, did you?"

"No! I only had one slice that I ate when I woke up," he answered as Snape took out the sausage and cut himself and Harry another piece before looking at the knife closely.

"If necessary," he said quietly, "we could hunt, although I hope we leave before that's necessary."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. After they had eaten and drank a bit, Snape laid down.

"Go to sleep," he told Harry, and he scowled in the now-dark hut. "And close the door. I don't want anything wandering in here." Standing up and making his way almost blindly to the door to close it, Harry complained.

"I just woke up!"

"Well, then don't go to sleep! Just sit in the dark and do nothing, but don't bother me!" he snapped.

"Fine!" Harry snapped back, sitting down on the ground, hard. He heard Snape move.

"Can you not go a day without arguing?"

Harry didn't answer; instead, he continued to sulk. After sitting for what was probably half an hour daydreaming, he did finally lay down.

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The next two days were slightly better. Harry was able to start a fire, probably due to accidental magic because he became angry that he couldn't start a fire, they lived on blackberries and sausage and the odd tasting pond water. On the second day, Harry was bored so he attempted to catch a fish – which he did, but it really was too small too eat.

"If you wish to eat fish," Snape said flatly, "you'll have to go to the ocean. There wouldn't be anything edible in that small pond. Of course, I don't suggest you stay in the open for too long."

"No, I really don't like fish," Harry answered. "I just wanted to see if I could catch it. How long are we going to stay here? I mean, you did find that boat, and you said there's no hole or anything . . ."

"Perhaps we should leave soon. Just because this island hasn't been searched, doesn't mean it won't soon . . ." Snape thought out loud, more to himself than anything. They were both feeling better, without the aid of the unknown medicine, and the boat – well, more of a crudely make canoe (like everything else on the island) – had been afloat all day in the pond and had not sunk yet. He made a decision. "Tomorrow morning, we'll gather as many berries and boil as much water as we can in the bowls. With no land in sight–."

"And with those horrible paddles we made," Harry teased, causing a look from his (hopefully) soon-to-be legal guardian. Hopefully, Harry thought.

"– we need to make sure we have enough to sustain ourselves."

"Yeah," Harry answered, excited by the prospect of finally getting off the island. "You know, for as unlucky as we have been," he continued, "we've been rather lucky, don't you think?"

"How do you mean?" Snape asked, almost in a curious manner.

"Well, for one, that area under that house . . . houses don't come like that often, I reckon. And the fact that there was food, water, and a boat on this island?"

"Just be glad you're still alive, Potter," Snape growled.