Misfortune, thy name is Severus

Chapter 4

"What now, then?" Malfoy threw down his rucksack in disgust, surveying the twisted mass of dark vegetation surrounding the little group. A haunting breeze rustled through the tall trees, and somewhere deep in the forest, a soft groaning could be heard, like that of a gigantic creature in pain. Every now and again, the forest trembled slightly, as though in the grip of a minor earthquake, and animal cries could be heard from the depths. Shivering, Malfoy sat down heavily on his bag of supplies.

"What a foul place this is! What's Dumbledore thinking?"

"No one made you come, Malfoy."

"Yes, well, I thought you might need my help, Potter," drawled the blonde boy. "Just in case any nasty Dementors turn up, or anything…"

"The Dementor line is so old. What's up, can't you think of anything new to taunt me with? Or are you too busy wetting your knickers over being in the forest?" Malfoy snorted.

"Professor!" He shouted. "Potter's being rude to me. Tell him, sir, this is supposed to be a co-operative task."

"Stop insulting Malfoy, Potter." Harry glared at Snape's back, which was slowly disappearing into the forest's darkness.

"And come on." The potions master growled. "We should reach the heart of the forest by dawn tomorrow."

"But I'm tired, sir."

"Malfoy," McGonagall cut in, irritably, "we have been walking for approximately twenty minutes."

"My rucksack is heavy."

"You shouldn't have brought so much stuff then, should you?" muttered Harry.

"What about you, Potter? How will you sleep without your teddy Weasel?"

"That's enough, Malfoy! As you said, this is supposed to be a team effort. Now get a move on, both of you, before I take points from both houses."

"But…" Malfoy began, but a glare from McGonagall silenced him. With a sigh of resignation he picked up the rucksack and slowly followed the teachers, dragging his feet sulkily. Harry picked up his own bag and quickly outpaced him. Malfoy, who was not at all happy about being in the forest, despite his bravado, hurried to keep up.

The 'team' trudged largely in silence for the best part of three hours; at one o' clock precisely they stopped for a brief lunch; at two o'clock they continued into the forest; by five o'clock it was nearly pitch black, and the group lit the Muggle torches they had bought with them. Snape, obviously most unused to such devices, kept waving his absent-mindedly and muttering 'Lumos!' until McGonagall took it away from him and switched it on. By seven o'clock, Draco was too tired to insult Harry and McGonagall and Snape weren't speaking to each other over a disagreement over whether to head north or west from the Giant Oak Tree; by ten o'clock, the group was completely, utterly, hopelessly lost.

"Twelve hours." McGonagall groaned, as she perched delicately on a fallen log, resting her tired and aching feet. "Twelve hours, Snape! What is Albus going to say when he finds out we couldn't manage more than half a day in this wretched forest?"

"Well, if we had gone west at the Tree instead of north like you insisted…"

"North was correct! It was you who wanted to find a bridge across the stream rather than wading through it…"

"There were pirhanas in there!"

"They were not pirhanas! The most dangerous thing in there was an old trout!"

"Takes one to know one, eh?"

"Well, really!" Harry and Draco exchanged weary glances. This particular argument between the teachers had been ongoing for the past hour and a half; every time either of the students attempted to break in, or suggest a compromise, they were met with angry looks and told to be quiet in the presence of their elders.