Because I was reading "Harry goes to the past" time travel fanfiction, and wondered, "Hey, why does no one from the past ever go to the future?" Thus this was born.

I Don't own Harry Potter or any of his seven books/movies.

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Severus Snape glared at his potion. If there was one thing he knew, it was potions, so why was his brew a pale blue instead of bright yellow? He checked over the steps he'd gone through… and knit his eyebrows. He'd done everything perfectly; he was positive.

Snickers sounded and he fingered his wand, turning to see Black and Potter smiling cheekily in his direction. James was smirking as Severus glimpsed a casual flick the other boy's wand. Eyes widening in horror, Severus's attention snapped back to his potion in time to witness fluxweed vanish into his cauldron.

"Shit." Severus wasn't fast enough to vanish the failed potion, as it turned a pearlescent orange and blew up, enveloping him in the fumes. Gasping reflexively, Snape silently cursed his own stupidity, as taking potentially noxious fumes into one's lungs was generally not considered wise in the least. "Shit shit shit." Snape exhaled quickly and rushed to get out of the all encompassing cloud. He was going to kill those Marauders if it was the last thing he bloody did.

Gasping, Severus launched himself out of the cloud and landed in the middle of the abandoned classroom. That felt like a longer run than it really was. Maybe it was the botched potion's effects, he didn't know. But still, professor Slughorn should have at least pulled him out of that potentially dangerous situation.

Shrugging, Severus walked out of the potions classroom and into the deserted hallway. Which…was weird; His classmates should still be around at least. Thoroughly confused, Snape gripped his wand tightly, and hoped that the Marauders weren't around, or behind this sick version of a joke. Hearing the faint rumble of noise, Severus swiftly made his way toward the constant commotion. This was uncharacteristic of Hogwarts, and Severus felt a spike of panic make its way up his spine.

The spike of panic was quickly the least of his worries as the spike of pain he felt going up his arm thoroughly distracted him. And then it was gone like it had never existed, and a feeling of peace replaced it. He's dead. Severus felt free with this innate knowledge that came with the absence of pain. He's actually dead… He smiled as he watched the Darkmark disappear. He'd only had the mark for less than a year, and the tattoo needed at least three years to settle in permanently.

Pulling his sleeve back down, Snape hurried down the corridors, and ran into a war zone. What the hell happened here? There were stretchers and people moaning, some bleeding from wounds visible and not. Some of them won't make it, he realized, eying a distraught family with red hair, and…was that Lucius?

Shaking his head, Severus felt around his pants, swiftly untying the small bag he kept there. With the Marauder's always making his life hell, he kept an array of potions in stock on his person at all times. He knew he had at least a few healing potions and pain remedies. Approaching a boy with heavy burns around his head that were sure to be a pain, Severus summoned a burn salve from the pouch and pressed it into the boys palms. "Thanks Madam Promfy."

"You're welcome. It's for your burns." Severus was amused he'd been confused with the school nurses. He stalked away, leaving Neville to jerk up in surprise. There was no one there, besides a Slytherin student walking away. Definitely no Professor Snape around. Professor Snape was dead, Harry had said so.

"I must be going mental." He whispered, opening the jar. It smelled medicinal enough…Neville started to apply the salve only to have his grandmother show up to help him. Maybe this was an apology from the dead, for all the grief his professor had caused him. He smiled at the thought; he'd like that.

Severus for his part, continued through the crowed, wordlessly handing out what potions he could to those that needed them the most. By the end his stocks were depleted and he wondered when he would have the time to brew some more.

Glancing around, Severus was still perplexed at how many of the people he'd never seen before. A pair of students caught his attention as they paid attention to the space between them before getting up to leave. The headmaster's office. Of course. If there was anyone that would know, it would be that man. He followed in their footsteps after making sure there was no one on the brink of death.

"I've had enough trouble for a lifetime." Severus paused outside the door. He didn't want to interrupt, but he felt like something was very off. He opened the door and stepped in.

"Oh my." The trio turned to face the intruder, wands raised in case it was a death eater come to take revenge for his master. Severus paid them little mind, too shocked at the portrait on the wall. "Why the fuck are you in a portrait headmaster?"

Dumbledore looked just as surprised as he did. "Is that…you, Severus my boy?"

Said boy snorted, stepping closer. "And who else would I be Headmaster? James Potter?" He rolled his eyes. "I am, obviously, myself."

That earned him a chuckle. "That you are my boy. But the real question is, what are you doing here?"

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Just the set the record straight, when/if i continue this, there will be slash. HPSS forever man.