A/N: Hey, I forgot to mention last chapter, but as you can tell, this won't follow the epilogue very well.

Chapter II

As in we see things as they were.

Felix groaned as he returned to the living. His entire body felt as if it had been hit by the Knight Bus. Twelve times seemed like a dozen too few to be completely accurate. There was no way he was going to work that day. Well, he declared that until he remembered about Hermione, Draco and that ridiculously large Time Turner. He was now Felix Siclife, blond, scar-less and glasses-less. No one here knew him and, for some reason, he felt elated at that idea. He was just Felix Siclife, some scrawny man who didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. No one would care who he dated, or what he did on his latest Auror mission. No one would stalk him and try to get pictures of him naked. Absolutely no one in this world knew he existed, that he had been the Boy-Who-Lived and saved their lives multiple times. No one would care if he disappeared off the face of the Earth.

No one knew him. He was completely, utterly alone. He had no friends, no allies, but also no enemies. Yet, the voice sounding irritatingly like Hermione reprimanded at the thought. Felix chuckled. Even twelve years away and she still was there to be his common sense.

But the chuckling hurt. Felix cursed under his breath as he became aware of himself and of his surroundings. The first thing he noticed- after the agonizing pain- was how cold he was. He was also very wet, yet it was not raining. At least, not that he could tell. It was quiet, wherever he was, for he could not have been where he had been last if he was wet from rain. He could smell the earthly scent and the wet pavement he was laying on all around him. The sidewalk was just as cold against his face. Perhaps that had been where the cold had been coming from. Felix shoved away the thought; it hurt his head to think so much. Plus the cold and wetness were making him too numb to think too hard. It was then he noticed the warmth at his lips and the metallic taste on his tongue. He struggled for breath that was quick to escape him. He could tell he needed medical attention, but that could wait. Harry and Sirius needed his help first and foremost.

Felix tried to push himself up- he really did try. His body hurt too much to even pull his arms to his sides, much less to push him up. He had yet to open his eyes, so he did so when he could not move anything else. He noticed it was dark out, and the sky was rapidly becoming lighter. Felix needed to get up before someone found him.

The time traveler pushed the pain from his mind and forced himself to stand. Five excruciating minutes later, Felix stood above the puddle of blood where his head had been. A shaky hand reached up to swipe across his head. He hissed as he came upon the injury at his left temple. His hand came away slick with blood. A painful cough revealed he had blood on his lips, which he frantically wiped away. He spat out the blood that had collected in his mouth with a grimace.

This was just not his day.

Slowly, and with shaking hands, he lifted the Time Turner to eye level. The glass was broken and the shiny sand trickled out languidly. He watched, fascinated, as the sand swirled at his feet, despite the lack of a breeze. It was broken, yes, but Hermione had instructed he destroy it the first chance he got.

Well, Felix thought bitterly, maneuvering carefully to put the Time Turner in his neat little bag Hermione had charmed for him to be just like the one they had used during their Horcrux Hunt with as little pain as possible. There is no way I can do this now. With that thought in mind, Felix pulled out his wand and held it out over the street. The Knight Bus popped into existence, surprising Felix and knocking him over.

The conductor stepped into view and started his spiel. However, he quickly noticed he had no audience. He looked down and looked at Felix in surprise. "What'chu doin' down there?"

Felix groaned a reply, too sore to do much else.

Stan Shunpike- for that was the conductor's name- noticed the blood on the sidewalk behind Felix and the blood running down the older man's face. "Bloody hell," he muttered, shocked. He jumped from the bus and kneeled beside the blond man. "Are you all right?"

Felix groaned as Stan helped him sit. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just... I need to... I need to..." He needed to what? Felix was having a hard time remembering what it was he was supposed to be doing at the moment. He had a feeling it was about a boy... Living under the stairs... It hit him like a sack of brinks. Again, Felix groaned and put a hand to his aching head. "I need to get to Number Four Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. I think. I'm not... sure..."

"Me thinks you be needin' St. Mungo's," Stan insisted as he helped Felix stand.

The injured man shook his head carefully. He felt so dizzy. "No... I have to save him... There's a boy, there. He's in danger. He's-"

"I'll contact the proper authorities, I will," Stan told him as he sat him down in a chair towards the front where he could keep an eye on the man. "Oi, Ernie! St. Mungo's straight away!"

"Not St. Mungo's straight away," Felix yelled at the driver. "I'll go after I rescue the boy. I'm the only one capable of saving him."

Stan sighed, but tapped the glass separating the driver from the rest of the triple-deck bus. Desolately, he told the old man, "Number Four Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey." To Felix he said, "My name is Stan Shunpike. What were you doin' to get in a state like this?"

Felix stared up at the younger man in a daze. The Knight Bus shot off, but Felix looked unfazed by the sudden movement. "'m Neville," he replied automatically. He shook his head and furrowed his brows in confusion. "No... Not right. 'm Felix, I am. Neville's a friend, you know? Or rather, he was my friend. I'm not sure anymore. Haven't talked to that bloke in a while, though you can't blame him," Felix rambled on. "Felix Siclife, I think my name is. What color is my hair?"

The teenager winced at the blood coating the left side of his head. The whole left side of his head was glistening with the red liquid and it even ran down to pool in his collarbone. Most of the blue t-shirt had turned a dark brown from all the blood. Stan was worried Felix had lost too much. Plus, the man was soaked to the bone. Stan grabbed a towel and placed it around the shivering man. He wondered how long Felix had been lying out there and cursed himself for not making the injured man go to St. Mungo's first. When Felix's eyes started drooping, Stan vividly remembered a lesson his mother had taught him; never let someone with a head injury go to sleep until a doctor said it was all right. A concussion, she had said, and if this wasn't a head injury on the stranger Stan Shunpike didn't know what was.

"Oi, Felix." Stan tapped on the not-so-bloody side of the injured man's face. "Stay awake."

"'m tired..." Felix moaned. His head lolled back dangerously. "I haven't any money, neither..."

Stan merely shushed him and tried to keep him awake for the rest of the ride. It was a long ride, simply for the fact that Stan was so frightened of Felix Siclife dying in his arms. Well, the man wasn't technically in his arms, but Stan felt it was about to come to that the way the stranger was swaying in his seat. Stan had a hand on Felix the entire time to try to keep him steady. After a while, and when Felix had done nothing to dry himself, Stan waved his wand and dried him off himself. He placed the towel firmly to the bleeding temple. The man still shivered, as if robe-less in the middle of winter. It was, in fact, not the middle of winter; it was the middle of July. Stan grimaced at the blood running sluggishly down Felix's face from the gash on his temple. He could have sworn he saw the bone, but passed it off as a trick of the light when staring at it made him feel rather queasy. Stan had no idea how to address head wounds, so he just pressed the towel to the gash and prayed Ernie would drive faster.

Soon enough they arrived at Number Four Privet Drive. Stan shook the man and told him they were there. Felix murmured, "Please stay for a bit." Stan had no intention of leaving the poor injured man stranded in a muggle suburb. Besides, wasn't the motto for the Knight Bus to pick up any stranded witch or wizard?

Felix hugged the bag to his chest and held his wand tightly in his other hand. He gathered his wits in front of the door. Distractedly, he wondered what time it was. The sun was up by now, and had been for a little while by its position peaking above the house behind him. He sneered at the house in front of him. He hated being here; he hadn't been here since his seventeenth birthday. Without further ado, he rapped his knuckles against the door of Number Four Privet Drive of Little Whinging, Surrey.

Several seconds passed before a tall, thin, horse-like woman answered the door. Her eyes, harsh and unfriendly, bore into Felix's. She took in the blood with a look of disgust. "If you've bloodied up the drive, I'll-"

Felix held up his wand. "I'm one of them, Mrs. Dursley. I am here for Mr. Potter."

"There is no-"

"I know he is here, Petunia," Felix intoned, skillfully hiding the slur in his words. He pointed the wand directly at her; he had no fear of retribution if he hexed her. "I've been through hell to get here, and I know you don't want him. He's just a burden to you, isn't he?" Both noticed the trembling wand, but Petunia tactfully kept quiet. She recognized the crazed look in his eye. Felix pushed past her and went straight for the cupboard under the stairs that had been his bedroom for the better part of ten long years. He pointed his wand at the locks and they flew off with a light clang.

Felix slowly pulled the cupboard door open to reveal a small and rather skinny boy with wild black hair and brilliant green eyes. His clothes were several sizes too big for his tiny frame. The round glasses hanging on his nose were only held together by nearly an entire roll of scotch tape. A thin scar in the shape of a bolt of lightning marred his forehead. The green eyes- so eerily similar to Felix's- widened to an impossible degree. Felix grinned down at him and waved.

"Hullo, Mr. Potter." Felix certainly felt strange saying that to himself. "I am here to collect you. If you will please go to the bus waiting for you outside, I will gather your things for you." Harry nodded vigorously and hurriedly put on his shoes. He all but bolted out the door just as Vernon Dursley came thundering down the stairs.

"What the blazes is going on here!" he yelled, quickly turning red.

Felix calmly started placing the items he knew Harry would want in his special green bag. He knew what was important and where all the hidden stashes were. As he gathered his younger self's things, he answered Mr. Dursley, "Why, sir, I'm only taking Harry Potter off your hands for you. You don't want him- he's only a burden to you."

Vernon bristled at the calm tone in the younger man's voice. "Then I want compensation!"

Suddenly a stick was at his throat. Vernon fell silent, quickly turning purple in anger. He was not as angry as one Felix Siclife. "You do not-" Felix spat, pushing the holly wand further into the hardly-there neck "-put a price on someone's life! Do you understand me, Dursley?" Felix loved the feeling of power he had over his uncle. Vernon was trembling, but Felix was not sure if it was in anger or fear. Felix hoped it was the latter. Finally, Vernon nodded and backed away. "Good," said Felix, turning back to the cupboard. "I won't tell a soul about this. I could report you to the authorities, you know. For abuse, of course." He relished in the satisfaction of causing their quickly paling faces. "But I won't. That would be rude of me, since I am kidnapping your nephew." He gave them a cheeky grin and briskly walked back to the purple bus waiting at the curb.

Once on the bus, Felix collapsed on a chair as if he was a puppet and his strings had been cut. He pressed a hand to his aching head and groaned yet again. Even that small confrontation had taken a lot out of him. "Take me to... to... There's this... He'd be able to... Take... I..."

Stan slapped his face lightly, so as not to injure him further, to keep the man conscious. "Oi, stay with me, Felix. You, keep 'im awake. Ernie! St. Mungo's on the double!"

"No," Felix moaned, grabbing Harry's arm to steady himself. "Slipnor... Splendor... Splendid... Splinted? No... Spinner's End! Spinner... Spinner's End... Yeah, where Snape lives. He'll help me. He'll save me from the big bad wolfie... Yeah, he always protected me..."

Harry and Stan exchanged looks as the delirious man rambled on. "Alrigh', Ernie. Severus Snape's place."

"What's going on-"

"Don' ask questions," Stan snapped, pressing the soiled towel back to the wound on Felix's temple.

Harry bit his lip and asked hesitantly, "What do we do now?"

Stan sighed and closed his eyes. He was weary after a long night and now this. "All we can do is wait."

One very long and silent hour later found the Knight Bus in front of the house of Severus Snape. Harry was slightly skeptical that the man inside would be willing to help them. If he was honest with himself, the neighborhood did not look all that friendly. Still, he did as he was told and helped the injured and hardly conscious man- Felix, he vaguely remembered- off the bus and to the door. Stan had hesitantly disappeared when Felix had waved him off, telling the younger man he'd be fine. Harry struggled under Felix's heavy body as he tried to knock on the door. He managed a light tap, but the door still opened a few seconds later.

The inside of the house was dark, Harry noticed, and with the little light shining in he saw that every wall was covered with bookshelves. A tall, dark clothed man sneered down at him, but Harry bit back the insatiable need to whimper in fright. His skin was sallow, and his eyes were a cold, empty black that reminded Harry of a dark tunnel. Those two dark eyes drilled into him unnervingly so, making Harry cringe and almost drop Felix. Yes, Harry decided, I will never make this man angry. Ever.

"Excuse me, sir?" Harry said, sounding much braver than he felt. "This man- Felix is his name- he's injured, sir, and he wouldn't go to St. Mungo's. He said only you were able to help him." At the glare from the tall man, Harry added, "Sir."

The black eyes continued to stare into his very soul. "And why, pray tell, would I help a complete stranger?"

"He... He said that you will save him from a wolf," Harry replied, looking between the two men. "But he was a bit delusional. Please, sir, Stan Shunpike told me he may have a concussion! Sir. And he's bleeding an awful lot. He was bleeding when he came and saved m- I mean, picked me up from my Aunt's house over an hour ago." Harry started fidgeting under the harsh gaze. "We had a towel pressed to the wound," he continued quickly. "But it was so soiled by the time we got here that it's of no use anymore. Please help us."

Harry stumbled as Felix became complete deadweight on top of him. Felix was mumbling, but Harry could not make out the fevered words. Felix struggled with his small bag and pulled out a large hourglass. "I need you to destroy this, with Fiendfyre, preferably," he managed to say somewhat coherently. "It's important that it be destroyed immediately. After that... I need to talk with you."

Snape glared down his abnormally large nose at the two. His upper lip curled back to reveal crooked yellow teeth. If Harry hadn't been holding the limp man up, he would have cowered in fright. Finally, and much to Harry's relief, Snape stood aside to let them in.

"Lay him on the sofa," he ordered as they entered the small house. The lights came on as soon as the door closed. Harry did as he was told and Snape, sneering at the pair, crossed the small room to another door with the hourglass. He stalked through it and came back several minutes later with what looked like a first aid kit, a large bowl, and a white towel. The hourglass was not with him. Harry backed away from the sofa as he neared. Snape looked over at him and asked, "What did you say your names were?"

"I'm Harry Potter, sir," Harry replied, tugging at the end of his large shirt. "This is Felix, but I don't know his last name. Sir... Please tell me what's going on."

Instead of answering (why he had to answer to such a dunderhead anyway was beyond him) Snape filled the bowl with water with a wave of his wand. The boy gasped and Snape looked up. With a roll of his dark eyes he asked, "What's wrong now?"

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

The boy looked at him as if he were stupid, or had grown a second head. "The water poured from that stick! What's the trick behind it?"

Snape glared harshly at him before going back to cleaning the wound. "It's magic, you imbecile."

The green eyes widened. "But there's no such thing as magic!"

"No such thing as magic!" Snape roared, turning a full, heated glare at the cowering boy. "I'll assure you, boy, that there is such a thing as magic. It's what killed your parents."

Harry pulled out of his fright at Snape's last words. "Killed my parents? My parents died in a car crash because they were drunks-"

"LIES!" Snape was on his feet, towering over the tiny boy. "Your father may have been an arrogant prick, but even I know he would not be a drunk. Your mother never would have touched more than one drink no matter what the occasion! Who told you this rubbish?"

"Can we get to that when I'm not dying?" asked a weak voice below them. "I'll explain everything later, Harry. I promise. Snape, I'll explain everything to you now, if Harry will be allowed to leave the room."

Harry looked almost upset at this but he said nothing. He knew he shouldn't push, shouldn't question. He'd learned that from Uncle Vernon quite a few times. A cuff about his head would be the only thing for his impudence. So, instead of saying anything, he hung his head and shuffled back out of Snape's reach, just in case he would hit him, too. He cringed, readying himself to either brace himself for the slap or run if Snape showed any sign of harming him.

Severus Snape caught the look immediately. His harsh exterior fell as cold dread slipped in past his defense. Harry was afraid of him. Harry was afraid he would hit him, and he braced himself in a way that seemed almost practiced. Snape backed away from the boy and turned back to the injured man to occupy his mind so he wouldn't have to think about James Potter's son. He clenched his fists and glared at the back of the sofa. "Go wait in the kitchen," he told the boy. Harry only nodded and scampered to the room he was to wait in. "And touch nothing!"

"Yes sir!"

Snape waved his wand over the door so sound could not escape the room. He turned back to the injured man. "Start talking."

Felix stumbled through an explanation. He started with the Time Turner and jumped around. His mind would not stay on one track, and it was starting to annoy Snape, but he said nothing as Felix rambled on. Felix told him how he needed the Potion Professor's help if he wanted to succeed. He told him everything he had said to Draco and Hermione, and he mentioned that strange meeting. He did not give the man his real name, but he let all his motives out into the air. He explained about Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black, and how he wanted to free Sirius to take care of Harry because Harry needed him. Snape scowled at that part, but kept silent. Felix was glad, because he figured if he stopped now he would not be able to start back up again. Felix continued that train of thought and said he had no money, but he would once they got Harry's key and used that to get into the vault and he would pay him back once he could get to the money. He told Snape about his death, and that he wanted to prevent it because he admired the man so much for everything he had done. Snape calmly reminded him that he had not done those things, and Felix hesitated to continue.

Finally, he got the nerve to tell the older man about the Horcrux Hunt and how he needed to find them before Harry or Dumbledore could.

He finished by telling Severus Snape how much he trusted him to keep this a secret, and that he trusted for him to finish his quest if Felix somehow died from it. Snape agreed to finish his task after a long moment of silence.

As Felix rambled on about the war and of his plans to change things, Severus Snape paid strict attention to every detail no matter how insignificant it might have seemed. He did not doubt Felix for a minute, but he did at first. The whole situation was just too bizarre to actually be real. It did not help that Felix struggled to stay awake and coherent throughout his tirade as Snape stitched the gash on his head back up. The gash looked positively painful. If what Felix was saying was true, then the wound made sense if he was thrown from Grimmauld Place and its powerful wards so violently. It would worry Snape more if Felix had come from the ordeal unscathed.

Snape tied off the last stitch and sat back to watch the silent Time Traveler. The vivid green eyes stared right back at him, still slightly glazed over from pain. Snape pressed a vial to the pallid lips. Felix drank that one and two more before Snape decided Felix lucid enough to ask him a question he would be able to answer. "Why me and not Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore always kept things from me," Felix replied. "I can trust him, but not to the extent that I trust you. I cannot do this alone, and I only want your help."

Snape nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

Felix sighed and closed his eyes with a smile. "So you believe me." It wasn't a question, and Felix wasn't looking for an answer. He plowed on before Snape could say anything. "That's good that you do. If I tell you to do something, will you carry out the task or follow my advice without question?"

"I will."

"And if it appears I could die on one of my tasks?"

"I will not question you."

"You will not stop me," Felix corrected, narrowing his eyes. "Promise it."

"Would you like a Wizard Oath?"

Felix shook his head gingerly. "I'll take your word for it."

Snape was honestly pleasantly surprised at Felix's words. "Then of course I will promise not to stop you or question you."

Felix gave him a sad smile. "And can you promise not to be so harsh on Harry? He's had a similar childhood as you. He slept in a cupboard for ten years of his life and he was belittled every day. I'm not saying you have to treat him like a hero or anything. Just..." Felix looked away. "Treat him like you would every other student. That's what I liked about you."

"I could... do that," Snape replied. His expression suggested he had eaten something rather disgusting that he wished he had never thought to try in the first place.

Felix smiled up at him before grimacing and clutching at his chest. He cried out in pain and twisted, as if trying to separate his body from the excruciating pain. Snape ripped away the bloodied shirt to expose a dark bruise on the left side of Felix's chest. He swore and rummaged through his first aid kit for something that could help Felix's heart. He pulled out a phial and shook it to make sure the ingredients hadn't separated. Quickly, he administered the potion. Snape fumbled through the medical kit again and pulled out a paste. Gently, but just as quick, he rubbed the paste over the dark bruise that was slowly spreading. He released a sigh of relief when the bruising stopped and Felix's breathing became easier.

An idea came to him, then, and he shifted through his kit to find the next potion he needed. He swiftly pulled out the stopper once it was found. Felix tried to refuse to drink the potion, but Snape easily overpowered the weakened man. He poured the vile liquid down the poor man's throat and sat back to watch the results. With a few painful sounding pops of ribs snapping back into place and a groan to accompany it, Felix was able to breathe again. He gave Snape what he hoped was a thankful look before passing out.

Snape sighed and sat back to roll the tense knots out of his shoulders. He gathered up his kit, all the while keeping an eye on Felix. He would have to watch that heart problem, and he should have looked at it as soon as Felix told him about Hermione's prediction. Snape berated himself for the mistake that could have cost the man his life as he cleaned the blood from the sofa and floor with a flick of his wand. Felix's hair was still matted with blood from where Snape could not get it out all the way. It bothered Snape, for some strange reason, but perhaps it was because he sympathized with his two guests. He conjured a blanket and placed it over the unconscious man before heading to keep his other guest company.

"Potter... Harry," Snape said as he entered the kitchen, startling Harry who had been sitting on a chair looking rather bored out of his mind. Snape tore down the silencing charm as he passed through the door. "You may stay in the guest bedroom for the time being. We are working out a way to free your godfather, which you have no need to concern yourself over."

Harry nodded enthusiastically. At long last, someone was telling him what was going on! Wait a second... "I have a godfather?"

"Yes." Snape busied himself with making tea while they waited for Felix to wake again. As he did this, Snape decided to be nice to the boy. For one day only. After a few slightly awkward silent minutes the tea was ready. Snape served a cup to his guest who gave him a confused look in return. "You drink it."

"I know, but..." Harry bit his lip and shrunk back in his seat, as if afraid to speak his mind. Glancing through his fringe he said, "I thought freaks weren't allowed to have tea."

"Then I shall break that rule with you," said Snape, sipping at his own tea. "I do not believe I told you my name. Severus Snape, though you will be calling me Professor Snape."

"Why?"

When Snape shot him a look, Harry instantly huddled as far back into his chair as he could. "I'm sorry. I won't ask questions."

"Question are good, Mr. Potter," Snape replied easily. "And since you are just bursting at the seams," Snape raised an eyebrow in his direction, "I am sure I may be able to answer your questions as our friend is indisposed at the moment."

Harry practically bounced in his seat at the implication of such a simple sentence. He could ask whatever he wanted, and he wouldn't get punished! Harry felt rather gleeful at the man's sudden change of attitude. "Alright! My first question: Magic is real?"

Snape sighed and rubbed his temples to ward off an impending headache. This was going to be a long day. He cursed the man sleeping in his sitting room. This was just not his day.