"Hide them, then. Protect them all." he begged the second most powerful warlock this world ever seen in the accounted history of magic.
There would be no reason for if the no. one was slightly less ruthless. But in the reality of magic ambition is everything; you never go far if you lack disdain. He desperately hoped the no. two will see there's something to gain for him, if only by weakening his better-off-rival at least temporarly.
"There's not much time. Dark Lord is very serious about rivals, you know that, Dumbledore." he added, glancing at towering white-bearded figure under steep hat. Violent wind was playing with white sage's hair and greasy black Deatheaters' hair, with loosely let robes of both, but the Dumbledore's hat was magically fixed.
"You're insightfull man, Severus." noted the Hogward headmaster. "Don't worry. We've got the ways and means." he assured and slowly circled around the black-clad Deatheater who was still on his knees. Coarse grass was wet with ordinary British spray-rain.
Dumbledore lit his wand and Snape shrugged instinctively. That was disgrace, of course; to let himself fear any magic like some clueless muggle. But he couldn't help it. Too many times he has seen stricktly unenvyable fate of the other side's underlings delivered by Dark Lord at his leisure. Here there was no witnesses. Being at mercy of the famous no. two he could count on but two things: the warlock fancy or the messenger-boy role that might be assigned to him.
"Is there something you'd like me to tell Lily from you?" asked Dumbledore with quite a courtasy. His light-blue eyes gained deeper depth with flickering wand-borne light. That hooked nose used to be a subject of jokes between schoolchildren of Hogwards, as Severus sourly recalled. He forced the untimely memory back behind the oclumency wall. It'd be absurdly silly cause of death!
"I- no, just don't tell her it was me who overheard." he answered after a relatively short stiff while.
Deatheater looked away and swallowed, and hoped the nickname of Dark Lord followers isn't prophetical. He also counted on that Lily won't hate him more. Even if he deserved, why cause her feel bad or hard feelings. And there was silence, strangely deep and sudden and complete. Severus blinked and in that blink of an eye a familiar sharp pull in abdomen made it clear what was happening. Either teleportation or intesties-into-iron-ingot charm. Not sure which one means worse.
He swayed and had to catch balance with help of old fireplace framing. In the process he caused some family photoes and a glass ball with smiling snowman to fall down. Small cloud of artificial snow dust rose from crushed toy ball. Deatheater cursed non-magically under his nose and took off his wand with free hand.
"Don't." someone warned and disarmed him with Expelliarmus. Eleven inches walnut wand with dragon heart core made a perfectly geometrical bow to be catched by the only hands he would be wiling to give himself into.