As ever, standard disclaimers apply. Next chapter will follow shortly.
William Weasley was no fool. He didn't argue or ask questions. Barely registering his own uncertainty at abandoning Snape and the Auror, he immediately disapparated, returning himself to the outer grounds of the Malfoy mansion. The witches and wizards stationed in waiting there closed in on him, only lowering their wands upon recognizing the brilliant carrot colored pony tail trailing thinly down his back. The setting sun cast long shadows and he was surprised at how old the day had grown. It hadn't seemed that long that they'd been underground.
"What happened?" Moody asked as he pushed to the front of the gathered sentries.
"We were attacked. Kingsley ordered my away." The young red head reported grimly.
"Ambush?" Emmaline Vance asked in concern.
"No. I think... Snape accidently triggered something and that gave us away."
"Accidently?" Moody queried, his remaining natural eye narrowed in suspicion.
"Yeah." Bill affirmed. "We'd come to a narrow opening, what had been blocked when he'd been there last as a child. He passed through and I was following. Snape was speaking to me when there was a terrible glare. It cut him off. Kingsley told me to wait behind while he went in after Snape. He probably shouldn't have been in the lead by then, he wasn't all too steady on his feet. After a while I heard someone call out a spell, and shortly after that Kingsley yelled to me to disapparate."
"You didn't hear anything more from Snape?" Mad-Eye asked.
"No, nothing. So what do we do?" The young curse-breaker was ready to go back and mount a rescue no matter how ill conceived this idea might be.
"We go in." Moody decided much to young Weasley's approval. Not everyone agreed, however, but the retired Auror did not wait to argue his position. He merely growled that he was going and stalked off toward the mansion. Bill and another Auror hurried after him.
As the Curse-breaker had already done his work, entering the elegant abode was even less of a chore this time around. And the house-elves didn't even bother to come out of their Snape imposed exile there. Bill led the pair to the secret entrance and into the first passageway. They made good time in this hike, thanks to his foresight at marking the way the first time around.
As soon as Bill indicated they were getting close to where they had lost Snape, Moody gestured for the other man to take the lead and now the trio crept with tense silence into certain danger. Of course they expected Death Eaters to be waiting.
But there were none. Rather, the opening had been sealed by that same barrier that now hid Stonehenge from the world.
--
Whispers woke him, soft fluttery tickles that annoyed him to wakening though perhaps not to alertness. For when he felt his eyes open, it was without his conscious command. One of the mutterings resolved itself into the just barely familiar voice of the Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt. The rest remained nonsensical sounds.
"Snape, Snape, be very still." The Auror's voice was urgent.
That more than anything brought the Potions Master to almost sharp consciousness. He froze as he was, supine in a dimly lit and altogether unfamiliar room where large hulking forms loomed over him. He bit back a groan as awareness also brought back the agony of his shattered ankle. He must not have been altogether successful, as almost at once one of the forms reacted by reaching out a Hagrid sized hand to grab his jaw.
Deeply blue eyes beneath a strongly ridged brow studied his face. He stared back at the broad features, the brilliant, carrot red curly hair. The odd expression of curiosity mixed with concern. Not quite human, came the strange thought. The pressure on his jaw relaxed and the face moved away to speak in a deep rumbling voice to his companions. He would have asked who these people were but he realized just in time that the Auror could have no more an inkling than did he, himself. "At least they aren't Lucius and his cohorts," he said with a great deal less venom than he would normally have projected into his words.
"Yeah." Kingsley's face now moved into the space vacated by the foreign not-quite-giant. It didn't stay long but turned away to take another look at his ankle. The sound that came from the Auror did nothing to reassure Severus. Even less the, "Gotta do something about this soon," that followed.
Their guardians suddenly became animated as yet another of them entered the room, their voices, all more deep than even Snape's rich baritone, clamoring at once. The man spoke a few words and then, clearly, listened to the report of one of the others. He looked surprised and then turned to Kingsley. "Good day!" he greeted cheerily, a wide smile on his face, "Welcome!" He spoke English! Albeit with a most peculiar accent.
Kingsley's eyebrows rose as high as they could. "Erm..."
"You are surprised. Yes. As I would be in your place. I am Tessera Serat and I am an interpreter."
"Your English is quite good."
"Thank you. BBC, CNN, ABC, CBS..."
Snape looked confused, but Shacklebolt laughed, exclaiming. "Television!"
"Yes." The interpreter looked pleased. "But you surprise us by being here."
"It surprised us as well," Snape muttered grimly.
"What is this place?" Kingsley asked.
"An unused scientific research station. And not safe."
"Erm... We aren't the only ones accidently sent here."
"No? Your companions are in the jungle?" The interpreter frowned in what seemed to be dismay.
"They are not friends. They're criminals."
The frown deepened. "Nonetheless, the jungle is deadly. We will send out more search parties, but you and your companion we will evacuate from here. We can treat his injuries elsewhere. And yours."
"Mine? I'm not injured."
"No? You escaped the sting of the..." he paused then settled on a rather general term, "insects?"
"Well... No, I got stung, but--"
"They carry toxins."
"I see. Well, at least I can walk on my own."
"Excellent." Serat turned back to speak with his companions. In the middle of their conversation another contingent of aliens appeared, this time bringing with them some kind of levitated pallet.
Severus abruptly found himself swept up by a large pair of arms and shortly deposited on the contraption. He gasped as the motion and contact with the new surface jarred what he'd mistakenly thought were nearly deadened nerves. He felt the blood drain from his face and nausea tug at his gut. From an unreal distance he heard Shacklebolt's voice but couldn't make out the words. The dimly lit room, as well as the voices, disappeared along with his consciousness.
--
Kingsley walked alongside the floating stretcher, his attention split between the unconscious potions master who lay sprawled as limp as an overcooked noodle, and the alien people (Muggles?) escorting them. They were an interesting lot. In a typical London crowd, one of them would be noticed only as a somewhat peculiar looking person. Their brow ridges were strong such as only occurred very rarely among humans, almost Neanderthal-like. No, more than Neanderthal-like. And they didn't have eyebrows. Well, they wouldn't need them, would they, with that forehead. Hair color was a variety of shades from brilliant carrot red to a pale orangy gold at one extreme and a sort of coppery auburn at the other. None had black or even dark brown hair. None had straight hair, either. Skin tones ranged much the same as humans, though. They looked back warily when Kingsley's brown eyes focused on them, giving furtive, uncertain smiles that he supposed were meant to be encouraging.
They weren't. Back at the stairway the pallet was floated straight upwards while the rest of them climbed the risers. Finally they exited the ruined building altogether and before he could ask anything of the interpreter, a soft purple haze enveloped them. When it cleared, they were elsewhere again.
Indoors this time. The chamber was vast and contained what could only be some kind of Muggle control console. Of course nothing like anything Kingsley had ever seen before. And certainly far less explicable than anything ever conjured by the minds employed at BBC television. The walls were plain, devoid of any ornament except a huge monitor directly across from the console. It was blank at the moment. Blank and a sort of creamy white color with a dull matte finish. The walls were plain metal of some kind, there were no chairs and a woman stood at the console eyeing them with bored curiosity.
"This way, please." Serat's voice interrupted his study. A light touch on his shoulder prodded him toward an opening that had appeared behind them.
"Where are we?" Kingsley asked (already hazarding his own guess in his mind). The interpreter didn't have to prod the wizard any further. The pallet bearing Snape was already being guided out of the room by the pair that had accompanied it down to the planet and Kingsley was not letting it out of his sight.
"Starship, you would call it. Or spaceship. I think you use those terms interchangeably."
"I see. So... The planet we were on, it's not your home planet?" He pretended to be more interested in the conversation than where they were headed, but in fact, he totally expected he'd have need of knowing how to get around on his known at some point.
"No. Merely at one time an outpost. Your presence triggered alarms which summoned us. Luckily for you. It is an inhospitable place."
They followed the pallet and its pilots through an opening that appeared in the grey wall without any discernable summons. This brought them into a medium sized room that was brightly lit and contained a rather peculiar looking examining table along with unidentifiable equipment and a stern looking woman whose red-gold hair was streaked with steel and whose arms crossed over her chest let them all know of some displeasure.