As ever, standard disclaimers apply.
"Do you-- " Severus Snape had been caught in mid-sentence but he'd broken off with the explosion of light. He gasped as his body was slammed against something hard and rough. He was too dazed to do anything more than groan and concentrate on keeping hold of the dark wooded wand in his fist. But just before passing out he realized that he had just been force-apparated.
--
Kingsley Shacklebolt was too well trained, and even more, too calm a man, to start swearing this close to danger. It was a distracting reaction and easily led to an Auror's downfall. Rather, he ignored the emotion that flung the streams of epitaphs in favor of attempting to wrest clues from the chamber in which he found himself. It was a cavernous room that swallowed every bit of the light coming from the tip of his wand without revealing much of itself. Except the steel grey walls -- and floor apparently -- were an unnatural smooth material that radiated a gentle warmth. As he moved along the edge of the room he determined that it was huge and circular in form with occasional protrusions that reminded him of something seen in an old Dr Who episode! Well, fourth or fifth Doctor anyway. What were they up to now? Eighth Doctor wasn't it?
He halted abruptly, realizing that he was letting his mind wander. He frowned at his untoward and unusual behavior. He knew better! His eyes narrowed as suspicion blossomed and he was careful to be mindful of every focused thought. Still. The place was dangerous even if it did scream "ignore the man behind the curtain!" foolishness. Maybe a Pureblood would feel something different, but he would not call young Weasley in yet.
He had yet to determine how big the place actually was when the silence was rent by a scuff he recognized as a badly muffled footstep. The acoustics bounced the sound all over the place but his instincts had him spin away from the console-like protrusion he was just rounding toward the center of the cavern. He lifted his wand and quickly hissed a quiet protection spell.
"Stupefy!" a shrill voice cried. He saw a flash and knew the spell was badly aimed.
He doubted his assailant would still be in place and though he desperately wanted to yell back his own spell, he resisted and after whispering a quick, "Nox" to douse his wandlight, held his position, listening for another tell-tale scuff of sole on flooring.
It came none to soon, from about a yard away and to the right. "Expelliarmus!" his spell was forcefully directed towards that position even as he moved backwards and also towards the room's center. "Bill! Disapparate!" He yelled the order and changed position again just as another offensive spell was directed towards where he had been.
Voices assailed him from every direction then, "There are only the two of them!" Someone yelled seemingly but impossibly from behind him. "Get on with it, Bella," another voice called out, "Stop playing!" "Capture him, don't kill him!" That last he identified as Lucius Malfoy, no doubt more than curious about how they'd gotten in.
He heard a sound he hoped was Bill Weasley obeying orders and he was about to do the same when a heard a soft thump, someone swearing and then a brilliance flared and engulfed them all. Instinct took over then as the Auror let his muscles relax except to bring his arms up to cover his bowed head.
The landing was hard but it was the limp Death Eater under him who had taken the brunt of the impact. Kingsley didn't want to hang about waiting for his unwelcome companions to recover and so he forced his eyes open and his legs to unfold and hold him up. And he did his best to look around, ordering his eyes to regain their brightness blinded sight. As if he could force such a thing. But perhaps he could. For he did discern that he was the only one standing in the as yet impenetrable night-like darkness. He heard, then, another person just beginning to stir.
He peered into the darkness and reminded himself that he was an Auror and these were Death Eaters. He scowled in the perceived direction of the one moving form and raised his wand. "Stupefy!" He heard a low grunt and a thud as the Death Eater collapsed. Unfortunately, another stirred and as he changed his aim, a third jumped up casting the same curse at the Auror.
Shacklebolt barely managed to dodge the spell and it hit something behind him with a sharp crack. He dove for a copse of shadows casting "Protego!" to create a spell deflecting shield for himself. The Death Eaters did not give chase, however. He resisted merely running and considered trying to pick them off. But the thick darkness was as much their cover as his. Clearly, they were taking time to recover and regroup. That implied that someone with brains was leading them. Most likely Lucius Malfoy. Damn the man, he was no idiot.
As for himself, he decided his wisest move would be to apparate somewhere a little more familiar and a whole lot safer. Of course there was still the fact that Snape had disappeared in the same kind of nova-like explosion. Dumbledore would never forgive him if he didn't make some effort at finding the spy. Just then something grabbed his arm and yanked him off balance to one side causing him to stumble even deeper into the shadows.
"Don't speak," a soft raspy whisper that he recognized as belonging to Severus Snape ordered curtly. "Look up."
Somewhat bewildered at this last order, the Auror's instinctive curiosity compelled him to obey. The canopy of shadow was thick and dark (it occurred to him that they might have been portkeyed -- without the portkey?! -- to some distant forest) but it was not a complete ceiling and occasional shafts of moonlight pierced through.
"Bloody hell," he whispered faintly. There were two moons. One was nearly full and the other, a slight distance ahead of and below the first, was in a waxing gibbous phase. But then he shook his head and tore his gaze from the twin orbs riding high in the sky to look down at a face hidden by the forest night. "Can't stay here, Snape. Death Eaters." He gestured back towards where he'd abandoned those same individuals. They were quiet, but not so much that the experienced Auror misjudged their distance and position. He finally took the time to try to scan their environment. But even with the moonlight the best he could come up with was the vague feeling that they were indeed within some very dense forest or jungle.
"Can't apparate," Snape muttered.
"No, not without knowing how far we'd be traveling," Shacklebolt agreed. "So we'll have to walk." He rose slowly, ever so ready for an unannounced attack by the now silent Death Eaters. Snape, on the other hand, didn't move at all. "Snape?"
"Yes. Sorry." The husky whisper seemed more than a little distracted. "That's not right, is it? I thought perhaps it was my memory being ... uncooperative."
"There's only supposed to be one moon, Severus."
"I see." The plants rustled as Snape climbed to his feet, only at the last moment hissing sharply in pain and almost collapsing again.
Kingsley grabbed the slighter wizard, keeping him upright. "Snape!"
"I rather think you shall have to get away on your own. I do not believe I can walk after all." There was now an uncharacteristic thinness to the Potions Master's voice.
"You do know this place is thick with Death Eaters, right Snape?"
"Then you'd ought not hang about."
The Auror grunted. Then brought up his wand and aiming it at the Order's spy whispered, "Mobilicorpus." To which the spy gave a short hiss of pain in reply when his body floated off the ground.
"Shacklebolt! This isn't going to work!" The hiss resolved into tense words.
"Not leaving you here, mate." He paused for the reply that didn't come, then realized his companion had passed out. Snape was as limp as a corpse and that made it easier to maneuver his body through the dense flora as the man was now insensitive to any of the accidental encounters that were unavoidable.
It was slow going but as he didn't have any other destination aside from "far away from the Death Eaters as possible" Shacklebolt was patient with his lack of progress. He thought to keep track of time by observing the twin moons descent but the jungle canopy rarely opened enough for him to get a decent enough view of the sky. At least the night sounds had picked up and they were loud! A cacophony of clicks, twitters, and whistles at almost every pitch imaginable blanketed out any of the soft crunches his own steps might make. Of course that meant that the Death Eaters' sounds were equally masked. Added to that unfamiliar noise was a deep cloying scent totally alien to the city-boy Auror that permeated everywhere. He remained alert and Moody's favorite phrase repeated itself in his mind. Constant Vigilance!
Indeed it was constant vigilance that let him become aware of the change; a faint greyness at the top of the world. Daylight. And the sounds began to change, softening to sweet trills punctuated by raucous howls of the morning greetings. (Too bad the smell didn't change, was his wistful if brief reflection.) Time to find a hiding place and find out how badly Snape was injured.
Easier said than done with noting but -- he supposed they were trees -- about. He brushed absently at some miniscule insect buzzing too near his face.
--
Severus Snape woke to the less than harmonic serenade of someone snoring. As he slept alone this quite alarmed his somewhat befuddled brain into instant action. He rolled out of bed. Or anyway that had been his intention. What actually occurred was that he twitched and his eyes opened. Wide now that he saw that he was perched in the crook of a pair of splitting... branches? Not perched, then, bound. He'd been magically bound to the tree so that he wouldn't fall out and drop... He craned his head as far as he could to see the long drop to another layer of deep green foliage. Forget the ground. There was no seeing that.
"Ah, you're awake at last." Shacklebolt's greeting replaced the snoring.
"Obviously."
"Your ankle is broken, old man. I've splinted it, but anything more will want a mediwitch."
"Only broken?"
"Shattered actually. You must have nearly splinched."
"I was moving when the forced apparation took place."
"Quite. Erm... I'm afraid it's something more than apparation, Snape. We are not even remotely near Wiltshire any more. In fact, we aren't even on Earth."
Silence. It was absurd of course. But there had been two moons, hadn't there.
"Snape?"
"I heard you. What do you expect me to do about it? I don't remember anything like this--" Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, interrupting his retort.
"Snape! Hold up man! I wasn't accusing you of anything! I just wasn't sure how you'd take the news." He changed the subject quickly. "I climbed higher and saw some ruins just a bit away. Hopefully also potable water."
"Ah. Well, let's start walking then." He did his best to keep his voice level but it was too much effort to hide his irritation. The Auror nodded and released the binding spell, grabbing him just in case he slipped. He said not a word as the Auror carefully directed his levitated body downwards. It was hardly good form (or indeed wise) to irk a man who holds your life in his hands.
Shacklebolt, for his part, was acutely aware of the professor's pain wracked squint as well as his quickly squelched exclamations of pain when the unavoidable collision occurred. He was thankful that at least the younger wizard was trying not to be difficult. By the time he'd got Snape down both men were tense and sheened with perspiration. Both willingly rested on the ground for a few moments while the elder regained his bearings and worked out which direction they needed to go. The jungle closed in when they were at ground level and that which had seemed so clear and obvious from above was anything but, now.
Snape silently endured being levitated and guided along. The only action he could add to ease things was to aid in keeping himself from hitting things and moving aside those wayward vines and leaves that seemed intent on smacking into him.
Very quickly they discovered that the insects were a plague in the daytime, flying, creeping, hopping everywhere. Both men were in nearly constant motion trying to swat the things that seemed intent on dive headlong at them. Somewhat less disturbing, however, were the myriad colorful birds that dined on these insects. Snape wished there were more of them for despite his neck to foot clothing, he did not escape the attention of the hungry insects. Apparently clothing or lack of same made no difference to these horrible creatures.
"Snape?"
When had he fallen asleep? "Shacklebolt." His tongue was too thick. A rim touched his lips and he opened his mouth to drink, reaching a hand to hold the cup. "Not bad," he murmured after several gulps.
Shacklebolt chuckled softly. "I transfigured both water and beaker from available materials. Now rest. Molly was right, you really weren't ready for this." He settled down beside the ailing spy. it worried him that Snape hadn't noticed that they had, at last, made their way to the edifice. He looked down at the blood saturated bandages holding Snape's ankle. That wasn't helping anything either. He'd given up and spelled a tourniquet charm just below Snape's knee to reduce the blood flow but that was a desperate stopgap measure he hated. He considered making an exploratory foray deeper into the building but decided leaving Snape unguarded would not be wise. so he settled down beside the younger wizard and went through his pockets instead. Maybe he'd thought to bring some useful potions along?