Sorry this took so long. Seems I need my gull bladder out and the symptoms from that have been keeping me from doing much of anything. For that reason, this chapter is a little shorter than normal as well. Sorry!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! And no, this will not be a crossover of any type with that 80's movie, "The Labyrinth," as much as I enjoyed that movie. Sorry.

Enjoy!



Dumbledore swept down the corridors of Hogwarts, the edges of his robes fluttering around him in the slight breeze his speed created. His face was set in silent contemplation and his eyes shone with the knowledge of something secret.

Unfortunately, not even Dumbledore knew the secret that had dimmed the light in his eyes. All he knew was that something was about to happen that he did not want to happen.

He sighed, a sound of absolute frustration, as he came to the doorway of the sick room. There he stood and watched as Remus, Sirius, Ron and Hermione all sat around Harry's bed and talked.

They all seemed to be in high spirits. Each of the four held a smile to some degree and would laugh occasionally at something another said before adding something to the conversation. At times, they would turn to Harry as if to include him in the conversation. Harry, of course, remained silent, which brought a hint of sorrow to all their eyes.

Dumbledore shook his head again, wishing Snape was there as well. He knew that Snape had grown quite close to the boy on the bed, even if he would never admit it, even to himself, and every time he went to spy on Voldemort he risked losing all he had.

A shiver ran through Dumbledore at this thought and he suddenly knew that the anxious feeling had to do with Snape. Snape was in trouble, but Dumbledore had no way of knowing where he was or if trying to send him aid would simply worsen his danger. However, Dumbledore had to find something out about Snape. Snape's life might depend on it.

He was in the middle of turning when a cry from the room stopped him.

"Harry!"



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Snape hurried through the labyrinth corridors, marveling at the reconstruction job. It had been rebuilt to look almost exactly as it had before, the only difference being the walls' stone chinks and the way the plant life fell over the walls.

He stopped to listen for a moment, hoping he had a little more time before the dark lord sent his followers after Snape. If he just had a little more time, Snape knew he could escape this labyrinth as the other deatheaters had only the advantage of the dark creatures within the labyrinth being magically blind to them.

When Snape had decided that the other deatheaters had not yet entered, he continued on. He hadn't gone very far, however, when the labyrinth began its first change of the night.

Walls seemed to melt and grow. Ivy seemed to wend its way through stone to create new corridors and close off old ones. Before Snape's eyes the scenery began to shift and change until it looked nothing as it had before.

Snape cursed and leaned against the ivy covered stone wall, hoping that the change had further aided him in his escape. He had no doubt that the dark lord's follower's would now enter the labyrinth.

After a minute, Snape tried to straighten and continue on, but found he couldn't. A couple tendrils of ivy had wrapped themselves around his waist and an arm. With another curse, Snape reached for his wand with his free hand.

"What," Snape asked disbelieving, as his hand met with empty robe.

He thought frantically for where his wand was, since his knew he had had it with him, but no answer was forthcoming. Then it hit him as another tendril of ivy began to wrap itself around his free wrist.

"Malfoy," he spat, attempting to pull his arm from the grip of the plant. It had to have been Malfoy who took his wand when he'd been captured. If it hadn't been him, then this plant really was the ivy it looked like.

The plant began to step up its efforts to entangle Snape now as he struggled frantically against it. Snape tried holding still in an attempt to fool it into letting him go, but it was so easily fooled. He tried systematically unraveling the plant's limbs from himself, but the more he moved away, the tighter its grip and the harder it pulled him to the wall.

Snape was caught and he knew it. He thought of Dumbledore as he struggled vainly, wishing he had let the man know how much his trust and kindness had meant to him.

He thought of Harry and wished that he had been a little less hard on the boy. Or at least not have let him think for the past four years that he hated him. He wished he had been able to show Harry how much he had actually loved him.

But maybe it was better this way. Harry deserved better than a broken man with the blood of innocents staining his pale hands. The boy deserved a man who could be his father and not just love him as a father.

He hoped Sirius would have the brains to take care of Harry properly. The man had always been rather self-centered and Snape didn't think he deserved to be the only Harry had left.

The plant's hold became tighter and it began to get harder for Snape to breathe. Stars appeared in front of his eyes as they slid closed. He gave up fighting as the welcoming darkness began to overcome him, promising to relieve his burning lungs.

A bright flash of light suddenly brightened his sight to a red as he glimpsed the blood vessels in his eyelids and the plant stiffened and let go of him at it. He fell to the ground gasping for the much needed air he could now gather. He only lay there a moment, though, before beginning to struggle away from the plant before it could renew its attack on him.

"Are you ok," asked a shockingly familiar voice as a pair warm spots moved through his arms and into his chest.

Snape jerked away and turned to gape openly at the last person he had ever expected to see.



Next Chapter: He Stumbles Over Their Shadows