Not Until We Are Lost

So he was trapped here, at least on this planet, for now, with no hope of getting back and helping out with the remainder of the war. Severus had to admit that he'd found himself in far better situations over the years, but he'd been in far worse ones, as well. At least the food was free. And with room service, he didn't have to go out if he didn't feel like it. He honestly hadn't felt like it much, since coming here, but when he had left the room, it was only in search of something to read. To take his mind off all the things he couldn't do to help.

Assuming Potter wasn't dead already, and the odds were in favor of that outcome, unfortunately. Of course, had he still been there, Severus was reasonably certain that he too would be dead now, and he most certainly couldn't help if that were the case. And here he was, dwelling on things he couldn't help, after he'd even gotten a book to distract him. A good book, too, from what little he'd read of it -- when he could concentrate on more than two sentences at a time, that was.

He took another sip of his wine, and looked back down at the page, determined to try again. Though he frowned, looking up once more, when he heard water running in the loo. He didn't think that he shared this suite with anyone, and he didn't remember leaving the taps on. After marking his place, Severus set down his wineglass on the table next to his chair and got to his feet, immediately heading toward the loo to investigate. When he reached it, however, the door was locked. Now that was odd.

Because while he might have accidentally left the water running in the lavatory or tub -- and it sounded like the tub -- he didn't think he would lock the loo from the inside and Apparate out without remembering.

Frowning even more deeply, he raised his hand to knock on the door. "Hello?" he asked, a little more loudly than he would normally have spoken, to carry through the door and over the running water. "Is someone in there?" A daft question, granted, but he didn't think taking the accusatory route of 'Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my lavatory?' was necessarily fair, considering that he might now have a roommate whom he hadn't yet met.

As soon as the Dark Lord mentioned the Deathstick, Severus knew two things: the first was that he was as good as dead, but that part was unsurprising. He had resigned himself to death many years before. Ever since Lily had died, life no longer appealed to him on its own merits. He only stayed alive because of his vow to protect her son. The second thing he knew, however, was that he had failed. He had failed to convince the Dark Lord to allow him to find Potter in time. He had failed to pass along the information that would tell the boy what he had to do.

He had failed, and he would die knowing that he had.

In spite of knowing it was futile, however, Severus still doggedly tried to convince him to allow him to find Potter. Until, that was, the Dark Lord said the wand would not be his whilst Severus lived. For a split second, he was confused, however, when it appeared that the Dark Lord intended to curse him with the wand anyway, but ... that was before Nagini's cage began to float toward him. Of course the Dark Lord couldn't have taken the chance of trying the wand against the one he considered its true master, even if that would still have been Dumbledore.

He need not speak Parseltongue to know the order the snake had been given. His efforts to dislodge the magical sphere from around him were fruitless -- just as fruitless as asking to find Potter had been. And Severus tensed in anticipation of the fangs that ... somehow failed to pierce his neck. He must have closed his eyes, as well, because after an indeterminate amount of time, he peeled them open again, only to find himself no longer in the Shrieking Shack. In fact, he was lying flat on his back, in a ... very nice, very comfortable bed. And in addition, he felt exceedingly well rested, in spite of not having consciously lain down to go to sleep.

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