Disclaimer: I don't own the Potterverse and never will. But I can dream, can't I?
A/N: I was reading through this old story and oh, my… it's really terrible. So I thought I'd give it a makeover -g-.
TO SACRIFICE FOR LIFE
Lucius Malfoy hovered over the victim. Severus Snape leaned against the stone wall, veiling his discomfort at the situation. The red-haired man fought the ropes that bound him to the chair. He shouted threats that echoed off the stone walls, until Lucius finally put a silencing spell on him.
"Well, well, Mr. Weasley," Lucius sneered. Severus shifted his weight. There had to be a way to save the man. He didn't like him, not even a little bit, but he couldn't just leave him to die by Lucius's hands, could he? There had to be another way. Weasley thrashed against the heavy robes. His eyes were taped shut by the lashes, and Severus could see the shape of his eyeballs moving beneath the thin skin.
"This would be much more painless if you would just cooperate," Lucius hissed. Arthur's mouth moved wordlessly. Lucius backhanded the man. His combed-over hair shifted from the force of the blow to reveal part of the man's balding head. Lucius chuckled. Bright blood trailed from where he'd broken the redhead's lip.
Lucius looked around for a moment, looking slightly confused. "Severus, I think I must've left my bag in the front room. Why don't you go get it for me?" Lucius sneered. Severus felt a slight surge of nervousness at having his name said in front of the hostage. He could practically see Weasley's tiny brain working out why the name 'Severus' sounded familiar.
"Go get it yourself, Lucius. I'm not walking all the way down that hall to search around for what you misplaced." He snapped.
"Fine, be that way," Lucius hissed, looking away from the tied-up man to glare at Severus. Severus simply smirked at him. "Prat," Lucius said. "Guard this idiot while I go look for it,"
Severus waited until he could no longer hear Lucius's footsteps in the hall, and locked the heavy door to the room he was in. He lifted the silencing spell on the man in front of him.
"Hold still," he said, walking over.
"Not bloody likely!" Arthur hollered.
"For Merlin's sake, be quiet you fool! Lucius will hear you!" Severus snarled, he ripped the tape from Arthur's face.
"Ouch!" Arthur hissed, before blinking at Severus. "YOU are a Deatheater? You teach my children! I can't believe Dumbledore would hire such a monster," Arthur hissed vehemently.
"Shut up or you'll die here, you insufferable idiot. Can't put two and two together, can you?" Severus snapped. He pulled out a knife and attempted to cut the ropes open. He hissed as the wards on the ropes deflected the knife. It sank deeply into his wrist, cutting a vertical line down the soft flesh of his arm.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he snarled as he pulled out his wand. He had forgotten the charms were there, a stupid mistake caused by the fact that his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he could barely concentrate on what he was doing. He finally got the redheaded man free.
"What are you, setting me free?" Arthur asked, confused and angry. "What kind of a Deatheater are you?"
"Don't be a fool, Weasley, I'm a spy for Albus," he hissed. "Now if you don't mind, we ought to get out of here before I pass out from blood loss," Arthur looked at the blood that was flowing down the slender man's hand and dripping in large puddles onto the tile floor.
"You've injured yourself," Arthur said.
"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," Severus snarled. He opened a scuffed door on the opposite side of the room, revealing a courtyard. "You can't apparate here, we'll have to get off the property first," he said. He clutched his arm to his body, leading the way through the yard. He kept close to the tall hedges, where no one would see them.
He led the way through a forest and out into a small, sparse neighborhood. His breath was short, labored. He stumbled slightly, and Arthur leapt forward to catch him. The taller, broader man was too heavy for him, though, and he ended up kneeling next to Severus, who stooped over, his uninjured arm supporting him. Blood was smeared on his hands and face, the fabric of his robes too dark to see it. He was paler than usual, which was quite a feat, and he looked up for a moment.
Arthur looked into his face, noticing that Severus's eyes were clouded and his expression dazed. There was a moment of silence, before Severus's arm gave way and he passed out. Arthur stood up, feeling useless, before running to the nearest house. He pounded on the door, and an elderly witch answered.
"Can I help you?" she asked softly.
"Please, ma'am," he said desperately. "A man just saved me from the deatheaters, and in the process he got hurt really badly,"
"Oh, my!" she murmured.
"Please, please can't you help him?" he asked.
"Show me," she said sternly.
Arthur led the way to the younger man in the red-stained grass. The woman looked for a moment, her eyes hooded, before she looked back up to Arthur.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said, putting her knobby hand on his arm. "We're too late..."