Title: Timely Actions
Author: odogoddess
Team: snitch
Genre(s): time-travel
Prompt(s): doppelganger, coming home
Rating: NC-17
Warning/Kinks: de-aged Snape (he is 17 for the sexy bits, but if that is a problem, you can ignore the epilogue — it's not needed for the full story), *some very mild SS/LE and HP/HG (if you squint) on the road to SS/HP, wet-dreams, a touch of humiliation, wanking, h/c, angst, bj, fingering, face shot, bottom!Snape. This story is loosely canon compliant except for Rowling's crapilogue epilogue.*
Word Count: 25,200
Summary: First, Severus had to make sure Harry died. Now he has to make sure Harry lives.
A/N: Memory is such a fluid thing that if you ask ten people to recall an accident they just witnessed, each will give a different account, focusing on different things. Even in our own memories when we recollect events, we often focus on totally different aspects of the same event, not recalling it exactly as it happened at different times. So I used this device, not quoting canon moments verbatim, but providing a flavour of the moment, if you will. However, if this troubles you, call it writer's privilege, or if you prefer, think of it as eddies in the time stream. (someone should fetch him out)

There is a tiny homage to Minerva as she is portrayed by the redoubtable Dame Maggie Smith in HBP. Speaking of Dames, did you hear about Dame Judi's recent sizzling rebuttal? That's so bloody brilliant, I'd like a tee shirt of that saying.

This fic is dedicated to regan_v, jin_fenghuang, dementordelta, ellid and accioslash for their extraordinary kindness, as well as all those I met at the Azkatraz Snarry meet-up. If you are one of the people I met, I apologise for any curtness and/or brevity; it was not you, it was me and the pain/exhaustion levels I was experiencing.

Lastly, a lot of credit for this fic has to go to my wonderful (and forbearing) spouse chazpure, who is, quite simply, the most amazing, talented and beautiful person I know.

That all said... enjoy!

Timely Actions

No one noticed the low mournful cry during the lull in the battle, and if they had, they might have attributed it to their own low spirits and considered it apropos. Inside the dark, creaking shack, mournful sounds and cries, screams and other sounds of despair were not uncommon, either.

With spells being cast, and Patronuses running, galloping, slithering, cantering, scuttling, swimming and loping all around, a single burst of brilliant flame briefly illuminating a single room within the shack went utterly unremarked on or detected.

Many hours later, indeed after the battle, when a sober bespectacled lad and bushy-haired lass with an earnest expression led the older witch and the tall, dark and imposing wizard into the room they could only stare in grief, puzzlement and concern at the outline on the blood-soaked floor... rimmed with ashes.

Severus Snape woke with a gasp.

He was dead. He had to be dead.

The snake had struck true. He had not had time after Voldemort and Nagini left to retrieve the anti-venom in his pocket before the boy had come and his sole purpose — and some part of Severus insisted it was his 'soul' purpose — had become giving the needed information to him.

What information, he could no longer recall. The release of his memories had been irrevocable and absolute, but he knew without a doubt they had been retrieved and stored, and he fervently hoped, viewed and acted on. It was, he remembered this much, what Dumbledore had wanted. Despite a rocky and suspicious start, which Severus only vaguely recalled now, his decades-long relationship with Albus was one of trust, respect and devotion.

He felt a cold chill pass through him at the thought he might not have been successful.

Was he a ghost then? Was that why he was cold?

The thought of being a spectral figure for the rest of his, well, death, was not comforting.

'I should, at least, have been able to rest,' he groused, then frowned.

What happened to his voice? It was different, a bit higher in pitch and a touch raspy. The resonant tones he was accustomed to were gone.

Superb. Not only dead, but that damnable snake left me sounding like I did as an adolescent boy!

He sat up then and was astonished at how easily his body moved now, as well as how loose his clothes were.

He knew he'd lost weight over the last year, but his robes hadn't been this ill-fitting before... nor had his frock coat been too long for his arms.

He lifted his arms and shoved his sleeves back and froze. His hands were different.

They were slender, but nothing stained his skin and the calluses he'd developed over the years were gone. As he turned his left palm up he saw it was not the only thing gone.

His forearm was free of the Dark Mark.

He stood and stared and finally retrieved his wand from the dusty floor and went to stand before a partly broken mirror.

Severus gasped as he beheld the face he'd worn as a teenager.

Before he could marvel or wonder at it, a sound from downstairs distracted him and he instinctively hid behind the door and listened.

Harry fought to keep from yawning. The language of law in either Muggle or Magical realm remained stultifyingly dull.

The Headmistress seemed able to remain awake due to her obvious impatience. She had a great deal of work awaiting her, Harry knew.

'...as pertains to the disposition of Mr Snape's possessions, seeing as his body appears, to the best of the Ministry's knowledge, to have been incinerated by persons unknown, or possibly, ehem, ingested.'

The legal aide paused for the murmur of commingled horror and disgust that swept through the assembly, even as Harry sat straighter, preparing to speak out and offer to see to the man's estate, it being the least he could do for his foil-emeritus.

'We call Mr Silus Snape!'

McGonagall looked every bit as startled as Harry as they looked about the packed room. No one came forward.

Then the doors to the chamber opened, and a sour-faced Ministry aide stepped in, hands on the arm of a man with a very familiar face. Well, familiar to anyone who had been attending Hogwarts right after the first fall of Voldemort.

Black eyes beheld the room from behind a curtain of greasy, black hair. The tall, shabby form was given sturdier-looking dimensions by a heavy black wrapping coat. Sturdy canvas trousers held up by weathered braces over a starched cotton shirt, and a pair of damp, muddy Wellies completed the ensemble.

Snape pulled his thin arm from the firm grasp and glared at the man in a manner familiar to anyone who had attended Hogwarts in the last 18 years. Minerva spoke first, standing in her astonishment.

'Severus?'

Snape frowned, making creases appear in an otherwise unlined forehead that time had yet to mark permanently, and then shook his head in negation.

'That's my brother.'

The creak of a floor board sounded. Severus could feel it shift a little beneath his foot in its slightly overlarge boot.

'This is gonna be perfect.'

Severus went still with shock. He had not heard that voice in twenty years. He watched, unseen, as two teenage boys became visible from under a rather marvelous cloak.

'Just remember, Padfoot, we don't want Moony taking any fall out over this scheme so—'

'Yeah, yeah, first sight of fangs and we get the greasy bastard out of here.'

'Are you sure he's coming?'

'Course he is! Sleazy Slytherin couldn't pass up an opportunity to cause us trouble, now would he?'

James Potter looked, to Snape's surprise, a bit concerned. Sirius noted it.

'What? Second thoughts, Prongs?'

'If he gets here too soon, Pads, he'll see Moony... Remus. He'll know. It's too big a secret for him to keep.'

'He'll see nothing. Peter's on look out and he's got his watch timed for moonrise.'

Potter said nothing, merely nodding, and it was clear Black took his silence for acquiescence, but Snape could see the boy still felt uncertain. This surprised him nearly as much as seeing these two once again. Just what was going on? Was he dead? Or had he somehow gone back in time?

He remembered this night rather well, and his improbably youthful face cemented the date for him. It was the full moon night of April in 1976, the night he had confronted a teenage werewolf in the Shrieking Shack and nearly been killed.

Was he dead? Was he meant to witness his ignominious moments, all his worst mistakes, for all eternity? The thought was disturbing.

The sound of screaming from downstairs which changed mid-cry into an animal howl made his cold skin goosepimply with fear.

James, he noted, merely smiled, pulling out his wand and slipping under his cloak again.

'Padfoot, that's your cue.'

Sirius Black changed into his Animagus form and trotted out the door and down the stairs and Snape could hear Potter move further back into the room, and waited, wand drawn.

The sound of scrabbling claws and barking preceded the appearance of the black dog, followed eagerly by the werewolf Snape well remembered. He held his wand tightly, prepared for anything.

'Wingardium Leviosa.'

He heard Potter if not saw him, and the results were obvious. The werewolf floated up, confused, enraged and began to growl, twist and claw all about, harmlessly, as he was eight feet up in the air. Black changed back, laughing, even as Potter slid the cloak off his head to reveal he was also laughing.

'Good one, James.'

'I try. Now go. Fetch the grease ball so we can scare the piss out of him.'

Sirius saluted and shifted back to his Animagus form, running down the stairs.

Snape was growing angrier. He would watch, to witness what had happened, but he was starting to question his memory of events.

He had wondered why Potter had come along so quickly on that day. He had wondered at the mongrel beast that had jumped on him and snapped jaws in his face before leaping out of the Shack, barking loudly.

He could hear now, the barking. The same oddly joyous sound, as well as the muttered imprecation he had made. Was this a memory or...

The sound of steps on the stairs made Potter slide the cloak back over his head. Snape watched as the shadow of his younger self approached the doorway. The werewolf, still growling, but no longer clawing as there was nothing to claw at, was slowly lowered to the ground. Snape gripped his wand and readied himself. His young self suddenly stood at the door.

The werewolf turned, spotting him and let loose an eerie cry, before roaring at his new victim. Young Snape lifted his wand, preparing to cast, but his wand suddenly flew out of his hand and his eyes grew wide at the inexplicable event.

Snape stepped from behind the door, even as the werewolf advanced closer to his young self. Something that had troubled him since that day had finally been explained. He had not dropped his wand from fear or nerves. It had been Potter under that damnable Invisibility Cloak.

He had no idea if he could even do magic now, if he was dead and merely witnessing the event, but he knew he could not just stand idle.

The werewolf lifted his paw to strike as young Snape turned to flee and Snape cast 'Sectumsempra!' even as the cloak slipped down around an astounded Potter's shoulders.

Part of the cutting spell hit the werewolf, making him withdraw his paw and howl, even as Potter stopped staring dumbly long enough to cast 'Wingardium Leviosa!' and levitate the werewolf up again.

Unfortunately, most of the Sectumsempra struck young Snape who had been about to slide down the banisters and make his escape. He screamed in fear and terror, even as the werewolf screeched and growled in fury. A thud could be heard from down below as young Snape fell.

Potter was staring at older Snape (at least in his head he still knew himself to be older) now in confusion and consternation. Droplets of blood from the werewolf's wound sprayed them both and Snape scowled.

'Incarcerous!'

The floating werewolf now raged against the bonds, his wounded arm dripping gore onto the dirty floorboards.

'I should do the same to you,' he muttered at the gobsmacked teen who had made his young life so miserable.

Then he stepped quickly from the room and hurried down to see to his younger self.

'His papers are in order.'

'Why wouldn't they be?' Snape sniffed indignation as he grabbed back his wallet from Shacklebolt.

The Minister for Magic glanced over at the Headmistress who looked over to Harry Potter who merely stared at Snape. The resemblance was uncanny, and he was hard-pressed not to poke the man to see if he was real.

The four were seated in the Minister's office, Snape's appearance having brought the Wizengamot to a screeching halt, or rather more of a murmuring one that even the gavel-banging and calls for order could not restore.

'Severus never said anything about having a brother,' Minerva finally said quietly.

Snape's expression did not change, but he shrugged. 'Mum left my father and brother behind when she found out she were carrying me.'

The Northern influence in his otherwise well-modulated tones reminded Minerva now of his mother. She well remembered Eileen Prince; they had been class mates if not house mates. Severus, she recalled, had worked hard his first two years with the help of Lucius Malfoy, to remove all vestiges of his 'unfortunate upbringing' and become, if not a model of Slytherin decorum, then something resembling proud Slytherin dignity.

Kingsley looked to McGonagall, who nodded. 'I do remember that Severus lost his mother the summer following his fifth year. There was no explanation given, and the Heads of House were given to believe she had died, not been literally lost. His father followed not long after. Severus would have gone to orphanage except the Malfoys fostered him his last two terms.'

Harry looked up at this, startled. 'The Malfoys?'

She nodded. 'Yes. Abraxas Malfoy fostered a handful of Slytherin and Ravenclaw students who lost their parents or whose parents were not so enamoured of the Dark Arts and disinherited them for their interest.'

Harry sat straighter. 'So that's why he got into the Death Eaters! I never could figure it out, based on what everyone said and the memories he gave to me, but now it makes sense'

'It may well be, but Harry — he was already well immersed in the Dark Arts by then. The Malfoys merely encouraged leanings he already held.'

'Look,' Snape interrupted with a very familiar, irritated tone. 'May I be on my way?'

'It's not as simple as all that, Mr Snape,' Kingsley replied. 'You were brought here because of your brother.'

Since all of them were used to seeing that face, albeit a bit older in appearance, showing very little emotion, the stricken expression on those stoic features took them all aback, as did the catch in his voice as he spoke.

'He's dead. That's what that fellow said when he brought me here.'

'Yes. I'm sorry to have to confirm that. So the question of his estate is clarified with the verification of your credentials. The entire estate belongs to you, Mr Snape.'

He looked momentarily dour, although his eyes grew a bit bright, and he finally asked with reluctance, 'And how much might that be?'

'His vault, I'm afraid, is nearly empty, but there is a row house in Huddersfield.'

Snape nodded. 'That's where Mum said she lived with my father until I came along.'

McGonagall interrupted. 'You obviously know you have a brother. Did your mother tell you about him?'

Snape nodded again. 'She did, and about my father. She said he were no good — he used to yell and hit her, you see, as well as my brother, because they were different from him. She thought he'd do the same to me, so she left. It didn't work, though, because I'm different, too.'

'How so?'

He looked to Minerva unflinchingly. 'I'm a Squib.'

Silence fell over the group and he finally sighed. 'She always said my father wouldn't have minded me. She said I should have come along first and then he wouldn't have been so upset about my brother being like Mum.'

'So she left to protect you, but it turned out to be unnecessary.'

'Oh, aye. But she didn't know until I didn't get my Hogwarts letter. She kept saying my letter would come, but I never got one.'

'Why did she not go back?'

'Too late, weren't it? She said she'd made her bed and would lie on it. It weren't bad, though, our life, me and Mum.'

He grew a bit pensive and Harry prodded him. 'What is it?'

Those so familiar black eyes focused on Harry. 'Just that she always wished she hadn't left at all. She said it were a shame I'd never get to know my brother. I figured I'd look him up some day. The post mistress has an advert for that, for people without a computer. They can get information for a pittance on the internet.' He sighed. 'Now he's gone. I'll never get to know him.'

Harry looked stricken and McGonagall sighed.

'We can tell you of him, if you like, Mr Snape. If you're not pressed for time?'

'Not at all. I've been out of work for months. All the factories closed and there's not much call for manual labour even on farms anymore. Local farmers have harvesters, big machines, that pick and bale and all. No call for a good pair of honest hands.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Shacklebolt intoned sincerely. He had the look Harry recognized, however, of a man who was pressed for time and wished the conversation would either move along or end.

'I've got plenty of room at my place,' he said now. 'You could stay with me for a while. Until you get on your feet again.'

That black gaze made him swallow. Snape's nostrils flared slightly as he assessed him in a manner with which Harry was all too familiar, except this man did not leave him with the impression he was found lacking.

'Who might you be? I know that's the Minister for Magic, and that lady worked with my brother, but who are you?'

Harry's smile was earnest and his expression reflected his regret. 'I was one of his students. He saved my life more than once, and helped me destroy a very evil man that had killed a lot of people and was about to kill a lot more. That's how he died. Helping me.'

Snape studied Harry for a long time with those unnerving black eyes. 'So you feel you owe him?'

'In a way. I'd offer to put you up, though, regardless. It's the decent thing to do.'

'Right kind of you, but—'

'Mr Snape, correct me if I'm wrong,' McGonagall suddenly interrupted, 'but as I understand it, you know about our world?'

'Yes, ma'am. Mum taught me everything. She even tried to teach me magic, but it weren't to be. But I know all about your Hogwarts Academy, and the Ministry and Diagon Alley. I'd not seen any of it until today, though.'

'You can read and write?'

'Oh, aye! Mum taught me reading, writing, history, herbology, astronomy and maths. Arithmancy she called it. I never could get the figures to move around like she could, but I could tot them up just fine. I were no good with Potions, but I can make herbal cures, teas and the like. The folk in the village come to me for their headache tisanes and liniment for their arthritis and special tea for their asthma and all.'

'Sounds like you could set up your shingle as a provider of natural goods.'

'You don't get much for a bag of tea. Most times I get paid with home made bickies.'

'Not from you personally, but people will pay if they go to the apothecary for a cure.'

'Oh, aye. Times been I'd wish for my own shoppe, but a man like me don't faff about with fancies, seethee? Things are what they are.'

Minerva merely nodded. 'So you are currently unemployed?'

'I said I was, didn't I?' He sighed, and then scratched at his head before nodding at her. 'My apologies, ma'am. It's been a raw day.'

'Of course.' She did not seem to mind at all. 'Have you ever considered teaching, Mr Snape?'

The man seemed gob struck. 'Me? Teaching? I don't have the smarts or the schooling for that. My brother's the one you'd want. Or Mum.'

'No, I believe you would do quite nicely. There is a position open that I cannot hope to fill in the time I have. It requires no more education than you appear to have. The main requirement is a thorough understanding of both the Muggle and Magical world.'

'Minerva,' began Shacklebolt, even as Harry blurted, 'Professor—'

'Mr Snape? Would you be interested?'

'Well, I'll go to the foot of my stairs...' He sat back, looking stunned. 'Could someone like me teach at your Academy? Being a Squib and all?'

'The school's finest Astronomy professor was a Squib, and we've had various instructors of Astronomy, Herbology, and in the past, History, who have been Squibs. Currently, our caretaker is the only one on staff, so you would not be entirely alone.'

He considered this, then enquired, 'What's the pay like?'

Her lips quirked slightly, but she responded, 'You get room and board, so the pay stipend is minimal. But it would enable you to save over the term. I would expect ten months from you, at a minimum, in other words, the full term. That would allow me time to find someone else for next term, unless, of course, you found you enjoyed the work in which case you could stay on longer. Under contract, of course. I'm quite certain our Herbology Professor would be delighted to allow you space in the greenhouses if you cared to continue working with herbs and making your own teas and tisanes in your spare time.'

Harry's smile widened as Snape shook his head in amazement. 'Well, I'll be buggered. Me — a teacher!'

'Profanity, I'm afraid, is not allowed at the school. At least not in front of the students.'

He blinked, and then nodded respectfully. 'Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. I were just surprised.'

'Understandable. Then do you accept?'

'Yes, ma'am. If you reckon I'm good enough for Hogwarts.'

'More than good enough for the position of Muggle Studies instructor, I would say, Mr Snape. Or should I say Professor Snape?' She smiled now. 'There has been a Professor Snape at the school for nearly 20 years now and it would have distressed me greatly to have to break with that tradition.'

Kingsley and Harry exchanged looks, but Minerva McGonagall looked very well pleased, indeed.

Pomfrey appeared as soon as Snape levitated his injured younger self out from the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow. To her credit, and Severus Snape would never forget it, she merely did a rapid double take on seeing two of him, before withdrawing her wand and beginning to examine his younger self.

James Potter soon emerged from the tunnel to find Pomfrey treating Snape, and blanched at the sight of the other Snape by the tree.

The rustle of steps on the grass made them look up to see Dumbledore, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black approaching.

His two despised boyhood foils were easy to ignore in the face of seeing Albus once again, and the only reason Severus was able to remain standing on suddenly nerveless legs was the fact he was holding the knot on the tree to keep it from moving.

The canny old wizard took in the scene, drew his wand and cast a non-verbal Patronus which flew toward the castle, then followed it up with a freezing charm to hold the tree in place before turning his attention to Pomfrey.

'Poppy?'

'Headmaster, this boy's wounds aren't closing,' she said in desperation. 'It was dark magic that caused them.'

'I can help,' Snape finally said. Dumbledore eyed him intently for a long moment and he felt the brush of Legilimency before the Headmaster nodded.

'By all means, Mr Snape.'

He drew his wand and knelt by his younger self, speaking softly to Poppy.

'The counter curse is: vulnero signum dura. You sketch the wounds as you chant. The curse leaves a scar, though, unless dittany is used straightaway.' He knew this well. He had borne scars on his back and shoulder since the incident, although he wondered now if this new body still held those scars.

'Scars are the last thing I'm concerned with at this point. He's lost a dangerous amount of blood.'

'He wouldn't have been hurt at all if—' James began to protest, but the Headmaster cut him off instantly.

'You will get your turn to speak, Mr Potter, but not now.'

Pomfrey continued as if uninterrupted.

'He's also suffered a very serious concussion. You go on with the counter curse, boy, as it seems to be working,' she instructed Severus, before looking back up. 'Headmaster, this boy needs the Infirmary, possibly even St Mungo's.'

'I'm afraid there is more to this situation than meets the eye, Poppy. We will get you what you require, however. In fact...' he turned then and waved his wand at a fallen branch, transfiguring it into a stretcher. 'We shall take him to the Room of Requirement. Ah, Minerva!'

He turned to catch sight of the bespectacled witch who took the scene in with a disapproving expression. Her reaction to two Snapes was merely the raising of a brow.

'Minerva, we have a delicate situation. Please see that your three young charges here do not leave your sight as you clear the way to ensure no one else sees this procession as we make our way to the Come and Go Room.'

'The Come & Go Room? What on Earth for?'

'There is more here than meets the eye, my dear Minerva. Let's just say we need take timely action.'

She blanched slightly at his words, but merely nodded briskly.

'Potter. Pettigrew. Black. You're with me. Come along and do not dawdle.'

Pettigrew stammered, 'B-but what a-about—'

'Silence! You boys are in quite enough trouble already.'

The three boys cowered slightly at her sharp tone and fell into step ahead of her. Snape continued to work as they left, but he could hear her aggrieved tone as he continued to chant.

'Why is it whenever there is trouble at this school it is always you three?'

Harry had insisted on it and paid for it, despite the fact there was no body. The placement had been approved of by Minerva, despite argument from some quarters which quickly died when the Minister stood by her.

Snape's grave marker was next to Dumbledore's tomb, smaller and made of solid onyx.

Since there was nothing to put in the simple oak casket, Harry had asked those attending to please bring something that reminded or recalled Snape to them to be buried.

Silus had come, dressed in a dark Muggle suit with Trilby that matched and which he removed for the ceremony. He had stepped up first, by consensus, and he put their mother's wand in the box.

'He went to school with it,' he said. 'He gave it back to her after he were able to get his own. She don't need it now and nor do I. I reckon he can use this where he's gone.'

Minerva had followed, putting in a scarlet and gold tartan scarf. She wore a green and silver tartan scarf which she touched as she spoke. 'He gave me this scarf before a particularly heated match, in tartan so I couldn't complain about the fact it was Slytherin house colours, the sneaky lad. Anyway, it's time I returned the favour. Rest easy, lad. I know you're in good hands.'

Hagrid's offering had been the largest — an armload of various plants and animal parts that the Potions Master had often procured from him. 'Rest well, Professor. Thanks for minding out for Harry all them years.'

Flitwick had silently put in a magnum of Firewhisky, the tears running down his creased cheeks speaking more eloquently than any words he could have said.

Pomona, to everyone's surprise, put in a slim book of poetry. 'He read one to me once, and I never forgot it,' was all she would say.

Poppy Pomfrey stepped up and put in a bottle of Dreamless Sleep. 'I'm sure you don't need this, but just in case, my boy...'

Argus Filch, his stern face crumpled with grief he was fighting to keep in, put in a familiar quill and ink pot with some parchment. 'You always needed more o' this, Professor. So's you can take down the names of any miscreants on that side now.'

Arthur and Molly Weasley put in a plate of bread-and-butter pudding. 'Your favourite,' Molly had whispered. 'Spelled to stay fresh and warm.'

'Thank you for protecting our children, old man,' Arthur had added. 'Even George. We understand now why you did what you did.'

'Yes,' Molly said in a slightly choked tone. 'We forgive you, Severus.'

The Malfoys had been represented by Narcissa, who came alone and put in a single bottle of elf-made wine and a bunch of forget-me-nots, along with a note.

Andromeda Tonks stepped up, baby Teddy asleep against her shoulder, and put in a silver goblet.

'You used to give my son-in-law his Wolfsbane in that. I was given to understand you secretly saved his life during one particular battle. Well, because of that, he was able to leave me a grandson to cherish and remember him and my daughter by. Fare well, Severus Snape.'

Slughorn had stepped up and put in a single small vial of Felix Felicis. 'You were the only other student, aside from dear Harry over there, to have brewed this perfectly on the first try.'

He cleared his throat then, looking embarrassed, but added resolutely, 'I should have given you this at the time, instead of accusing you of cheating. Your mother was a dab hand at Potions and I ought to have recalled that and seen where you came by your talent, not quashed your efforts. I do apologize, my boy. I hope you can forgive me, wherever you are.'

Trelawney stepped up then and put in a single spray of purple Hyacinth without saying a word before moving away with a sorrowful expression. Hermione had whispered to Harry that purple hyacinth meant regret and was a request for forgiveness.

The Minister for Magic was the last to step up and he gently placed an Order of Merlin, First Class, atop the pile of material, and then firmly closed the casket with a singular sense of finality.

'You were an unforgettable man, Snape. I'm not sure you felt you had any, but I thought of you as a friend. I hope you're enjoying yourself, wherever you are.'

Green eyes gazing down on him.

'Look. At. Me.'

The green eyes reflected concern, concern for him,

and uncertainty.

Look at me. Let me see the colour of my House, the colour of Spring, I beg you remind me of my only friend in the world as I go.

He had to give this boy everything, all of himself.

'Look. At. Me.'

He wasn't a boy anymore, either. He was a man. Severus felt a sense of justified pride in seeing those broad shoulders and bewhiskered face, knowing it was in no small part due to him that Harry had reached manhood.

I kept my promise, Lils.

He forced himself to let go now, to give up all he was to this young man, this child of his only friend as a boy himself, the kindest person he had ever known. He had to let go of all of it, all of himself.

Severus let go.

'Ah!'

He woke spunking himself, his bedcovers, even his drapes with liberal, youthful abandon. He'd quite forgotten he used to sleep with pyjama pants on, and his drapes spelled to silence, for a reason.

His face grew hot now as his dorm mates slid back the drapes and began a chorus of 'Ah! Ah! Here comes my hot loveseed!'

Avery and Mulciber were howling with laughter and Severus fumed as he grabbed his wand and used it to clean up.

They rounded on him now, teasing him mercilessly with threats of public shaming and finally extracting his promise to help them prank Mary MacDonald. The Gryffindor witch had spurned Mulciber's advances and he intended to humiliate her as much as she had humiliated him.

'It's got to be cure-resistant,' Mulciber insisted.

'Yeah, that'll teach the stuck-up prig. Some Pureblood she is,' Avery contended. 'See if she likes having that written on her face for at least a week.'

'No, a month,' crowed Mulciber. 'You can do that, right, Sev?'

Snape nodded, remembering the Granger girl's cursing of Marrieta Edgecombe and reflecting that students didn't change much as time went by.

It was Albus's fault, he thought now. He had not wanted to impersonate his younger self, but Dumbledore had given him no choice.

He had shared select memories with his old friend and mentor, who had then bidden Minerva to witness them, as well. They had confirmed his contentions, but could not explain how and why he had come to be in this time, in this body. Neither he nor they could say with any degree of certitude exactly what had happened to send him back, but at least they believed that he was, indeed, from the future.

As such, McGonagall noted, it was imperative that little if anything be changed. She prodded him to review his own memories relating to the time to ensure he did not slip up, since he had to admit he did not recall having been laid up in the Infirmary for an indefinite time after the Shrieking Shack incident in his own memories.

All Dumbledore had said was, 'I find the situation beggars credibility at being a coincidence, given what you so recently acquired, Minerva.'

Severus waited for clarification, but did not receive any.

She merely nodded thoughtfully, and then enquired, 'What are we going to do?'

'Young Mr Snape, and I shall be using that term to delineate him from Mr Snape here, is going to be unconscious for some time, per Poppy. I will be modifying Mr Pettigrew and Mr Black's memories. They need not remain aware of the entirety of the situation. Mr Potter, however,' He sighed, steepling his fingers. 'You do understand why he must remain aware, Severus?'

He nodded. He knew now, if he had not known until witnessing the scene for himself. He had always thought events in the Shack had been hazy due to fear, a demoralising belief for the young man he'd been. In fact, they had been hazy due to the concussion he'd suffered and the no-doubt incomplete explanation he'd been given on regaining consciousness.

He still remembered Dumbledore chastising him, telling him he'd been foolish indeed and swearing him to silence for his folly, and to protect Remus Lupin's condition. He still recalled the intense resentment he'd felt at being told James Potter had been the one to save him.

Now he knew what really happened, and his resentment had grown. Potter had never saved him at all. Even as a teen he'd privately felt the stuck-up toe rag wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire, and wondered mightily at his peculiar change of heart.

His only comfort was knowing Black and Pettigrew had been Obliviated, and that Potter had been placed under the Unbreakable Vow as regarded his doubled-status. He had not been told the total truth, either.

'Polyjuice, of course, Mr Potter! One of my own friends from the Ministry who was checking into the security of the situation as regards Mr Lupin, and a good thing, too, as you can see. Truly, we owe Mr Snape a vote of thanks for having pointed out the flaw in our system, a situation we are working to alleviate before next full moon. Now, it is late and you should get back to your dorm. Pip, Pip!'

Albus Dumbledore, Snape reflected now as he showered and dressed before his first day of classes, was not merely a fine wizard and a good mummer, but he was also a daft apeth — brilliant, but utterly barmy.

'I see what you meant about his looks. He really does look like a young Severus Snape,' Hermione said, smiling reminiscently. 'How sad, though, that he never got to meet his brother or vice-verse. If ever someone could have used the gentling and nurturing influence of a sibling it was the Professor. His life as you described, seems so very lonely.'

She and Harry were walking in Diagon Alley, getting their books together for their last year, very much like in the old days with the exception of Ron being absent; he was working now with George, a situation even Hermione could not gainsay. Ron had proven quite intractable in the matter.

'Bill's got a family and job. Charlie's got his dragons in Romania. Percy's got his job at the ministry. Ginny's got one last year of school and she's been made Head Girl. That leaves me to help out George and I won't shirk that duty or leave my brother alone. He needs someone around.'

Even Hermione had conceded his reasoning was sound, not to mention compassionate, and had given her blessing to the breaking of their long-lived trio. They would always remain best of friends, after all, after everything they had been through. Going to classes together for one more year was not as meaningful as it once might have been.

Harry had not intended on returning for his last year; he did not have to sit his NEWTs after all, given that he was offered nearly any position he would care to hold on a platter. However, McGonagall had requested that he do so, not merely to be able to complete his schooling and never have anyone say he had achieved his position without merit, but also to calm the nerves of both students and parents. With Harry Potter returning to school, many who might have not returned felt safer, able to go back to the site of so much death and destruction.

'I just can't get over how much he looks and sounds like Snape,' he said now. 'Severus, I mean. It's almost like he's back, but... more human somehow.'

'Harry, that's an awful thing to say,' she chided. 'Just because someone is not nice, doesn't automatically mean they're inhuman, or even a bad person. Severus Snape was a very good man.'

'He was a murderer!'

They both turned to face a middle-aged witch who had been walking behind them and overheard Hermione's staunchly voiced last comments.

Harry riled. 'Snape acted under Dumbledore's orders. Dumbledore ordered him to kill him, just like he ordered me to feed him poison that same night. Voldemort killed Snape and I killed Voldemort. Doesn't that make me a murderer, too?'

The witch was taken aback, both at his tone, as well as his use of the long-forbidden name.

'You Know Who was evil. Killing him was a good you done,' she finally said. 'Dumbledore was a good m—'

'Dumbledore was just a man. He was a great wizard, yes, but he was also just a man like any other who could make mistakes. But one thing he wasn't mistaken about was that Severus Snape was a good man, an honourable man. He may not have been kind, but he kept me alive even though I reminded him every single day of his worst mistakes and his most painful memories. So believe what you like, but know that it's only half the truth, and if you want the whole of it, then read the Quibbler's last issue. My interview is there and not a word was changed.'

He nodded at her, then grabbed Hermione's hand and moved along rapidly, not stopping until he was by Eeylop's to catch his breath.

He was still angry, but speaking his mind had helped, as had being with Hermione, whose presence was always a comfort to him.

'You know she probably won't change her mind?'

He nodded, scowling slightly, before sighing. 'It's just... I hate them saying anything about him when he's not here to defend himself.'

'I think if he was here, he might not have, Harry. He never said much when anyone defamed him. Except for students, of course, and then he just took house points or gave out detentions. I don't think he put much stock in what people said about him,' she pointed out. 'He knew who he was and that was enough.'

Harry nodded again, and then relaxed. 'You're right. I just... I wish I'd had more time with him. I wish I'd done more, thanked him for all he did. All I can do now is—'

'Try to clear his name?'

'Maybe,' he hedged. Then he looked down at the list he carried, hoping to change the subject. 'Well, we've got our books. We got new robes. I got new shoes. You got enough supplies to write miles of essays. I think that's everythi—'

'Harry.' She was gazing at him earnestly when he looked over to her and she merely tilted her chin, indicating the window. 'You'll need another. You've got a lot of correspondence.'

He turned and his face twisted slightly as he beheld the row of owls in the window of the animal emporium.

'Oh.'

'She can't be replaced, but she can be remembered. Just like Snape,' Hermione added softly.

After a long moment, Harry nodded.

Severus squirmed in his seat and tried to pay attention to McGonagall.

His eager erection pressing insistently against his flies was uncomfortable to say the least. He didn't even know what had caused it. He hadn't even been thinking about sex.

He had merely sat down for class and up it came, almost instantly at full mast in the confines of his pants. He had not had this problem for, well, since he was a randy teenager. Which he currently was.

'Sev?'

He looked over to find Lily smiling at him from across the row.

'Lils?' The nickname fell from his lips automatically. He had known her, been friends with her since he was a boy.

He could not now recall exactly how they had met, but they had grown up in the same miserable wet morass of a town and he counted her as a good friend, perhaps his best friend. A slight pang went through him as he realised that in his time she was dead. Dead by the same mad man that had tried to kill him and was, no doubt, trying to kill her son.

Snape hoped now that Harry was acting on the information he had given him. He could not recall any of it, but he knew Dumbledore had said it was imperative he give it to Harry and so he had. It had been part of paying his debt to this pretty young woman now looking at him with those clear green eyes.

'What happened last night? I heard James and Sirius whispering about it over breakfast. James said you were out after curfew?'

He rolled his eyes. Trust Potter to ignore the Unbreakable Vow in order to gossip.

'I caught him at mischief,' he said now, hoping to dissuade her from further enquiry.

'He said you'd been hurt. Are you all right?' She seemed to study him now and he shifted up, leaning forward so she could not see his lap, managing to keep from wincing with difficulty.

'Just some cuts. Madam Pomfrey took care of me,' he replied truthfully.

Her green eyes flared with indignation. 'Did he hurt you?'

He was touched at her concern for him, but merely shook his head. 'No.'

It was even the truth, he thought now. I hurt me. Yet I wouldn't have if that idiot hadn't been trying to prank me using a deadly monster for his bloody scheme.

She studied his face and he wondered why she felt he might be lying. He might not remember everything, but he did know he had never lied to Lily. Kept things private or not told her everything, perhaps, but never outright lied.

'All right,' she finally relented. 'He made it sound like it was some big thing.'

'He's got a big head, is all,' he replied now, adding, 'to match that oversized ego.'

Lily giggled at this and he smiled, finding the action an easy one, something that drew him aback. The sudden realisation that he had not smiled so readily since these long gone days nearly made him choke and he turned to flip his book open to cover his response.

She was my friend. A good friend. How on Earth did I end up serving under a monster that would eradicate her and others like her?

The answers were not to be found in Advanced Transfiguration. He glanced back up to find her reading her own book and he sighed with relief. Even his erection had died at the intensity of grief and confusion he had experienced.

Severus could not remember everything, but he remembered this much: he had strived for years to provide information to Dumbledore in the hopes of vanquishing the Dark Lord. He had struggled to maintain his distance from Lily's son in order to be able to assist him from afar; he had saved him countless times and would, and did, give his life for him.

It was the least he owed her.

A small volley of spitballs suddenly struck his temple and when he looked over, glaring, a gobstone came whizzing up to strike his forehead and deluge him with foul-smelling sludge.

Pettigrew's quavering stage whisper of 'now he'll have to actually wash his hair' confirmed the miscreants, although their snickering would have given them away. Snape studied them resentfully as he used his wand to Scourgify himself, wondering mightily all the while how sweet, kind, caring Lily ever got together with such an insensitive, bullying lout.

'Chuffing heck!'

'Cor... it's him!'

'I thought he died!'

'His body wasn't found, you know.'

'He's so young-looking!'

'Maybe he's used an Age Potion.'

'If anyone knew how to make one it would be that greasy git.'

Harry sat back, amused, in the last row of the classroom and listened to the comments as Snape wrote his name on the blackboard that already held page numbers and a list of Muggle terms.

When Silus turned around to face the class, some giggles were stifled and more murmuring took place.

Severus Snape had never worn anything less than a full mourning suit, frock coat, waistcoat, cravat, boiled shirt and, when teaching, his professorial robes. Silus Snape had robes on, but he wore them over a pair of grey corduroy trousers, a simple white, long-sleeved shirt and a plain woolen jumper the colour of moss. His feet were encased in worn, but sensible hiking boots.

'I'm Silus Snape. I understand most of you were taught by my brother. I'm not him.' His black eyes scanned the room, which was silent, most of the students mesmerized by that so familiar voice.

'He sounds just like him!' the whisper was loud enough to be heard in the room and he looked to the student that spoke.

'I take it, Miss Patil, that you have summat to say regarding my voice?'

Having been witness to the Headmistress showing the man class photographs and pointing out his likely students in her office, as well as something of their backgrounds and/or scholastic achievements, Harry smiled as the rest of the class erupted in a flurry of loudly whispered, 'how did he know her name?'

Seamus spoke first. 'Forgive me, Professor, but it seems to me, to some of us, that it's a bit of a coincidence that Snape, the Headmaster and a Death Eater, disappears after the battle, then you show up looking and sounding just like him.'

'Except, Mr Finnegan that I am 16 years younger than my brother.'

'He was a Potions Master. He knew how to make Age Potions. Long-lasting ones, too, I'd wager.'

'Then you know more about him than do I,' Silus admitted, a bit regretfully. He looked around the room. 'You all quite likely know him better than I did, never having met him.'

'Convenient, that.' This from Michael Corner who sat opposite Harry's side of the room in the back with a smug expression on his face.

'Unfortunate would be the term I'd use, Mr Corner.'

'So why aren't you teaching Potions then,' enquired Susan Bones.

'Perhaps, Miss Bones, because I lack a wand. In fact,' he drew in a breath and admitted calmly. 'I lack magic of any kind. I'm a Squib.'

The murmur that followed this pronouncement was louder and more varied than the last. Silus let it go on for a few moments, during which Harry found himself mentally applauding.

There was no question about it in his mind; this man was definitely a Snape. He had the same pride, the same strength of character. He found himself smiling at Silus who was studying the class. When the black eyes focused on him, he was pleased to see the man nod. While he didn't smile back, his gaze softened and Harry could tell he was pleased.

His voice reflected this as he cleared his throat to start his first class.

'All right then, we've wasted enough time. We need to cover the material outlined in chapters one and two of this textbook. You should know before we begin — there are errors in the text.'

Green eyes gazing down on him.

'Harry...'

The green eyes reflected concern, concern for him,

and uncertainty.

He had to give him everything, all of himself.

'Harry...'

He forced himself to let go, to give up all he was to this boy, this child of his only friend as a boy himself, the kindest person he'd ever known.

'Harry...'

Severus woke, gasping as his pulsing cock ejaculated a copious load of semen onto his chest and belly.

He had cast a silencing charm before he slept, so at least he did not have to face the teasing of his dorm mates, but the powerful dream left him edgy, and he was chagrined when his erection merely softened slightly, but did not dissipate.

It was torture being sixteen, he remembered. He also remembered that he could ease the situation by taking matters in hand, so to speak, with enough frequency that he did not keep springing unbidden erections at every passing breeze, as seemed to be happening.

It was not natural to him, however, not natural to the man he had been. He had not had this problem since he had been this age. He recalled now that after Lily's death he had stopped touching himself. It had seemed... disrespectful for some reason.

Guilt, he thought now. Guilt had left him feeling unworthy of pleasure. Guilt had caused him to button himself up and gird himself like a monk.

To ease the transition there had been potions to allow him relief from unwanted erections, potions to lessen his libido. Within a short period of time, his body adjusted to this new state of affairs and ceased to trouble him, although he had still experienced the occasional wet dream. It was, he knew, the body's mechanism for ridding itself of the semen the prostate continually created. Simple mechanics — back pressure created tension, necessitating the letting off of steam, or in this case, spunk to ease the pressure and keep the system functioning normally.

He waved his wand to clean up the sticky mess and considered the canopy of his bed. The bright velvet green soothed him in some ineffable way. His house. Slytherin.

Harry's eyes.

Snape grimaced as his cock gave a hopeful twitch.

Harry had his mother's eyes. Framing that face that too closely resembled his school nemesis, his eyes reflected his every emotion, much as Severus's own hid his.

He recalled the dream now and felt his cock jerking to full readiness once again.

Was it the eyes? Or was it the boy behind the eyes?

Snape had no idea.

He had no experience either way, aside from blue movies he had crept into as a curious youth to view in the dark, cramped theatres where other curious youths and needy older men gathered to satisfy their lust. He had merely satisfied his curiosity, watching both heterosexual and homosexual films, and, as it turned out, been able to use even this in his fight against the Dark Lord.

He had led the Dark Lord to believe he had been interested in Lily, he recalled now, but it had been in an attempt to save her. She was married, after all.

Then he had been teaching, ignoring his body's sexual needs. When the Dark Lord returned he had assured him he had moved on, had tried liaisons with other women who had proven satisfying, and even with men to assuage his curiosity. Snape's Occlumency was superb. His Legilimency strong enough to provide false snippets of memories from those same Muggle films he had watched as a youth. Voldemort had been convinced and Snape had retained his integrity, as well as his secret.

This led him to now, a 38 year-old virgin in the body of a 16 year old randy young lad. A 16 year-old whose bollocks were beginning to feel tender and achy.

Snape sighed. He reached down and slid his hand around his rigid length. He stared sightlessly up at his canopy and as he began to move his hand, he thought of the boy with green eyes.

'He really is beautiful.'

Hermione's comment roused Harry from his reverie. He had been gently stroking Prince's feathery head with his thumb, thinking of nothing in particular, the atmosphere of the Gryffindor Common Room a soothing, familiar refuge from troubled thoughts and concerns.

'He's a cranky old bird, but he's tough and reliable, aren't you boy?'

Prince gave a chirrupy sound and clicked his beak. Hermione smiled.

'Did you finish your Charms essay?'

Harry nodded absently. Without the distractions of Quidditch, danger, worry, or even Ginny, Harry had found it was almost disturbingly easy to complete his work in a timely fashion.

He glanced over to where the Head Girl sat with the Head Boy.

'Ginny's gotten awfully close with Neville, hasn't she?'

Harry nodded. 'Well, they work together. They worked together all last year, along with Luna, to fight the Death Eaters.'

Hermione nodded. 'Then Luna was kidnapped.'

Harry grimaced and sighed. 'Yes. I, uh, know where you're going with this Hermione, and honestly, it's all right. I already worked it out for myself.'

She sat now and frowned at him. 'Worked what out?'

'Ginny. Neville. They like each other. They worked well together. It's been a strain between us since I got back. I hardly know what to say to her or her to me. She's like a whole different person now. She grew up and I wasn't there to see it. And I really am a different person now. No more Voldemort, out there or in here,' he tapped his forehead.

She sighed and then put her hand on his arm and squeezed. 'I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know.'

'I thought that's what you had come to talk to me about.'

She smiled. 'No. I was just wondering if you'd done your homework.'

He smiled back. 'Same old Hermione. Where would I be without you?'

She blushed. 'Well, probably riding that train with still-broken specs. But then, after that troll first year, if it hadn't been for you and Ron, I might be sharing a bathroom stall with Myrtle.'

'Oh, you'd have worked out some way to get out of that,' he insisted. 'Brightest witch of our generation, you are.'

'Oh, pish.' She sat closer now and put her head on his shoulder. 'You just say that so I do your assignments.'

'Not now. They're all done. I said it because it's true.' He put his arm around her and she leaned in closer. His voice grew soft. 'You're the most amazing witch I've ever known, Hermione. You should know that.'

She sighed. 'Not amazing. Just well read.'

'Say what you like, I know what I know.'

She giggled a bit at this and he smiled, relaxing, as she also relaxed into his side and they watched the fire crackling before them in peaceful silence.

He could feel that gaze on him and finally sighed. 'What?'

Lily's voice was intractable. 'You lied.'

'I did not!'

Lily stopped in her tracks and focused her gaze on him.

'I heard James. He said you messed up their plans the other night. You told me you weren't hurt, but I heard him say Madam Pomfrey had wanted to send you to St Mungo's!'

Snape swallowed. 'It was nothing. She was wrong. I was fine.'

'Severus,' Lily's expression changed to one of concern and she lifted a hand up to touch his face. 'If they hurt you, I want to know. I'm your friend.'

He shook his head. 'I'm fine, Lils.'

Her gaze grew sad. 'That's what you used to say after you and your father 'quarreled.''

He felt his stomach twist in memory and swallowed again. 'Lily. I swear they didn't hurt me.'

She studied his gaze for a long time and finally nodded, before pulling her hand away. Then she smiled.

'You need a shave.'

He grew red and touched his chin. She was right.

'I don't have my own razor. Avery lets me borrow his, but I have to do his Astronomy essays in exchange,' he recalled now, although he also wondered why he hadn't simply Transfigured himself a razor. The boy he'd been did not have that particular skill, but the man did.

'Why don't you ask Professor Flitwick to show you a Shaving Charm?'

'That's not my best subject,' he reminded her.

'Well, it feels odd, but nice,' she finally essayed.

'It does?'

She stopped again and took his hand in hers. 'Come here.'

He frowned but drew closer and then stooped a bit as she pulled on his hand. To his chagrin, she moved her face until their cheeks were touching, and then rubbed them together.

'I was right. It feels quite nice,' she said with a smile as she let him go.

He felt like his face was on fire now, and he was not sure what to do or say.

'You're blushing.'

This, of course, made his face grow even hotter and he looked away. They were halfway to Hogsmeade and the road was silent. There was no one in sight and he was relieved.

Then he felt her hand on his face again, and when he turned back to look at her, she was too close and his lips brushed hers and she moved in to deepen the contact, slipping her hand behind his neck to kiss him properly.

'Lils!'

He pulled free, torn with conflicting feelings and a sense of impending doom. The kiss had been lovely, tender and sweet, but he could not recall her ever having done that before, which meant he was changing what should not be changed.

She looked a bit sheepish, but proud, and he fought down his panic to give her an uncertain smile.

'Surprised you, didn't I?'

He nodded. 'What was that for?'

She lifted a brow. 'For? I didn't think it had to be for anything. Except maybe you're my best friend. And I felt like kissing you.'

His stomach twisted again and he swallowed hard. 'Lils.'

It was for her, for her son, that he had given everything. It might even be possible that it was for her son he had been sent back in time and...

His sharp mind suddenly screeched to a halt. He remembered now another conversation with Lily. She had called James an arrogant toe rag.

Then a short time later they were dating. But how could that be?

He could not remember any particular incident that would make such conflicting memories mesh, but there had to be. This meant, he realised now, that he was probably meant to set it in motion.

This was what he came back for. He felt the truth of it now, in the pit of his stomach.

The thought repulsed him. Seeing his best friend free of the arrogant berk would be a relief, but then... there would be no Harry. He felt himself go cold.

'Severus. Did I... bother you?'

He blinked now to look into those clear green eyes. They were the same beautiful eyes as her son's. The son he had been dreaming about.

The son that had to be.

'No.' He shook his head and smiled at her warmly, which she returned. 'But I think we'd better get going before it starts to rain.'

Then he took her hand in his and hurried them along the road.

Harry was grinning as he sat back in what was becoming his favourite class this year and watched Silus lecturing.

The man could not seem to sit still as he talked, walking back and forth before the class and sometimes down the aisles. He forced participation by calling on pupils at random, so no one particular person was answering all the questions and he was sure that all of them were listening.

'So if you're injured, unconscious, and you have no identification and have lost your wand, or can't tell the Muggles it's not just a stick to be discarded, but your personal property, then you'll be taken where, Mr Finnegan?'

'Hospital?'

'Right. And in the hospital, who will treat you, Miss Bones?'

'A dock-or?'

'Doctor. Very close, Miss Bones. A doctor will diagnose you, but who will tend you, Mr Corner?'

'A buxom nurse with curvy hips and a willing smile,' Michael said with a knowing grin.

'Only if we're lucky, Mr Corner,' Silus replied as the class laughed. 'And if we're male... and straight. Or female and of the right persuasion.'

Some of the class frowned in confusion at this and some gasped or their eyes widened. Harry was surprised, but delighted. They were nearly all of age, after all — why not discuss real life issues that would affect them all?

'Straight?' Corner looked utterly gormless.

'Straight. A Muggle term for heterosexual, Mr Corner. And who can tell me the Muggle term for homosexual?'

The class was silent as a frightened mouse and finally Harry sighed and lifted his hand. Silus lifted a brow in surprise.

'Yes, Mr Potter?'

'Gay. Or Queer.'

'Yes, and there are other not so nice terms. Poof, poofter, nancy boy, shirt lifter, pillow biter, and various others I shan't expand on. Suffice it to say, there are many, many negative terms for homosexuality but none for heterosexuality,' Silus looked around the silent room. 'Shocked the lot of you, eh? Well, it's just one of the things you should learn about the culture you have to live side by side with. The Muggles reckon 1 out of every 10 persons are gay or queer or in the case of women... who can tell me the Muggle slang for a female homosexual? It's very old.'

This time Denis Creevey lifted his hesitant hand. 'A lesbian, Professor?'

'Yes, indeed. And fifteen points to who can tell me the origin of that term.'

Seamus lifted his hand. 'It's from the Isle of Lesbos. An island of nothing but women.'

'You're confusing Lesbos with the legends of the Amazons, Mr Finnegan, but you are right about the Isle of Lesbos. It was the birthplace of Sapphos, who wrote love poetry dedicated to the beauty of women,' Silus intoned, adding, 'The Amazons were a race of female warriors. The term itself a-mazos is from the Greek meaning "without breast." I'll give fifty points to anyone who can tell me why they would name a tribe of female warriors that way.'

'Well, I don't know,' Seamus said. 'But the Isle of Lesbos is a blue movie me Da took me to see this summer. It was about an island of nothing but bare-breasted women.'

'Sounds like heaven,' mused Michael Corner with a cheeky grin. Harry rolled his eyes as the class tittered and Silus shook his head with forbearing amusement.

'I remember something about this,' Harry said now, after the chortling had died down. 'It was in a book. Something about these women warriors cutting off their breast so they could more easily draw a bow.'

'Correct, and fifty points to Gryffindor,' Silus enthused with a smile. The sight of a young Snape smiling still made some of the students start a bit. He seemed not to notice, black eyes fixed on Harry.

The bell rang indicating end of class and the students groaned. Silus's smile grew. Students reluctant to leave meant students who were genuinely curious about their subject and who would study out of interest rather than requirement. He remembered that much from his early years in Muggle school before his mother took over his education.

'Remember, read chapters seven and eight and fill in the definitions to the terms on page 144. Dismissed.'

The class began to file out and then Silus called out, 'Harry. A word?'

Harry turned back and leaned against the desk. 'Yes, Professor?'

'I noted Hermione wasn't in attendance and being such good friends, I wondered if you might know where she is.'

He smiled. 'There was a bit of a problem with her parents. She had to go sort it out. You see, they had their memories modified and as she's the one who did it...'

'Sounds complicated. She'll be back for next class I take it?'

'Yes, sir. She'll be back by tomorrow. I got her Patronus before lunch.'

'Patronus?'

'Oh, sorry, sir. A Patronus is a sort of, well, guardian spirit. It will protect you from dark influences, particularly useful against Dementors. You can also use them to send messages to people. Since no one's Patronus is exactly the same, and when it's imbued with your magic to send a message the person can verify if it really is from you or not, they're invaluable as messengers.'

'If you can use this Patronus thing, then why owls? To carry things, I suppose?'

'Well, yes, sir, but it's also that not everyone can conjure a Patronus. It takes a great deal of magical energy, plus a truly powerful happy memory.'

'How's that? This is one form of magic that Mum never mentioned.'

'She might not have known or been taught. It's NEWT level magic and not everyone learns it. It's like becoming an Animagus. It's advanced magic and not everyone applies themselves to its study.'

'I see. But you and Miss Granger did.'

'Well, I sort of had to. The Dementors kept trying to attack me my third year. I had to learn to fight back. Whatever I learnt, Ron and Hermione also tended to learn.'

'Third year? You learnt NEWT level magic your third year?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Oh, please. I'm tired of all the Professors and sirs. I'm Silus.'

'It's against school rules, sir.'

'Is that so? Well, I won't tell if you won't.'

'All right. Silus.'

'Good.' Harry got a smile for his trouble, one that made his stomach feel a bit squirmy. Still, he smiled back. 'Now I trust you'll give Miss Granger the assignment for today and let her copy your notes?'

'Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Silus. I will.'

'That will be all then.' Silus gave him an easy grin and Harry fought to keep from gulping as he nodded and headed out of the classroom.

It felt so strange to see a grinning Snape. At the same time, it also felt right, just like befriending Silus did.

The thought that he had never seen Severus smile in real life, only once in the memories he'd bestowed, however, was a cheerless one, and it remained with him for the rest of the day.

To Severus's chagrin, Lily sat closer to him than she'd ever sat before, practically in his lap in the small booth they shared at the Three Broomsticks.

'Are you cold?'

She frowned. 'No, it's been lovely out. Why?'

'Well, you're sitting awfully close. I thought maybe you were cold.'

She looked exasperated now. 'Can't I sit close? I thought we were friends?'

'We are,' he insisted. 'It's just...'

'Just what?'

He thought frantically for something to say and finally muttered, 'Well, I didn't have time for a bath this morning. I don't want to offend.'

Lily rolled her eyes. 'Oh, Sev. You're my oldest friend. I love you. Your smell doesn't offend me.'

'You love me?' Severus felt his heart plummet. The boy he had been would have given almost anything to hear those words from Lily, or indeed, from anyone who meant them sincerely, but now they were an impediment to his newfound mission.

'Of course. And I think you smell very nice.'

She sidled closer still and nuzzled his shoulder. Severus gulped. He lifted his butterbeer and quaffed it to cover his confusion and dismay.

'Sev?'

'Hm?'

'Do you think I smell nice?'

He looked down at the lustrous auburn strands, felt her slight figure against him and a surge of protectiveness nearly overwhelmed him.

'I think you smell very nice, Lils,' he said softly, putting his butterbeer down.

She looked up at him now and he swallowed at the expression in her eyes.

She wanted, he knew, to kiss him again, or for him to kiss her.

'Hey! Hands off my girl!'

He had never felt gladder to see James Potter in his entire life, which was, Severus felt, a most peculiar sensation in itself.

'I am not your girl, James Blowhard Potter.'

'Hey, she heard your nickname, Prongs,' Sirius joked knowingly.

'Stuff it, Padfoot,' James said easily.

'In which orifice would sir like it stuffed in?'

'Oh, you're both so disgusting!'

'Truly, she knows us well, Sir Potter.'

''Tis true, my good Sir Black. But not so well as I should like to get to know, Milady.' Potter bowed down low at the table, but ruined his gesture by flicking a glance at Severus and saying, sotto voce, 'Beat it, Snivellus. But go do it in the loo so you don't revolt anyone.'

Sirius howled at this, Severus sighed, but Lily grew incensed. Her wand was out before any of them knew what she was about.

'Gelus Aguamenti!'

The stream of icy water doused Black and Potter, even as she grabbed Severus's hand and made a run for it.

'Hey!'

But she did not run out of the tavern, which the two had been expecting. She ran to the fireplace where she grabbed Floo Powder, tossed it on the fire and rushed into it with Severus, saying 'Hogwarts! Infirmary!'

Severus had a second to wonder how she knew the Floo's were linked before the tavern dissolved into a swirl of brilliant, ashy green.

'And then I strapped on my kilt, painted my face blue and headed to the Highlands.'

'Mm.' Harry nodded absently, gently stroking Prince's feathered head.

'Earth to Harry.' Hermione snapped her fingers in his face and Prince squawked and flew off to land on the back of a chair as Harry blinked.

'What?'

'You've been miles away. What's going on?'

'Nothing. Really. Just... thinking.'

'Well, there's a first time for everything,' she joked. He smirked at her and she added, 'What is it on your mind?'

'Silus. Well, Severus, really, but—'

'Harry, do you realise that since he died, you've been referring to Professor Snape by his first name? You were never that close.'

'I know that Hermione, and I know why he kept me at arm's length now, but it seems so pointless to go on calling him Professor or Sir when he practically died in my arms and I've actually seen the most important bits of his life play out before me."

'Well, yes, but—'

'He died for me, Hermione. Do you know how that makes me feel?'

She looked around the Common Room, but no one else had heard his plaintive statement and she finally sat by him and took his hand.

'I know, Harry. I mean, not how you feel, but that his sacrifice was an awe-inspiring one. But it was for all of us. It was so Voldemort would be killed and so he would be able to avenge the death of your mother.'

'Through me.'

She drew in a breath, but nodded.

'I don't know how I feel about that, Hermione. I was Dumbledore's weapon, but I was also Snape's weapon. One of justice, the other of vengeance.'

'And while Dumbledore kept you at arm's length by keeping you in the dark, Snape kept you at arm's length by keeping you angry.'

Harry sighed and nodded and she finally moved closer and slipped her arm around him. He let his head lean against her shoulder, feeling a sense of loss, of grief, he could not resolve.

'Getting to know Silus is like seeing how Snape might have been if he'd had a happier childhood.'

She nodded.

'Silus doesn't hide anything. Severus hid everything.'

'He had to, Harry.'

The silence was long before he spoke, so softly she almost didn't hear him despite their proximity.

'Lately, I can't help but wonder how he really felt.'

Hermione looked pensive, but kept her silence, merely holding Harry until they both fell asleep.

'Mr Snape? What are you doing here? Why did you come through my Floo?'

Pomfrey hadn't noticed Lily yet, as she had instantly fallen as soon as she'd arrived.

'I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey. I was in a bit of a hurry,' he said lamely.

Lily suddenly stood, groaning and holding her forearm.

'It was me, Madam Pomfrey,' she said now, taking Severus's lead. 'I fell, you see, and hurt my wrist in Hogsmeade and he wanted to get me to you faster than we could get here walking.'

The mediwitch pulled out her wand and approached, focused now on a possible patient.

'Let me see. Oh, yes. Well, it's not broken, but it does appear to be sprained and bruised, Miss Evans.' She nodded approvingly at Severus. 'You did well bringing her straight here, Mr Snape. The walk back would have caused it to swell and become most painful.'

He nodded, and looked at Lily who gave him a big conspiratorial smile which filled him, for the first time, with trepidation rather than hope.

The sensation was warm and delicious and Harry smiled lazily as his jaw was gently sucked and licked.

His cock was already hard and every time he shifted his hips it pressed against his trousers and made him want to moan.

The warm, wet mouth moved along his jaw to his ear, which was gently bitten, then sucked.

He gave up fighting his moans, pushing his hips out now, wanting pressure there, where it ached.

Then that mouth moved down from his ear to his larynx, where it licked and sucked that sensitive skin.

'Mm...' he gave himself up to the sensations of his dream.

His dream lover was aggressive, taking and giving, and he longed to do the same, to take and to give.

Then a warm hand slid to his throbbing cock and began to expertly massage him. His moans grew louder as that hand demonstrated it knew what it was about.

Ginny had never touched him this way. He wasn't sure any girl could. Only a bloke knew what a bloke really liked.

Harry smiled now as he realised he was dreaming of a man, dreaming of that man giving him the answer to the question he'd fallen asleep with on his mind.

He'd been wondering how Snape really felt, now he was having a fabulous dream that showed him.

'Oh, Severus...'

He pushed up into that knowing hand, and even as he began to spunk, Harry woke moaning out his pleasure, the orgasm more intense than any he'd ever experienced.

'Severus?'

He blinked, surprised to hear Hermione's voice.

'What?'

He focused and found they were still in front of the almost dead fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was well after midnight. They had fallen asleep in front of it and...

'Oh, God.' He looked stricken, but not more so than Hermione. 'I... I thought it was a dream.'

'You dream of Snape?'

'Sometimes. Well, never like this, but...'

'You fall asleep in my arms and you dream of Severus Snape?'

Harry winced, squirming, then winced again at the feeling of cooling spunk congealing in his pants.

'Oh, God.' He closed his eyes, mortified.

'He's the right one to call on, if you think you have a prayer's chance of explaining this one, Harry,' she said, with equal parts acerbity and amusement.

He thunked his head back on the couch and groaned.

They had seen how Lily was looking at him. Their having escaped would ensure the two would be on the lookout for opportunities to harass and humiliate him. But how could he get that to work in his favour?

James Potter was a pillock, but he had also fathered one Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the powerful, talented wizard Severus found himself having fallen for, sometime after dying for him.

He loved Lily dearly. She was his closest friend, but he had to make her lose interest in him, to make her think him a hopeless lout not worth the bother of her attention, to make her see the potential in James Potter.

Severus felt ill.

Still, without James Potter there was no Harry Potter and Severus Snape could not even let himself think of a world without Harry Potter.

Yet it seemed hopeless to him. The only thing he could think of that would dissuade Lily would be something she found unforgivable, like the use of Dark Magic.

He recalled now his debt to Mulciber and suddenly smiled.

'It's really not so shocking now that I think about it.'

'Hermione. I thought we weren't going to discuss this.'

She lifted a brow. 'You said you didn't want to discuss it, but I never agreed.'

He groaned and cast Muffliato so no one else in the library would overhear.

'What would you like me to say? I'm sorry? I am. I wish it hadn't happened, but... well, a bloke can't help what he dreams about, okay?'

'Have dreams of men often, do you?'

'I read it was normal for a bloke to dream of other blokes when he's going through puberty. I am just 18 you know.'

'Oh, Harry, it is normal, but you dreamt of a man who tormented you and seemed to despise you.'

'The operative word there is "seemed," Hermione. He seemed to. He had to make me believe that. Who knows how he really felt?'

She fell silent at this, and then finally asked pointedly, 'Do you even know if you're gay?'

He sighed. 'No. I don't know. I've only been snogging girls because they ask me to. What do you think?'

'Well, I have to admit, Ron and I were wondering that back Fourth term.'

'You thought I was gay Fourth term?'

'Well, you were going on about Cedric when you weren't mooning after Cho.'

'Yeah, but I never kissed Cedric.'

'True, but your description of kissing Cho wasn't exactly the stuff of romance, either.'

He frowned.

'Then there's our Sixth year and your obsession with Draco Malfoy.'

'I was not obsessed with Draco Malfoy!'

'You were following him everywhere, even into the bloody loo where you hexed him, Harry.'

'And does that sound like love to you?'

'No, it sounds like obsession. Which leads to the Half-Blood Prince. You practically slept with that book by your side. You couldn't get enough of him and his advice.'

'Yes, well, he helped me through Potions, didn't he?'

'And led you to trying Dark Magic.'

'Well, it worked, didn't it?'

'You could have killed Draco, Harry.'

'And he could have killed me, Hermione. I say we're even.'

'And you were furious when I suggested he might be a girl.'

'Because I knew that he wasn't.'

'Yes. You thought he was clever and brilliant—'

'He was!'

'And you kept that book by your side at all times. Ron even said you slept with it under your pillow.'

Harry reddened. 'Well, Ron's a nosy pillock.'

'Ron's the kindest, sunniest fellow that walked the Earth, Harry, but observant he's not. And even he noticed your obsession with the Half-Blood Prince.'

'All right. So maybe I was obsessed with him. What of it? He's gone, isn't he? So what does it matter? Even if I loved him it wouldn't matter one whit, because he's dead!' Harry's voice broke and he looked away. 'Oh, God, Hermione. It keeps coming back to that. He's dead. And there's nothing I can do.'

Hermione nodded and stepped up to place a warm hand on his shoulder. Harry didn't stop her when she led them to the end of the stack they were in toward a dim corner. He said nothing as she cast a Notice-Me-Not spell around them, as well as a Silencing charm, merely sitting heavily and watching her.

She sat by him when she was done and took his hand in both of hers. His eyes were bright, and his voice trembled.

'He died for me, Hermione. He was brilliant and witty and clever and strong and brave and he sodding well died because I was more important than his life. He died for me because I reminded him of my mother, because he loved her and I was all that is left of her.'

'Yes,' she nodded at this before continuing carefully, 'He clearly cared for her, but what I see is that he loved you, Harry.'

He looked up at this and she said gently, 'What you've described, Harry, is the oldest and most powerful act of love.'

When he merely frowned, she intoned, 'Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for another.'

'He loved me.'

She nodded. 'Yes, Unequivocally. As much as your mother. He could never write it down or tell you outright. He could never show you, not until the very end. He might even deny it were you to ask, but with his last and final act, he proved it beyond all doubt.'

For some reason, her statement did not make him feel despair.

For the first time since the end of the war, Harry felt a sense of contentedness, even of hope and he was glad of it; to carry on feeling as if there was nothing to be gleaned after all the death he had endured had been an unbearable burden. He had not even realised he carried this burden.

He looked over to his closest, dearest friend in the world and brought her hand to his, kissing it.

'I love you, Hermione,' he said simply. 'You're the sister I should have had if my parents had lived long enough.'

She smiled back at him, a radiant expression. 'I love you, too, Harry. No matter what. Always.'

'Always.'

He enfolded her in his arms, then, and she held him back just as tightly, until their heart beats synchronised and the bittersweet ache faded from them both.

'James is an arrogant prig... a toe rag. We both know it, but your Slytherin friends, Severus... Mulciber and Avery... they're evil. I don't see how you can be friends with them after what that creepy boy almost did to Mary.'

Severus felt relieved. She had cast him in the same light as Mulciber and Avery, as being evil and nasty. This plan of his might work if she kept seeing him in this manner.

'Who would you have me be friends with then,' he insisted. 'They're in my House. I share a dorm with them. Would you have me be totally friendless except for you?'

He added emphasis on the last word and was privately thrilled as her angry gaze turned sharply on him.

'Oh, so I'm not good enough to be your friend?'

He sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. 'Lils. That's not what I said.'

'It's what it sounded like,' she pouted.

'Look, I don't have time for this. I have to study for our OWLs, remember? We take them tomorrow?'

She looked mutinous, but finally nodded. 'All right, but this isn't over.'

'I'm sure I'll be hearing about it all summer long,' he muttered.

She glared at him, and then huffed past him down the courtyard.

His pleased smile would have surprised her, but Lily Evans never once looked back.

'So she became a card reader?'

Silus lifted a brow. 'What's so surprising about that? All those years with my father left her with very little magic ability. She used to swear it was why I was born a Squib. Herbology and Divination are two areas where Muggle and Magical worlds can meet. A lot of Muggles believe in Divination. A lot of Muggles use herbal cures. The names may be a bit different, the cards may not move in the Muggle world, but a Muggle believer will still pay for a card reading. Enough so she could earn a tidy living, something my father never let her do.'

Harry nodded, remembering the shadowy figure that a small, skinny boy had cowered away from in his memories of Snape.

'It's just Severus, your brother, that is, he never put much stock in Divination. He used to look down on Professor Trelawney.'

'Weren't she the one that gave that prophecy that damn near doomed you?'

Harry nodded.

'Sounds to me more that he didn't like her for having been right, not that he didn't believe she was,' Silus pointed out.

'I hadn't thought of it that way.'

'Oh, aye. I might never have met him, but I like to think I know how he'd think. We're from the same stock he and I, after all.'

Harry considered this and finally admitted, 'You look so much like him, Silus. Except for being younger, of course. But you have the exact same features. You're the same height, have the same colour hair and eyes. Well, your skin is a bit darker than his was.'

'He took after Mum sounds like. She were right fair. Our father had darker skin.'

'I saw a picture of her once. You both have her face, long bones, and thin build.'

'And our father's nose, more's the pity,' he said with a sigh, more bemused than dissatisfied.

'I like it,' Harry contended. 'It's got character.'

'It's a ruddy bogey cave more like.'

Harry snorted amusement. After a moment, he sighed.

'What is it, lad?'

'Your brother. I like to think he had a sense of humour, but he kept it hidden. What you said, it reminded me of something I think he might have said if.... well, if we'd got on, if we'd been friends.'

Silus sat back.

'All this time I thought you were friends. You sound like you respected him.'

'I did, but I didn't always show it.'

'Fair dos.' Silus sighed. 'Well, look at the time. You should get to dinner and I need to get these papers graded.'

Harry smiled and nodded, 'See you, Silus.'

The warm expression in the black eyes made him swallow, even as the fond smile made him respond in kind.

'See you, Harry.'

'I wouldn't go out with you, James Potter, if it was a choice between you and the giant squid!'

Snape's heart fell. She had not only defended him, but she was angrier at Potter now than before. He would have to up the ante. He used a minor slicing hex on Potter, knowing Black or Pettigrew were likely to retaliate. Perhaps he should have used a Dark Magic curse?

Before he could think over his options, he found himself hoicked up by an ankle, his robes falling about him, his tattered underpants on display for half the school. Oh, bloody hell!

'Let him down!'

Wonderful, he mused. Now she's gone back to defending me. What the buggering arse do I have to do to make her forget about me?

He fell hard and was standing up, about to use a good dark curse against the supercilious little sod, when Black cast Petrificus and he fell again. Do none of them see she will only get angrier if they keep attacking? They must have the brains of a half a goose between them.

Then, as if on cue, he heard Lily: 'Leave him alone!'

He ignored their exchange, struggling to release himself from the Petrificus and heard her insisting they remove the curse. Suddenly he felt himself freed and sighed with heavy regret, knowing, and hating what he would have to do.

'You're lucky she was here, Snivellus—'

He drew on all the feelings he had for his father and spat out, 'I don't need help from a filthy little Mudblood!'

Severus could see the change in her instantly, the loss of regard, the deep hurt, and it hurt him, too, but he also felt huge relief.

Whatever else was said, he did not really hear, focused on Lily, his closest, dearest friend in the world, soon retreating into the distance. Good-bye, Lils.

Then he was hoist back into the air, his aged, barely serviceable pants on display once again.

He heard Potter asking the gathered crowd if he should depants him and waited for the inevitable humiliation, but another voice intruded before he felt the whisk of magic that would take what little remaining dignity he held.

'Put that boy down this instant!'

McGonagall. Despite himself, Snape felt relieved.

'Twenty points from Gryffindor for your shameful behaviour!'

'But Professor, he called Lily Evans a Mudblood.'

'Five points for repeating such a foul term, Mr Black, and five points from you, Mr Lupin, for standing idly by instead of putting a stop to this hooliganism. Are you a prefect or aren't you? Now the rest of you, move along. This isn't a stage play. I'm ashamed of the lot of you.'

As he stood and retrieved his wand, she stepped up and then used her wand to remove dirt, leaves and grass from his robes.

'Thank you, Professor McGonagall,' he said sincerely.

'Ten points from Slytherin, Mr Snape, for creating such a ruckus. Now, as it happens, you are the very person I was hoping to find. Come with me, please.'

'He really is quite a good teacher, isn't he?'

'It's my favourite class,' Harry admitted.

'Yes, well, how much of that is because you like him,' she teased.

Harry reddened. 'Hey, I like Professor Flitwick and Professor Firenze and McGonagall.'

'I'm just teasing you, Harry.'

He rolled his eyes at this and then shivered and took his wand out, casting a Warming Charm over his jumper and scarf, and then on himself.

'I forgot my coat in the Common Room,' he grumbled, annoyed at his carelessness.

'It's hard to believe the holidays are nearly here,' she said, putting her own hands into her jacket pockets.

'Yeah, first one since...' his voice trailed off as they stepped off the courtyard onto the lawns and could see the white tomb in the distance. A smaller, black tomb was next to it.

Hermione put an arm around him as they both became lost in thought, remembering the day it had been emplaced.

'Say,' he said now. 'Do you recall what Silus said?'

She frowned, trying to recall. 'Something about the wand he put in the casket belonging to Snape's mother.'

'Yeah, but what happened to his own? Aren't wizards buried with their wands?'

She nodded. 'Yes, if they can find them. But didn't Voldemort take Snape's wand?'

Harry frowned, trying to recall that day. 'I don't remember. Maybe.'

'Well, it doesn't matter now. It's no good to him wherever it is.'

Harry nodded, ruefully admitting Hermione was right.

'It is time, dear boy, to get you back to whence you came.'

Snape looked from McGonagall to Dumbledore. 'You mean—'

'Your younger self is starting to rouse,' Minerva replied. 'Madam Pomfrey said he'll be waking in a few hours time. Hence, our dilemma.'

'I understand. But how am I to return? I don't even know what brought me here.'

The Headmaster pursed his lips, and then looked at McGonagall. 'I'll let you explain, my dear.'

She nodded and then, to Snape's surprise, conjured a high-backed chair to sit before him. She reached beneath her collar and withdrew a very familiar-looking device.

'That's a Time-Turner.'

'You've seen one?'

He nodded, eyes still on the delicate gold mechanism. 'Yes, you—'

'Silence.' He blinked at her imperious tone and she sighed. 'It is vital I learn nothing of my future self. You can see why.'

He nodded carefully.

'I do this with no small amount of trepidation, but there cannot be two Severus Snape's in this time. You must return to whence you came.'

He nodded again, but merely said, 'I thought Time-Turners couldn't move a person forward, only back, in time.'

She smiled. 'Severus Snape. I wasn't always a professor here. Before accepting Headmaster Dumbledore's offer of employment, I used to work for the Ministry. I headed the Department of Mysteries.'

His eyes widened, then he grinned. 'You wicked old cat.'

'I shall take that as a compliment, as well as indication of a long friendship, one I am sure I shall enjoy discovering for myself as time goes by.' Her own smile grew warm. 'And I trust I needn't bother explaining that sometimes not all is revealed for the good of the public or public perception, shall we say?

He shook his head, then eyed the device in his hand, feeling a sense of growing hope. He sighed his relief, and then looked back to Dumbledore who watched them as he stroked Fawkes's head with a gentle finger.

'Sir. What of my memories? My younger self won't have them.'

'And you don't need them,' Dumbledore agreed. 'After all, your younger self will carry them forward for you both. So you will leave them here in his safe keeping.'

Snape nodded. 'Very well.'

'Severus,' Albus stood. 'I look forward to our future acquaintance, as well. You have proven a fascinating enigma.'

'Thank you, sir. But, if I might,' he paused before continuing. 'I'm aware of the ramifications of what I say, but... do not show me kindness when I come to you for help in future. You will know the moment. If you do, I won't believe it and it could well backfire.'

Albus looked grave. 'It sounds most unlike me to be unkind to someone in need of help.'

Severus grimaced. 'It did to me, as well, and yet it also helped me accept what help you offered. I cannot explain. Just please. For the sake of a very long friendship.'

'Again, one I look forward to experiencing, my boy.' He held out his hand.

Severus shook it in his, struggling to hold back his emotions as he noted the strong grip and healthy skin on that yet-to-be-crippled and cursed appendage.

Harry shook his head.

'I don't mind. Why should I?'

Neville's genial features twisted a bit, before he admitted. 'Well, I know you've been hanging around with Hermione, but—'

Harry lifted a hand. 'She's my best friend, Neville. I'd be honoured if she were interested, but frankly, I think she's still getting over Ron.'

'Is he still seeing that Gabrielle?'

Harry nodded. 'Since they're both going to be at the Burrow, she's staying here. And so am I.'

'Oh, I wouldn't want to keep you from the Burrow for the holidays, Harry!'

'You're not. I love the Weasleys and they'll always be like family, but this year, I'm staying here. Hogwarts is my home. It always has been.'

Neville nodded. 'All right then. I just wanted to make sure about Ginny and all. I mean, if you wanted her, no one could stop you, and I won't get in the way if you still do.'

Harry shook his head. 'Really, Neville, it's up to Ginny and she seems happy with her choice. You're a good man. I'm glad for you both.'

Neville beamed. 'Well, then. Happy Christmas.'

'Happy Christmas, Neville.'

They had clasped hands and then Harry had pulled him closer for a manly pat on the back which Neville copied, before breaking apart and heading in their separate directions.

Severus gently tugged the memories out and carefully tapped them into his unconscious younger self, following the instructions Albus gave, step by step.

Afterward, he felt curiously blank, but calm.

'How do you feel, my boy?'

'Odd. A bit... blank, but also expectant.'

'That's good. You'll sort it out when you return.'

He looked once more to his younger self, then back up at Dumbledore.

'What will you tell him?'

Albus smiled. 'You'll remember that for yourself on your return, my boy.'

'Are you okay, Harry, you seem a bit flushed?'

'Just too close to the fire, is all,' he insisted, ignoring the heat he felt licking along his cheeks. He hoped he hadn't caught a cold; it would be annoying to spend even part of the holiday sneezing & sniffling. 'So are you done with all the assigned work then?'

She rolled her eyes. 'The hols just barely started, Harry.'

'Well, I know you,' he teased, ignoring a dizzy sensation. 'You're probably halfway through the rest of the year's material.'

She mock-swatted at him, then frowned.

'What?'

She put her hand to his head, even as he fought another wave of dizziness.

'Harry, you're burning up.'

It was the last thing he heard before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed at her feet.

Minerva bade him read a page of instructions as regarded the Time-Turner, in her presence, so she could be sure he had and to answer any of his questions. He had done so with only mild difficulty, and that with the fact his sleeve kept falling down and obscuring the use of his hand.

He had put on the clothes he'd arrived wearing, in preparation for his return to his old self and proper time. They still didn't fit, but then he hadn't finished growing until his 19th summer, and he didn't fill in properly until his mid-20's, as he recalled.

Now all he asked was, 'When should I return?'

'You will know, lad. I cannot interfere.'

He frowned at this cryptic reply, but did not complain.

'I, um... I appreciate this, Minerva.'

She did not complain about his use of her first name. She merely nodded.

'Are you staying?'

She nodded again and he looked one more time around the dingy room in the Shrieking Shack. This was where he had nearly died, and had, in fact, died once before. Or once to come.

He sighed and then he carefully put the chain of the Time-Turner around his head and studied the controls. Forward, not back, so...

He turned the device upside down. He began to set it to return him to the moment he'd left, but paused.

Minerva McGonagall had allowed the Granger girl to use her Time-Turner in her Third year. She would need the device then. He had to return to the summer before that year.

Thus decided, he carefully calculated the amount of turns of both hourglass and outer bands, and then began to flip the hourglass anti-clockwise, gently turning the bands at the same time. He shut his eyes against the sudden blur of confusing imagery and constant flashing from day to night. He ignored the bursts of bitter cold and then stifling heat that spoke of seasons passing. He ignored everything but the pulse against his fingertips where he held the device, and waited for time to pass.

'It was encapsulated. Stayed in his system until it was activated. You say he was never treated for his snakebite?'

Hermione shook her head. 'We couldn't. It happened during that time we were both Undesirable #1 and 2, almost exactly a year ago. We had to stay in hiding. I did what I could at the time. He lost so much blood.'

The healer nodded, patting her arm soothingly. 'I'm sure you did all you could. You weren't to know this was a possibility.'

'You said it was activated,' Poppy said. 'By what?'

The healer looked from Hermione to Poppy, who waited on the other side of Harry's cot.

'Most likely a warming charm or possibly a heating hex. It required not just the heat, but the magic to reactivate.'

Hermione put her hands to her mouth. 'Oh, no! He used one a few days ago when he forgot his coat in the Common Room.'

'That was most likely it. It would take a few days for the level of infected venom to circulate.'

Poppy nodded. 'But what can be done?'

'Fever reduction potion, intestinal absorbents for the venom, I'd recommend ground charcoal from the Yew and bezoar powder, and if he worsens, anti-infectives and Strengthening Solution.'

Hermione swallowed as Slughorn quietly said, 'I'll start brewing some straight away, and get you that absorbent, Madam Pomfrey.'

'Thank you, Professor.'

There was silence as he left and the healer gathered her diagnostic tools from around Harry's bed and body. She packed them into her satchel, and then placed a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder.

'He's a strong young man. I'm sure he'll be fine, my dear.'

Hermione said nothing, merely nodded, taking Harry's hand in hers and perching on his bed.

'You can open your eyes, Severus.'

He did to find Minerva McGonagall smiling kindly at him. She was older he noted, and he smiled.

'It worked!'

Then he frowned, looking down. His clothes were still ill-fitting. His voice had still not gained the resonance it would by his 19th year.

'It did,' she assured him now. Then her smile grew compassionate. 'I knew it could return you, but it would not age you, my dear. I could not tell you that, however.'

'But..'

She shook her head. 'The agent that brought you back in time is as mysterious as the creation of these devices themselves. I do not know why you were de-aged, or if you will ever regain your proper age via magic. You may well have to live through those years again, but then, there are worse things than gaining two extra decades of life. All I could do was get you to this point.'

He nodded, then, setting aside the concern for more pressing matters.

'Minerva. You will need this.' He began to remove the Time-Turner and she shook her head, gainsaying him.

'No, dear. You need to return to whence you left.'

'But—'

She smiled at him and reached for her collar to pull out an identical device. He stared at it and her smile increased, growing enigmatic. 'There are certain advantages to having been the Head of the Department of Mysteries.'

'You clever old cat.'

'Thank you. Now get going, my lad. Time waits for no one.'

He rolled his eyes and lifted up the Time-Turner, turning it upside down once more.

'Is there no change then?'

Hermione shook her head, eyes never leaving Harry's flushed, sweaty face.

Silus sighed, and then moved a chair to sit on his other side.

'It's a raw night to be sitting here in the dark, lass.'

She sniffed. 'I'm fine.'

'You'll be catching your death of cold,' he disagreed, getting up.

Soon he returned with a blanket, but to her surprise, he set it in his chair and took off his own wrapping coat, putting it around her shoulders.

The warmth of it seeped into her and his scent filled her senses. Reminiscent of Severus Snape, who had smelt most often of whatever potion or potion ingredient he was working with, there was a rich, earthy smell that she found she appreciated.

'There now,' he said, sitting down again and wrapping the blanket around his own shoulders.

'Thank you.'

'Think nothing of it,' he sighed, studying the boy he had met just over half a year ago and who had fast become a good friend. 'It's always hard. Sitting vigil.'

She considered this. 'Have you? Sat vigil?'

He nodded. 'Oh, aye. For Mum. She had a bad bout of pneumonia one winter. None of my teas worked, although the poultices for her chest helped some. It weren't 'til the doctor found the right antibiotics to give her that she began to recover.'

Hermione nodded. 'I imagine that must have been odd to her.'

'Some. Not much. Once she lost most of her magic, and once she realised I were a Squib, I expect, she stopped fighting the Muggle way of doing things. She told me she got on better and felt happier then. She reckoned maybe it weren't such a tragedy, my being a Squib and all.'

'It isn't. It wasn't. You're a fine man, Silus Snape,' Hermione contended now, looking at him. 'And a kind one.'

He swallowed, and to her surprise, flushed a bit, before looking away and nodding. 'Thanks for that. I think you're the first person to ever say it.'

She smiled. 'I'm sure Harry would agree.'

'Oh, well. He's a fine lad.' He studied Harry's unconscious form for a while, before whispering, 'You hear that, lad? You'd best be waking soon. Your lass is pining for you here.'

'Silus!' Hermione blushed now herself, before shaking her head. 'I do love Harry dearly, but we're just good friends. He's not my boyfriend.'

'Oh.' Snape seemed taken aback, but then nodded. 'In that case, you'd still best be waking, Harry lad. Your friends are waiting to wish you a Happy Christmas and all.'

'Yes,' Hermione agreed, squeezing Harry's hand in hers. 'We are, Harry. We miss you.'

'Aye, lad. That we do.'

Silus stood then and placed a warm hand on Harry's forehead for a long moment, before shaking his head and pulling his hand back. He looked over to Hermione who looked up at him, all the worry reflected in her eyes.

His voice was whisper-soft in the dimness.

'He's a braw lad, lass. If anyone can fight through this and come back to us, it's Harry here.'

'Welcome, my lad.'

Severus opened his eyes to find Minerva before him. The smell of blood filled his nostrils and he glanced down to note the rather alarmingly large pool of it where he had lain.

'Merciful Merlin,' he breathed.

'Indeed. Now that you are back, Severus, I believe you have something of mine?'

She held out her hand and he removed the chain from around his neck and handed her the Time-Turner. Her aged hand closed around the delicate device and she sighed.

'Thank you, Severus.'

'Thank you, Minerva.'

'Not at all. I merely thank you for returning to our world the sole working Time-Turner in existence.'

He started at this, and then recalled that all the devices had been destroyed after Harry's fifth year, after the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries.

'You crafty old cat,' he blurted out now. 'I could have stayed back in 1993, but you wanted me to fetch this forward for you.'

She merely smiled and slipped the device around her neck. 'Suffice it to say, I appreciate your efforts.'

He pursed his lips and shook his head. 'Well, then. What to do? I'm still bloody well 16 years old. I can't be seen like this.'

She sighed and nodded. 'Indeed. But I believe there is a solution.'

Severus groaned. His head ached abominably and his vision was a bit blurry, but he remembered well enough what he'd last seen.

'Easy, my boy.'

'Headmaster!' His effort to sit up left him reeling and the warm hand patting his shoulder was comforting.

'I said easy, my boy. You're still on the mend.'

He lay back on the Infirmary bed and frowned. 'Headmaster... I saw what's in the Shrieking Shack. Sirius Black and James Potter led me there. It was a—'

'It was a fellow student, my boy. And it was your own folly that led to being in this bed. You should not have disregarded the protections I put in place for everyone's safety.'

'Everyone's safety? Lupin's a werewolf!'

'Yes, and worthy of the same right as any other boy to study magic at this school.'

'He could have killed me!'

'Yes, and he nearly did if it had not been for Mr Potter's timely actions. James Potter saved your life, Mr Snape. Of course, it would not have been necessary if Mr Black had not seen the situation as a particularly ill-advised means of pranking you, but he has been suitably punished for his deed.'

'He tried to kill me! He should be expelled,' Severus insisted.

Dumbledore sighed. 'That is out of the question. It would only serve to bring to light Mr Lupin's condition, which cannot be allowed.'

'He shouldn't be in the school with real people. He's a werewolf.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'Yes, many feel the way you do, which is why I decided on this experiment, in order to prove it is, indeed, possible for anyone to receive their education here.'

'Experiment? It nearly got me killed.'

'Severus, this is not the first time we have discussed this.'

'Headmaster?'

The man merely placed a Daily Prophet in Snape's hands and waited.

'June 18th?' He was flabbergasted. Two months had passed by!

'Yes. You do not recall anything from the incident to now?'

Severus shook his head, but then bits and pieces of events began to filter through his mind. Mulciber. Transfigurations. Lily. Gelus Aguamenti. Best friends. Mudblood...

His heart sank. Merlin. How could I have called her that?

'Some,' he finally said in a strangled voice.

The hand patted his shoulder. 'Rest easy, my boy. Madam Pomfrey assures me that memory gaps and confusion are not uncommon after a severe concussion of the sort you received back in April. In fact, it would not surprise me if you did not suffer other lapses in future. But you are young and strong and your poor injured head should heal and sort itself out by end of summer, I have no doubt.'

'Ah, you're awake.' Pomfrey bustled in with a potion in a glass. 'Drink up. It should help the disorientation.'

He obediently sipped at the solution, made a face, and then gulped the rest without breathing. 'Ugh.'

'Yes, well, it's medicine, not pumpkin juice. You should be good to go in a few moments, once that settles.' She took the glass, and then pointed a finger at him. 'Please try to avoid falling from any height, or even jumping, for the next few months. Any incident like that can re-aggravate your concussion, and I'm afraid with concussion there are continuing affects for weeks to come, as you proved today.'

He nodded, and she left. He frowned now as he recalled having been dropped not once, but twice by bloody James Potter earlier that afternoon. Then he almost depantsed me in front of half the ruddy school! He scowled.

'What is it, my boy?'

'Nothing, sir. It's just those Gryffindors. The same ones, Potter and Black. They keep hexing me and jinxing me and, well, like today. I was just walking near the lake, looking over the notes for my OWLs and they began to harass me.'

The Headmaster nodded. 'Professor McGonagall already informed me of the incident. They have been reprimanded, points taken and detentions issued.'

Snape nodded, feeling grateful for that much. 'Thank you, sir.'

'Not at all, my boy. It is you I came to thank, actually, for what caused your current condition in the first place. You see, your actions alerted me to a serious security breach which I have taken actions to remedy. Neither you nor any other student need fear on future full moon nights. Mr Lupin will be quite secure now, and there will be no more incidents of the kind that injured you two months ago.'

Snape sighed, feeling sullen and twitchy.

'Yes, sir,' he finally said. 'I appreciate your telling me.'

'Good. Then I'll leave you to your recovery.'

Dumbledore left and Severus tried to think around the headache he still had.

He needed to go to Lily, he thought now. He had to apologise.

How could he have said that to her?

More importantly, could she ever forgive him?

'Please, Harry. Everyone is worried about you,' Hermione pleaded as he turned his fevered head restlessly on his pillow. 'Please fight this.'

She could hear the quiet conversation across the room despite herself and tried unsuccessfully to shut it out of her mind.

'The infection seems to be setting in. He should be at St Mungo's.'

'There is nothing they could do that you and Horace are not already doing, Poppy. You've got all the reports they have from when Arthur Weasley was attacked.'

'For all the good it does. Arthur never developed this infection. His system was cleared of the poison from the start.'

'I know you're doing all you can, Poppy,' Minerva said soothingly. Then she sighed. 'Here he'll be with people who know and love him, at least... no matter what happens.'

There was a silence, during which Hermione bent over Harry's hand and let the tears fall silently.

She was startled when a warm hand covered hers atop of Harry's, and then Silus bent before her and lifted his other hand to gently wipe her face.

She slid forward then, and he moved closer to allow her to bury her face against his shoulder, before sliding his free arm around her even as she did the same to him.

She sobbed even as she drew comfort from his strength and warmth and the familiar smell of his coat she had not realised she had missed and which had somehow come to mean succour and security to her.

'Easy, lass. 'T'will be all right. You'll see.'

His deep soothing tones with their Northern influence lulled her, and she did not hear the Headmistress ask Poppy if she could see the records for herself, nor the mediwitch's response.

She only heard Silus crooning a soothing, wordless tune, and felt his warm hand rubbing her back, which somehow eased the ache all the way inside.

The log on the fire falling apart roused Severus from dozing.

He had been reading in his favourite chair, sipping at some elf-made wine and wondering how his colleagues were enjoying their holidays at Hogwarts. It was the first he'd spent alone since, well, ever.

He had been living at Spinner's End since his return; something Minerva assured him would be quite safe. She had brought him, cast Adjusting charms on all his clothing, accompanied him while he filled the larder to overflowing, given him funds to see him through the term and bade him to go nowhere save the express dairy for any perishable items as needed. She had also taken his wand, which was a wrench, but necessary since he was back in his right time, but still 16.

'Just in case. I've no idea if your using it would alert the Ministry. I'll bring it back on the 9th of January.'

He had conceded and thanked her for all her help and she had left him to the business of getting on with his new and rather different life. She had sent him Daily Prophets through the Floo each evening, and called on him a few times, but otherwise left him alone.

He was still 38 in his mind, but 16 in body and, whilst it shamed him to admit it, he had spent most of his days eating, sleeping and wanking.

This thought led to the inevitable rise and he was just starting to rub fingers along his trouser placket when the Floo flared green and he dropped the Prophet picture of Harry Potter he had been studying onto his lap.

Minerva's face was framed by green flame and he nodded, smiling at her.

'Happy Christmas, Minerva.'

'The same to you, Severus, but that's not why I'm here.'

He sat up straighter and she reached a hand out to him.

'I'm afraid you're needed, my boy, in your professional capacity. But first, there are some people that need be apprised of the situation.'

'So... you've been alive all this time?'

The Headmistress lifted a hand to stop Silus.

'I was fully aware, Silus, so you can blame me if you like, but Severus suffered an unexpected temporal accident after being attacked in the Shrieking Shack during the battle. He could tell no one of his existence after his return, until now.'

Hermione could not stop staring. Severus was so young, younger than her own self now. And still as dour as ever, she noted dryly as he scowled at everyone in the room.

'Temporal accident?'

She looked over to Silus at this, nodding. 'It means he—'

'I know what it means, lass,' he responded with a slight bite to his tone. 'I'm a Squib, but I'm a well-educated one. I'm just wondering what happened.'

'I'm not at liberty to say,' Severus admitted, staring at this paradoxically younger, as well as older, version of himself.

'I've heard enough about you since I was brought here, brother of mine. Is it that you can't? Or is that you won't?'

Severus sneered, but McGonagall interceded. 'It is both, and this is merely wasting time. I would not have informed any of you of his situation at all, if it were not for the fact that it was with Severus's help that Arthur Weasley was saved the last time that bloody great snake attacked. His expertise in the matter is invaluable, and very much needed, I fear, if we are to save Harry at all.'

At her words, his gaze fixed on the young man in the Infirmary bed and all thoughts of his brother, of his age and the mystery that had brought it about faded from Snape's mind.

'I'll need to read his medical chart.'

He heard the scrape of wood as the door to the lab opened, but he did not look over, keeping his attention on the distillation of simmered dittany he was collecting.

'I'm not interrupting?'

Severus stilled briefly, but did not pause in his actions. He merely shook his head.

'Well, good then. I came to see how you were getting on.'

'I am working, as you can see. As soon as I have anything concrete to relate, everyone pertinent will be apprised.'

His brother said nothing for so long Severus might have thought he'd left, except that he did not hear the door open or shut, so he merely kept working and not looking up or over.

'Pertinent? You think I've no business knowing.'

Severus studied the colour of the fluid he collected, and then added a dusting of charcoal to the mixture bubbling in the cauldron.

'That decision is up to the Headmistress and Madam Pomfrey. I have no say in the matter.'

'Oh, aye. But if you did, you'd say I had no say.'

'What I think is of little import here.'

'That's where you're wrong, Severus. I've not met you but four days ago, but I've heard tell of you for eight months now. You're feared and respected round here.'

Severus snorted.

''Tis true.'

'And I've been here naught but four days and I know you are well-regarded... especially by Miss Granger.'

'Does that bother you then? That she and I are—'

'Miss Granger is nineteen years old, well past the age of anyone telling her with whom she can or cannot consort.'

'God, but you sound prissy as a priest, despite being younger 'n me now! You must have been a right Tartar when you were your own proper age.'

Severus scowled, carefully letting go of his instruments before turning to face Silus.

'What,' he said past gritted teeth. 'Do you bloody well want?'

Silus seemed taken aback.

'You're my brother. You've been shut up down here for days. You don't even come up to eat. You're never in those rooms the Headmistress said were yours. How else am I to get to know you if I don't come down here?'

'Get to—' Severus looked exasperated. 'Does this seem like the right time for a warm family reunion?'

'Judging by your face it will never be the time.' Silus shrugged slightly, and then sighed. 'Sorry to bother you, Professor. I'll be out of your hair before the echo dies.'

He turned, but Severus cleared his throat. 'Silus.'

He paused, but did not turn back, merely waiting.

The silence was profound for several moments, broken only by the simmering of the cauldron and the slight crackle of the fire beneath it.

'It truly isn't a good time. I'll be busy for at least one more day before I might have anything of use in this situation. I... I appreciate your visit, but I would ask if we could not discuss our affiliation until after the crisis is over.'

'It can't be good,' Silus said after a moment. 'You not eating, not sleeping and working with this delicate equipment and noxious potions.'

Severus smiled. 'I'm a big boy, brother mine. I'm using potions that keep me alert and awake, the House Elves are bringing me sandwiches, cocoa and coffee as needed, and I've been working with some of this delicate equipment since before you were born.'

Silus turned around, a barely hidden smile on his so-familiar face.

'There's a cuppa and company anytime you need them, Severus. Know that.'

Severus sighed now, feeling oddly content despite his fatigue.

'I do. And the same can be said in exchange. Silus.'

That the potion worked as intended did not surprise Severus, although the nearly bone-crushing hug that Hermione gave him as Harry's fever receded, and he began to mumble and rouse from his long slumber, did.

'Oh, thank you, Professor! Thank you, thank you, thank you, so much!'

He calmly allowed her to blubber for a few moments before looking over to Silus and gesturing with his eyebrows.

His brother gently pulled her free. 'There now, lass, don't drip all over the man. Come drip on me, there's a good girl.'

Severus swallowed, glad no one was paying him further attention and that Hermione had not noticed the unexpected, but rapid erection he'd developed from her embrace.

Damnable hormones.

''Mione? Professor?'

Harry's weak enquiry led to a mild cheer going around the room. Minerva patted Harry's shoulder even as Hermione let go of Silus to take Harry's hand.

'There now, lad, you're back with us and praise Merlin.'

'No,' Hermione said staunchly. 'Praise Severus.'

Harry blinked tiredly up at her. 'Severus?'

'Indeed, Mr Potter,' Snape intoned from the foot of his bed where he marked the results of his days of hard work.

Harry's eyes widened as he took in Silus by Hermione, then Severus. 'Am I dead?'

'No, Mr Potter. The dead do not have impromptu hospital bed gatherings,' he retorted, setting the quill and chart down with a flourish. 'You are quite alive, and yes, your eyes are probably as well as they ever have been. I am as young as I appear to be. I am also, however improbably, alive.'

The gathered assemblage's laughter he expected. The pleased smile on Harry's face, he had not.

Despite Hermione's hug, Silus's handclasp, and the well-wishes from the rest, it was his face Harry seemed to continue to seek out. Almost as if he could not quite believe in his presence, which was likely, Severus conceded.

The fact Harry's smile only grew, as well as grew warmer and more content whenever he looked at him, could not, however, be so easily explained.

The fact his erection grew to painful proportions until he fled under cover of needing to see to his potions, was something Severus refused to bother even thinking about, much less trying to explain.

'That's amazing.' Harry's eyes were wide.

'Oh, aye,' Silus said thoughtfully.

'Truly,' agreed Hermione.

'And classified,' Minerva intoned meaningfully.

The group finally turned their gaze from Severus to the Headmistress, something for which he was grateful.

'We understand,' Harry said.

'Yes, Headmistress,' Hermione agreed.

'Yes, ma'am,' Silus added.

Severus merely sighed. He had explained the circumstances, if not the mechanism, which he did not know, of his survival and appearance to the gathering. He did not relate exactly what had happened, as it was not relevant. He merely said he had been sent back in time and that the Headmistress had sent him forward again, and that he had been following her orders as to keeping hidden, until Harry's crisis had required his help.

That's you, he sighed now again. Dig up old Snape when you need a potion or two. Bury him back in his dungeons again until he's needed again later. He's happier down there anyway, the misanthropic old buzzard.

Except that he was no longer old. The last several lonely months had also proven to him that he was not as misanthropic as he once thought. As for happy...

He looked at Harry then and felt his stomach twist and flutter.

Well, what did it matter if what made him happy was forbidden? He should be used to that by now.

'Since you've no further need of me, I suppose it would be best if I went back to Spinner's End then,' Severus finished his prepared comments and waited for word from the Headmistress.

She had come down to the lab after he had returned to his work there, intending to finish his notations, bottle the rest of his potion, and clear up his workspace.

She nodded now. 'At least for the nonce. I'm sure I'll see you next term.'

'Next term?'

She smiled. 'Severus. I have no desire to continue on with the rotating cadre of Aurors that Shacklebolt managed to approve to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I want, and the students deserve, a proper instructor to teach them and provide them continuity in their lessons.'

He winced.

'What is it?'

Severus sighed. 'I already went through having to teach students barely younger than myself. Do you realize you are asking me to teach students, some of whom may actually be older than I will be when next term begins?'

'I have every faith in your abilities, Severus, as I proved by bringing you here.'

He rolled his eyes.

'I also note,' she continued, 'That you have not refused the position outright.'

'I turn 17 in two weeks. I need work. I have a long life ahead of me.'

She smiled. 'Then I will see you in July, when I expect to go over the syllabus for next term, if not before.'

He nodded, but before she could leave he cleared his throat. 'Minerva?'

'Aye?'

'Do you truly not know how I was sent back in time and de-aged? Or is it something to which you are privy and cannot tell me? I shan't enquire further if it's the latter, I swear it.'

'I know, dear, and you needn't swear, as it's the honest truth that I have no idea. None at all.'

She looked at him with regret, then shook her head and left.

He refused to consider his reasons, or rather, all his reasons for visiting Harry one more time before he left. It was enough he could justify it by saying he wanted to ensure the continued health of the patient. The fact he went at a time no one else was likely to be present was mere happenstance.

'Professor!'

'I am not a professor anymore, well, at least not until next term,' he grumbled.

Harry's smile widened. 'Brilliant! Will you be back at Potions again?'

Severus shook his head. 'No. The Headmistress fancies me something of an expert in defensive magic.'

Harry's smile grew radiant and Severus had to swallow at the sudden leap his prick attempted inside his rather tight trousers. I'd best resize them again, he thought idly.

'That's fantastic, Professor. I'm so happy for you.'

And he was, Severus noted, astonished.

'I haven't been able to speak with you privately until now,' Harry admitted. 'But I'm just so glad you're all right. I'm glad you're getting a chance to do what you've always wanted to do. I'm... glad you're alive, sir.'

Severus cleared this throat.

'I'm no "sir."'

'Sorry. Professor.'

'Not that, either. Harry,' he paused, feeling his stomach tighten again at what he was about to say. 'To you, I'm just Severus. Severus Snape.'

Harry seemed stunned. He blinked and kept staring so long that Severus grew concerned and stepped up, touching the back of his fingers to his forehead. Harry shook his head.

'I'm okay, sir, er, Severus, sir. It's just... you called me Harry.'

Severus lifted a brow. 'Is that not your name? Or do you prefer one of your many titles?'

Harry snorted. 'No, it's my name. I... I think I like it when you say it.'

Severus felt himself blush and grow harder. He swallowed. 'Well, then. I shall endeavour to use it more often in future. Harry.'

Harry beamed. 'Thank you, Severus.'

'Think nothing of it. Well, I should be going. I need to see the Headmistress before I head back home.' He turned, about to leave when Harry called out.

'Severus?'

He looked back.

'Is it all right if I walk? I mean, do you think I'm okay to get up and move around?'

'Did you need the loo? I don't think a short walk will do any damage.'

'No, I need to show you something in the Headmistress's office, and since you're going there anyway—'

Minerva was not there when they arrived, her guardian painting informing them she had just left to speak to the Head of Herbology and would be returning later.

'Er, is it okay if I show something to Professor Snape inside? It's his, I swear, not anything of the Headmistress,' Harry said.

The painting merely swung open the door and the two entered.

'Harry, my boy! And Severus, I see our plan worked.'

'Headmaster!'

'Albus!'

Severus stepped closer to the painting of his old friend and mentor. Albus Dumbledore sat contentedly, stroking Fawkes's feathered head with a gentle finger.

'Your plan?'

'Oh, indeed. Although, really, it was all Fawkes's work and doing.'

'Fawkes?' Both he and Harry stared at the bird in the painting.

Harry frowned. 'Fawkes wasn't there before.'

'No, indeed, he was not. Phoenixes cannot die unless they choose to. When they do, they expend a great deal of magic and magical backlash, so it's best if they do so for a very special reason or occasion.'

'Albus...'

'Now, now Severus, it's not all that bad. It's just I've always felt regret that you had all that time stolen from you, since the time you moved in with the Malfoys and then joined the Death Eaters, then joined the Order, never taking time to have anything of your own, never doing anything of your own choosing without that damning mark on your arm, causing others to distrust you.'

'Albus...'

'Plus there was poor Fawkes. He's missed me rather dreadfully, the poor boy, much as I've missed him.'

'Albus—'

'So we worked it out between us that when you died, as it were, Fawkes would expend his energies in one last magnificent burning. He plucked you up and immolated with you, but instead of de-aging himself, he de-aged you, and once you were around the right age, he used the last of his magical energies to deposit you in a safe time where Minerva could mind you for us both.'

'Why you meddlesome, conniving—'

'Severus,' Harry interjected, and it was only his beloved and youthful tones that could have stopped his tirade. 'I don't think the Headmaster meant it to harm you. He loved you. He did it as a gift.'

'Yes, indeed, Harry, and bravo for intuiting that. It is, indeed, my last gift to you, my boy. And if that does not sit well with you, then consider it payback for having behaved in a way you yourself once told me to so do and which greatly went against my grain. I always regretted treating you as I did, even if it was at your behest, that night on the hill you came seeking my aid.'

It was just past breakfast a week later, and Severus was still practicing using his just-returned wand, when there was a knock at the Headmistress's door.

'Enter,' Minerva called, smiling at him as he self-consciously sat in the chair before her desk; he looked so very like a boy caught at some mischief.

'Headmistress?' Harry stuck his head in, and then positively beamed when he saw Snape. 'Severus!'

Severus found himself striving to appear unmoved despite the fact his prick was suddenly trying to leap out of his trousers without any assistance from him. 'Harry.'

'It's good to see you, Severus,' Harry smiled as he stepped up, holding out his hand.

Severus half-stood, but when he grasped Harry's hand, Harry moved even closer to give him a partial hug and he found himself awkwardly patting Potter's back in exchange as his face grew heated.

'Headmistress. Thank you for seeing me, but I had meant to ask you if you knew how I could contact Severus here, but since he's here...'

'Not at all, Harry. Since you need to speak with Severus — privately, I presume? — then I shall go see to Professor Flitwick, who needed a word about something.' She stood and moved toward the door. 'Good day to you both. Feel free to use the Floo, Severus, when you go.'

'Thank you, Minerva.'

'Yes, thank you, Headmistress,' Harry agreed.

The door closed behind her and Snape cleared his throat. 'If I might enquire — how is it that you can tell the difference between me and my brother? We are not that far apart in age any more.'

Harry beamed. 'Your clothes, of course. Silus doesn't wear anything that formal.'

Snape looked down at his frock coat. 'Ah.'

'Anyway, I came hoping to find you to give you something.'

Severus felt his cock harden to painful proportions and managed to turn his wince into an uneasy smile. 'Oh?'

Harry thrust out his hand and presented him with a vial. 'Your memories, sir.'

Snape took the vial with suddenly trembling fingers. He stared at the vial.

'Severus?'

He looked up at the voice, which was not Harry's, but Albus's. Then he set the vial down on the desk.

'I don't want them,' he said now, feeling his erection wilt with relief. 'You may destroy them if you wish.'

Harry frowned. 'But they're yours.'

'Then they are mine to dispose of, if I wish.'

'But... don't you want to remember?'

Severus shook his head. 'I lived through some of that time again. I have no desire to revisit it. Besides, it's like something that happened to a different man. I'm no longer that man.'

'That man gave his life for me,' Harry said.

Severus managed a stilted smile, trying to make his statement something of a joke. 'At least your parents did it properly. I couldn't even accomplish that much.'

'I'm glad you lived,' Harry asserted.

He looked away. 'Harry...'

'Look. I'll view them with you. You won't be alone.'

Severus looked back at him and found it suddenly hard to swallow. Harry's always open expression revealed everything, all his feelings, his pride and respect and admiration and love.

For him? He wondered at this now, and then he wondered how that could possibly be.

'That's not necessary,' he began, but Harry stepped up to touch his arm, his expression full of concern.

'I mean it, Severus. You wouldn't be alone. I'll be here.'

He looked up then to gaze on Albus's painting. The old wizard merely smiled and nodded and he looked back to Harry and worked up his nerve.

As if in response to his as yet unspoken agreement, Dumbledore's Pensieve suddenly floated into position across the room. Harry smiled.

Severus stood and cautiously walked toward it. Harry opened the vial and tipped its contents into the basin.

He looked at Harry and Harry gave him a confident smile, and then reached for his hand. Snape swallowed as he held Harry's hand, felt himself harden again as Harry squeezed his own hand comfortingly.

Then they both bent over the Pensieve and touched the surface...

... and nothing happened. The silver wisps dissolved and dissipated until the basin was clear once again. Harry looked aghast.

'Oh, my God. Severus, I'm so sorry!'

'Relax, dear boy,' Albus suddenly said and they both turned to see him smiling benignly at them both. 'Like the memory of a dream cannot be viewed in a Pensieve, neither can memories that no longer apply.'

Harry frowned, but Severus nodded thoughtfully, glad to not have to relive what he was sure would have been awkward and painful and perhaps even shameful.

'What matters, my boys, is now. This time. And making the most of it.'

Severus nodded slowly and Harry smiled. 'I agree, sir.'

Then he stepped up to Severus who was startled to realise he still held Harry's hand. He tried to let it go, but Harry shook his head.

'You can hex me, if you like, but there's something I just have to do. I've had to do this for a long time. What the Headmaster just said confirms it. If you don't mind, Sev?'

Hearing his old nickname on the lips of this delectable young man made him swallow. Severus blinked and suddenly found he was being kissed.

It was, he thought, nothing like Lily's kiss at all. It was warm and not at all hesitant. It was firm and insistent and demonstrated just how much it was meant, just how much he was desired.

'Harry,' he moaned then, and his free hand came up to clasp at him and he thrilled at the feeling of being clasped back just as strongly.

When they parted for breath, he managed to whisper, 'I shan't hex you.'

Harry smiled. 'Good.'

'I, uh, don't mind.'

Harry's smile widened. 'Good.'

Severus swallowed. 'You do realise that I'm younger than you now?'

Harry nodded. 'I don't care.'

Snape nodded, fighting the desire to snog him senseless and hump against his leg.

Harry sighed slightly. 'If I don't kiss you again soon, I may explode.'

'In that case.'

Severus leaned in this time and closed his eyes and made the most of what he'd been given.

Epilogue -aka- seven months later...

The sensation was warm and delicious and Harry smiled lazily as his jaw was gently sucked and nibbled and licked.

His cock was already hard and every time he shifted his hips it pressed against his pyjama pants and made him want to moan.

The warm, wet mouth moved along his jaw to his ear, which was gently bitten, then sucked.

He gave up fighting his moans, pushing his hips out now, wanting pressure there, where it ached.

That mouth moved down from his ear to his larynx, where it licked and sucked and gently gnawed that sensitive skin.

'Mm...' Harry moaned.

That mouth moved lower and he could feel warm, thin fingers work their way under his pyjama top and pluck gently at his nipples.

'Oh, God...'

'Mm, I have not reached the status of deity, but I'm glad you hold me in such very high regard.'

Harry opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of those warm black eyes gazing at him with love and devotion.

'Good morning, lover.'

'Good morning yourself, tasty.'

'Oh, am I?'

'I just said so, didn't I?'

He leaned in to kiss Harry and found himself being enthusiastically kissed in return.

Severus loved this, just snogging and gently thrusting against one another, snug in their bed, with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

Soon enough the urge for more built and he pulled back, turning to his bedside table and retrieving the jar of lubricant he had formulated especially for their lovemaking.

He handed the jar to Harry and began to turn, getting ready to get on his hands and knees, but Harry stopped him.

'What?'

'I want to watch you.'

Severus swallowed, then nodded and lay back, spreading his legs wide and lifting his knees. Harry gazed down on him with love and pride.

He still could scarcely believe that this brilliant, witty, fiendishly clever, strong and brave man wanted to be with him, much less was willing to let him take the lead, as it were, in the sexual aspect of their relationship.

He dipped his fingers in the jar and leaned over him, kissing him gently, and then kissing his way down his neck, his nipples, his belly, the fine line of hairs leading to his surprisingly heavy, rigid cock.

Snape moaned as Harry began to tongue his bollocks, even as his slick fingers dipped between his arse cheeks and sought the tender opening there.

'Mm, and you said I was tasty,' he murmured, applying plenty of lube along the cleft before dipping one finger within.

'Harry!'

'I love when you sound like this,' he said, sliding that finger up and down and in and out, swirling it around and around as Severus writhed beneath him. 'So hungry.'

'Harry!'

He slid another finger in then and slowed his pace, even as he began to gently suck on the tip of that magnificent cock, swirling his tongue beneath the foreskin.

'Harry!'

He pressed the two fingers gently over that special spot inside and smiled as Snape gasped, and then began to spurt semen all over his chin and cheeks and hair.

Harry loved this; almost as much as he loved the fact his lover was so very rapacious. It wouldn't be long, he knew, before Severus was raring to go again.

'Oh, Harry...'

'Soon, love. I'm still preparing you.'

Harry slid his fingers back and leisurely twirled them, all whilst nuzzling his semen-covered face against that smooth, pale chest and belly. All he could smell was Severus and this delighted him.

'I can't wait to be inside you.'

Snape reached a long arm down to gently stroke Harry and he allowed it as he continued to stretch that small hole, adding another finger now and rotating them near the entrance. Severus groaned and arched and Harry pulled free of him to slide all thee fingers in and around, over and over and over.

'Please.'

Harry slid his hand free and got in between Severus's legs, sitting back on his haunches and looking down at his lover.

Those black eyes pleaded with him, and he answered their request. He lifted Snape's knees and slid them onto his shoulders. Then with great care he positioned his thick cock head at that moistened opening, and slid deep inside.

Severus grasped at him, holding his arms and staring at him intently. Harry smiled down at him.

Then he began to move, slowly, rotating his hips and thrusting,

'Harry.'

'I'm right here, Severus.'

'Harry...'

'Look at me.'

Those black eyes stared and he smiled at him, letting all his feelings show, letting his lover use Legilimency if he so chose, to know exactly how he felt.

Severus released one of his arms to thrust his hand in between his legs and grasp his cock. He fisted it, stroking it rapidly, arching slightly.

Harry could feel the tightening and flexing of his arse and moaned. 'Yes, Severus.'

'Harry...'

He began to thrust harder, faster.

Severus gasped, panting, frigging himself desperately, eyes locked on Harry's.

Harry nodded at him. 'Yes.'

Snape grimaced, closed his eyes and Harry began to come, even as he felt the passage snug up around him as his lover spunked. He moaned softly and reveled in the contractions that massaged his own throbbing cock like a gentle fist.

Soon enough he was released and slid out of his lover's welcoming body. Arms reached for him and brought him close.

Harry slid onto the firm, sweaty, sex-scented warmth that was his lover.

'Severus.'

'Mm?'

'I just like saying it. It means you're really here. I'm not just having a dream of you. You're really truly here.'

'I'm really, truly here.'

'And you want to be here.'

'There is no place else I want to be,' Severus replied with a sigh. 'I admit, though, that I cannot wait until we have sex in my quarters at Hogwarts when term starts.'

Harry lifted a brow at this. 'Oh?'

'Oh, aye. Haven't you seen the Prefect's bath? The bathrooms for the instructors are even more opulent.'

Harry imagined having sex with Severus in an enormous bubble-filled tub and his smile grew resplendent.

'We may well drown.'

'Cast a Bubble-Head Charm first.'

'Ooh!'

'What?'

'I just imagined doing that, then sucking you under the water.'

Snape groaned as his cock twitched hopefully.

'I need food and drink if we are to continue our sexual debauchery. Not to mention at least a modicum of rest.'

'Mm, yes. After all you're still a growing boy,' Harry teased.

He smirked as Snape blushed, but did not argue the point. He had already told him, after all, that he had not finished growing until he was 19. Harry could have sworn he had grown another inch or so in just the months they'd been together.

'You're lucky I shan't be teaching you next term.'

'Oh, I don't know,' Harry sighed. 'It would be nice to have detention with you. I'm sure you could find something for my idle hands to do.'

Snape groaned again and Harry smirked.

'Is sex all you think about?'

'When I was 17? Yes. And just in case it's escaped your notice, I'm 17. Again.' Severus's head fell back on the pillow and he sighed. 'Of course, when I was really 17 I didn't have nearly as good a time finding an outlet for my sexual tension.'

'Are you? Having a good time, I mean?'

'The fact you made me spunk twice, spectacularly, I might add, and groan out your name whilst sounding like a cow trying to give birth didn't clue you in? Merlin, but who are the Aurors trying to hire these days?'

Harry slapped his chest lightly. 'Shut it, you. I mean... well, I mean are you happy? Do I make you happy? I know I can make you come, and I'm beyond glad at that, but, am I making you happy, Severus? Beyond this bedroom.'

Snape stared straight ahead, up at the ceiling he had riddled with hex-marks when he'd first been 17, practicing his wand work whilst shooting at flies. The Malfoys had sent him back to his own home as soon as he'd been of age. He always had the feeling he had been somehow found lacking by them, despite their kindness toward him, and their continued patronage as he began his career. At the time, he could only attribute it to his humble beginnings and his Half-Blood status.

He considered Harry's question now and knew beyond doubt that Harry did not find him lacking in any capacity. Their beginnings were similar and depressing. They were both Half-Bloods.

And Lily loved us both.

He liked to think she would have been glad to know he had protected her son, and that he still did.

He had saved Harry so many times now. There was an Asian proverb that said when you saved someone's life they were henceforth your responsibility; in effect, that you owned them.

Harry was his. More importantly, he was Harry's. Harry had not saved his life, but he had saved his existence.

Severus Snape was not a lonely, dour bachelor with nothing to look forward to but a nice bottle of Elf-Made wine for the holidays, in lieu of true friends.

He was partnered, content and shared his home with a young, equally insatiable lover. They had visits from his brother, and his brother's intended, all of whom got along well. They also were called on by the Headmistress of Hogwarts, by the Weasleys who invited them to suppers they usually declined out of respect for Harry and Ginny's feelings, by the Minister of Magic who asked after both their health and welfare, by Andromeda Tonks who brought Harry's godson over to liven his home, and even Narcissa Malfoy, who brought wine and asked after both of them as if she genuinely wished to know. Harry had informed him of what she had done during the war, how she had lied to keep him alive. Severus thought perhaps she did care. Even if she did not, however, she was kind and gracious in her lie.

He had a job he looked forward to and an unmarked arm free of the taint of his prior life. He was wrong, he suddenly realised. Lily was not the only one who had loved him.

Albus truly did love me, he thought now. He allowed me this, this time again, to be young and free of stigma. To live for a change in a state of... well, grace.

'You do not make me happy, Harry,' he announced now. 'You, my irrepressible, maddening, exhilarating love, make me feel joy.'

Then he rolled over and bent to kiss those lips, parted in startled surprise, and claimed what was finally and irrevocably, his.

THE END

Post-A/N

This is what Prince looks like.

The countercurse is the closest I could get to what it sounds like Snape is chanting in HBP. chazpure and I both heard "vulnera" for the first word, and the second phonetically sounded like "see NUM dura." When I looked it up, I discovered "vulnero" is wound, which makes sense. The pronunciation would make it sound like vulnera. "signum" (see NUM) is to seal. "dura" means permanently. Thus explaining how I got that phrase. If it is wrong, I blame WB for making the background music too loud.

Those that like them can thank chazpure for Silus/Hermione, who was rather taken by the idea as I related the tale to her. I had not intended to pair either of them off, but... there you go!

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Severus Snape and other Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, her lawyers, handlers, editors, personal umbrella carrier, pedicurist, and those guys in the suits from the WB. The Snarry Games and its participants want nothing to do with that lot or their money. Okay, we'd take their money, but they aren't offering. Web space doesn't come for free, ya know?