The standard disclaimer goes here.
People who cared
1.
"Is that the place?"
"How the hell would I know? You've made the map, after all."
"I've done it basing on your Pensieve memories, you useless piece of dragon dung!"
"Easy, Severus. No need to get nervous. It's not the last time the Dark Lord was angry at you. You will eventually get used to it, like to the breakfast you eat every day."
"I DO NOT eat breakfast. Waste of time, that is. And, back to my original question: Is that the bloody place?"
Lucius took a good look at the complete darkness surrounding them. In the faint wandlight oddly shaped trees were looming over them forebodingly. He sniffed disdainfully. "Looks right to me. Like the place evil overlords are choosing to hide their most precious items. You go first, Snape."
"Wonderful." Severus sneered, trying to stifle the feeling of dread that was trying to overwhelm him. He didn't like this mission the last bit. Only yesterday he overheard prophecy about the Dark Lord's demise (or maybe only a half of it, he wasn't that sure) and passed it to Voldemort. To Severus' displeasure, the Dark Lord wasn't even remotely happy about it. He literally threw him out of his chamber and ever since he was treating him oddly indifferently. Was he suspecting that Snape's cover was blown? Impossible. From three people that happened to be there, one was oblivated, the second was too confused to properly register things happening around her while Dumbledore himself… Guessing by Hogwart's Headmaster's previous tactics he wasn't interested in revealing this piece of highly useful information. The worst Severus expected from him was the blackmail.
Was the Dark Lord thinking he is hiding something from him? Or considering saving Lord's future infant victims? A laughable idea. Voldemort trusted him as much as he was able to trust anyone and Severus felt very safe with his trust. He praised Severus with every new potion invented and, what was the most delightful thing, he was doing it publicly. Severus felt important for the very first time in his life. He felt useful. He would do nothing to hazard this trust.
With this resolve in mind he strode into the unknown forest, a rather imprecise map in his hand, a lighted wand in the other, Malfoy at his tail. He went in the direction, where the moonwillow was supposed to grow – from that point it would be no more than one hundred steps to the clearing where that blasted thing, whatever it was, was hidden. He smelled the fresh menthol-like aroma of the tree even before he saw it, glimmering between the branches.
He moved faster, his eyes glued to the immensely beautiful sight before him. Then, he tripped.
The next five seconds were blurry in Severus' mind. He sensed the ground under him disappear with a thundering crash. He desperately dug his fingers into the soft soil but his body pulled him down.
He fell on something soft, giving out a distressed cry.
He rose to a sitting position and shook his head to clear it. Miraculously, he was whole. He looked up. The silvery outline of the hole could be barely seen some five meters above his head.
"Lucius!" he roared. "Lucius!"
No sound.
"Lucius!" He was getting desperate. "LUCIUS! Get me out of here!"
Again, nothing. He jumped on his feet and started yelling for help. When there was no response, he fell on his knees in a desperate search of his wand. Without light, it was a lost case. He tried a wandless Lumos, but it didn't work. He moved around in circles, hoping the wand was buried under the loose soil. He was so engrossed in his search that he barely registered the odd clicking sound. When he realized that the owner of this sound is directly before him, it was too late to dodge.
"Oh, sh- " meowed Snape, as the enormous spider, as fast as the lightening, moved to pin him down to the ground. He was overthrown on his back and stared straight at the monstrous multiple eyes hovering over him. Severus whined and tried to move his hands, to kick the ugly head, to do anything…
He couldn't. For the moment, the most crucial moment in his life, his body was absolutely paralyzed with fear. Useless. Like some visitor in the Pensieve, he was only able to observe the acromantula move it's ugly, fur covered head, it's tentacles trembling slightly, like it was sniffing him.
Suddenly, it struck.
The ten inches long sting sank in Severus' belly. His ear-piercing shriek reverberated in the cave and his legs kicked out. But at this time the spider already moved to the other side of the cave, from where it stared at it's future meal with all the eight of his eyes, patiently waiting for the poison to start working.
Snape curled in a tight ball, holding his stomach and whimpering, all alone in his little world of dull pain. The blood was thundering in his ears, the muscles weakening. Oh, but he was dying…
He wasn't sure which part of his brain cursed his stupidity and ordered him to run.
By sheer force of will he managed to kneel and, on four limbs, move forward. It was a slow and painful way, but this stubborn part of his mind refused to surrender. It told him it would be chicken to simply lie down and let this monster feed on his unmoving body. So he went.
When he reached the wall of the cave, no more than six meters later, he was covered in sweat and panting. His traitorous limbs trembled under him and his bowels felt worse than a Cruciatus. But he clenched his teeth stubbornly, tears falling freely down his face. With his hands, he started to feel for any hidden exit or even a niche. It was a cave, there had to be one. Please, let it be, he thought desperately.
After next three meters along the wall, he suddenly fingered a missing piece of wall and sighed with relief. The break in the stone was so narrow that he had to crawl into it, but it was better than nothing.
Gradually, he squeezed his head and shoulders through the opening, then crawled a little bit, so every inch of his body was safely enclosed in the small corridor. Deadly tired, he rest his head on his hands.
He fainted.
&&
When he woke up some time later, his lips and tongue were parchment dry and his body burned with fever. He felt odd numbness in the place that was pierced with the acromantula's sting. It was only slightly better than the pain. A fresh scent of water flowing nearby made his tortured senses to call in alarm.
Drink.
He wasn't even aware that he possessed enough power in the weakened limbs to move his pinky. But, somehow, his survival instincts enabled him to do it and more. At a snail's pace, he started to crawl further down the corridor, painful meter after meter. In his post-traumatic haze he took no notice of his robe being torn and his skin being cut by the sharp pieces of stone. Water was the only thing he was able to think about. He was blindly following it's trail like a wounded animal. Oddly, this single-mindedness was making him stronger and more determined.
After what he felt like an eternity, his battered fingers found the water. A tiny streamlet was flowing from under the rocks, unbelievably cold and wonderful. He felt face-first into it, drinking greedily.
When his thirst was satisfied, he felt an overwhelming exhaustion claim his body and mind. He let it.
&&
He was stuck here, that was a fact. Nothing could get his protesting muscles to work again. What was even worse, the strange numbness spread onto the lower part of his body. He could feel his magic fighting the poison, but he knew it was a loosing battle. He would eventually die.
Where, the hell, was Lucius?
&&
"HELP! Please! Somebody help me! Please, oh Merlin, please… HELP!"
&&
Too long, it was too long. A high time to realize that no one was going to save him. It was all a farce. The Dark Lord couldn't care less about what happened to him. Or… Was it arranged?
You fool.
No one gave a heck about him, not even Voldemort. And he, young idiot, thought that outside there was actually somebody who considered him as more than a tool. Somebody who cared…
Yes, poor Snivellus. We are perfectly happy knowing, that your ugly body is right now turning into a smelly pulp. Yum, yum! Say hi to worm! And you know what, Snivelly? One day I will find your skeleton and use your skull as a sugar-bowl. A fitting end for an almighty Slytherin, don't you think?
"No!" whimpered Severus. "Please, no!"
"I should have buried you alive when you were an infant, you little toad!" hissed his father. "You are a disgrace to our family!"
He called for help. And again. And again.
Two hours later found him trembling from everlasting fever, black eyes widely open, calling still. Only this time, his voice was only a hoarse whisper.
&&
His very tissues were turning into a spider food. He was barely breathing.
My body! Oh no! My body! My body…
&&
"Is anybody here?"
To Be Continued…
A/N: To whom belonged this voice? And what would happen to poor Severus? Will he live? This and more in the next chapter! Let me know what you think!