Severus Snape and the secrets of time

Chapter 3 Escape

Severus awoke, alone, his whole body burning from the venom. The button on the neck of his shirt had popped off, and he found himself ripping the next two off also, allowing slightly more air to make it into his lungs. He was almost too weak to move, and his throat was so swollen that barely any air was making its way through. But he must move, he must fight. He refused to let this be the end. Using sheer will and every last bit of strength he had, he slowly rolled over, retrieved the anti-venom from his pocket, and took a swig. After a couple seconds he realized he was covered in blood. He took a little longer to find a blood replenishing potion, but took a gulp of that also. Next he retrieved his own wand, which had rolled into a crack between the floor and the wall.

As he lay there, slipping in and out of consciousness, he realized he had to find a way to escape before Voldimort came back, or one of the other death eaters came to dispose of his body. But simply retrieving his wand had taken all the strength he could muster. How was he ever going to be able to make it down the hill and escape without being seen? Especially with the entire town crawling with death eaters.

A thought occurred to him, the kids had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. That was because they had used the tunnel to reach the room. He was not aware of anyone else living who knew of the tunnel's existence.

He crawled across the floor toward the entrance to the tunnel, resting every metre or two. It took him far too long to reach it, but once he did he placed a crate over the entrance, concealing the opening and giving himself a little more time. If the children returned he would be discovered, but he might be able to evade any death eaters who came looking for him.

His head swam and he could feel the coolness of the earth on his cheek, as he started to once again lose consciousness. He had lost too much blood, and he needed medicine, but both Hogwarts and Hogsmead had spells on them to prevent anyone from apperating in or out. He once again retrieved the bottle of blood replenishing potion, took a drink, and forced himself to go on, though it felt like he was floating.

Up and down, forward and backward, all ran together. He ran into the wall, or was that the floor, more times than he could count. After what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, his arms gave way and he lay in the dirt unable to push himself back up. He finally submitted, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Voldemort's cold clear voice woke him "Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

It was done? No! Severus found it hard to believe that he had died running away. Never had he seen the boy run from a fight. He'd seen him stupidly run toward, and even start fights, but never run away.

"The battle is won." Voldemort droned on. "You have lost half of your fighters. My death eaters outnumber you, and the boy who lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family."

Wasn't it bad enough that Harry was dead? That Voldemort had won? Did he also have to incessantly monologue? It was more than Severus could bear. With his last bit of regained strength, he pushed himself to his feet, feeling for the first time in his life, glad that he was shorter and smaller than the marauders. He doubted it would work, but he spun as best he could on the spot in an attempt to apparate, and found himself suddenly in his own small sitting room at spinner's end.

It had worked! He was safe! For the moment. But apperating out had completely drained him of all of his strength. The room began spinning and darkness slowly enveloped him once more.

When he again awoke, he crawled to the shower, turned on the water, and lay in the frigid stream. He shivered violently as he let the water wash away the blood, the venom, and the dirt, flushing the wound as best he could and crying himself out. He wondered if he was only delaying the inevitable, but he had to try.

After a while he managed to curl up in a blanket in the corner of his sitting room, hidden by the wingback chair and a small table, and slept until after nightfall. He knew it would take him far too long to recover from his injuries, but he hoped it would also take Voldemort and the death eaters a while to find him. If he was lucky, he'd be gone before they came looking for him.

He was pleasantly surprised when he awoke that no one had shown up yet, as quite a few people knew where he lived. Perhaps they just hadn't gotten around to coming for him. Although he couldn't risk staying there any longer.

After drinking a few more different healing potions, he still felt weak, but strong enough to start packing. He stuck the death eater's wand in an old coat of his fathers, and his own up his sleeve. He had changed into a light pullover, along with a pair of clean trousers, and a comfortable pair of boots. He gathered his long black hair on top of his head under a cap, in order to blend in better. He then cast an undetectable extension charm over the inside pocket of his father's coat. He packed a small shelter, most of his potions and books, food, changes of clothes, Muggle and wizard alike, and anything else he could think of. It would be obvious that he had come back and taken most of his things, as his flat now looked rather empty, but it couldn't be helped. Just before leaving, he hung a small time turner on a long gold chain around his neck. He then apparated into the forest. He would blend into the muggle word and make a plan. He would fight, and fight dirty. It wouldn't be over!