DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Two:
- We're All Together in the All Together -
AN: It's going to get confusing for a bit now as all the Snapes interact. I'll try to keep them identifiable, but at this point, it's not really that important. Enjoy the free show!
"Give him his wand."
A faceless Death Eater picked up Snape's wand from where it lay discarded amongst the remains of his clothing and thrust it into the nearest Snape's hand.
Multiple Snapes blinked and frowned. One pulled his knobbly knees up to his chest and slung his arms around his legs, looking distinctly ill-at-ease and insecure.
"And now show us whether you still retain your ability to do magic," Voldemort commanded.
Dutifully, the Snape with the wand pointed it at the pile of rags. "Accio shirt." A piece of black material wriggled itself reluctantly free and half-heartedly dragged itself over to Snape's feet. The wizard picked it up and put it on. It hung in shreds from his thin shoulders. Snape looked neutrally up at Voldemort, awaiting another instruction.
Voldemort hissed in disapproval. "Too weak. Let another one try."
Snape obediently handed the wand to his nearest fellow, who stood up in all his naked glory and looked about with a wicked gleam in his eye. He pointed the wand at one of the Death Eaters and cried, "Crucio!"
"Ow," the other man complained, twitching to one side.
"Crucio!" Snape insisted, his arm extended and the lean muscles taut with the effort.
"Ouch, stop it," the Death Eater whined, rubbing at his back.
"Useless, the lot of you!" said Voldemort with extreme displeasure. He pointed his wand at a random Snape. "Crucio!"
The unfortunate duplicate screamed, his eyes rolling back into his head. One of the other Snapes whimpered and hid his face. A couple of others shot Voldemort venomous looks.
"Crucio! Crucio!" Voldemort cursed Snape after Snape until a good half-dozen of them were lying incapacitated and gasping on the floor.
The Snape with the wand, who was not among those who had been cursed, got caught up in the general spirit of things and turned a Cruciatus Curse of his own on one of his doppelgangers. After gripping his head briefly, the recipient glared at the initiator of the Curse, strode over, and snatched the wand out of his hand. "Stop it," he snapped. "What do you think you're doing?"
The Cruciatus-casting Snape shrugged and smirked sadistically. "It looked like so much fun.".
"Petrificus Totalus!" the now wand-wielding Snape growled at Sadistic-Snape, apparently deciding that, in the interest of self-preservation, it was better not to cast random Cruciatuses in a room full of armed Death Eaters.
Sadistic-Snape's body went stiff for a moment, but he remained standing and soon relaxed, crossing his arms across his bare chest and regaling the would-be attacker with a superior sneer.
"Enough!" Voldemort snapped. "A potion that produces Squibs by the dozen is of no use to me. Fix this mess--" He waved an angry hand at the array of naked Potions masters before him. "--and don't waste my time with such useless diversions again!" Directing one final Cruciatus at the nearest Snape, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
The remaining Death Eaters blinked at each other in surprise, then slowly and as inconspicuously as possible, slunk out themselves, leaving only the ten naked Snapes. Well, nine naked Snapes and one with the remains of what had once been a tailor-made shirt on his back.
"Oh God," Insecure-Snape gulped. He was obviously quite distraught.
"Get a hold of yourself," another one sneered down at him. "You are Severus Snape, after all."
"This isn't what I expected to happen," a third one fretted. "I know I followed the directions to the letter."
"Hmmm..." yet another Snape mused thoughtfully. "There are several explanations... However, the most important thing now is for us to get back to Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts!" Stickler-Snape exclaimed disapprovingly. "Don't you mean Spinner's End? That's where I-- Strictly speaking, we-- created the potion, and that must be where we will find the clues we need to reverse this disaster."
"That may well be," Smart-Snape conceded. "However, we are due to teach the second-years in a little over three hours. We will be unable to fix what has been done in that short time."
"I agree," chimed in a new Snape. "We mustn't shirk our duty."
"You underestimate our ability," remarked a Snape with a proud look. "We have yet to face a challenge that has been beyond us."
Stickler-Snape, who had just a moment ago argued so forcibly for returning to Spinner's End, seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before saying, "It is true that we have a contract to fulfill. That would seem to take precedence."
"Don't tell me you're going to give up that easily," protested Iron-Will Snape, the one who had told Insecure-Snape to get a hold of himself, aghast. "We have a directive, to fix this mess, and we have to follow through."
"You all can do what you want," snarled another Snape. "I for one am not going back to that dreary castle."
"But you must!" cried Self-Preserving-Snape. "We cannot allow ourselves to be split up!"
"That is none of my concern," the snarling Snape countered. "I'm going after that bastard of a Dark Lord. Thinks he can Crucio me and get away without a fight--" He stalked toward the door with revenge on his mind, snatching at the wand in Self-Preserving-Snape's hand.
Self-Preserving-Snape, however, refused to relinquish control of the wand and got into quite a tussle with Vengeful-Snape, during which bits wagged and swung with abandon. "I will only give this up to someone who has an idea of how to get us back together," he vowed, gritting his teeth.
"Quite," agreed Smart-Snape. "We must remain together. As we have seen, our magic has been diluted. I very much doubt that any one of us alone would have the magical strength to Apparate. And," he added sagely, "we only have the one wand among us."
All the other Snapes looked greedily at the one with the wand. He, in turn, stood his ground defiantly, giving Vengeful-Snape a particularly triumphant look.
"I propose that we join together and attempt to channel our magic into the wand for an Apparition to Hogwarts," said Smart-Snape.
"What...naked?" Insecure-Snape looked up despairingly at the others. He hugged his knees even more tightly. The others looked down their long and crooked noses at him with quite some disdain.
"Come on!" One of the Snapes pulled Insecure-Snape roughly to his feet. "It's not like we haven't all seen what you've got." He looked him over with a glare.
"His is smaller than the rest of ours," noted Sadistic-Snape archly, pointing at Insecure-Snape's genitals.
Insecure-Snape immediately crouched down again, looking up at Sadistic-Snape with a hurt expression.
Proud-Snape craned his neck to get a look at Insecure-Snape and then scrutinized his own privates. "There's nothing wrong with mine," he ascertained smugly.
"Stop being childish," Self-Preserving-Snape chided him, irritated. "We're all exactly the same, and now I say you all come over here and let's try what he said. It seems to be our best shot at getting back to normal."
Most of the Snapes seemed to agree, or at least they moved into a sort of cluster around the wand, everyone touching some part of it with a finger.
Insecure-Snape hung back until the others had their backs to him before scrambling to pick up the remains of his clothes and arranging them strategically about his person.
"Come along now, you, too," Smart-Snape said to Vengeful-Snape, who was scowling off to the side. "I promise you, if you want to get back at the Dark Lord--"
"Oh no, that would most definitely not be in our best interest," interjected Self-Preserving-Snape.
"Who cares about best interests," snarled Vengeful-Snape. "I just want to kick his arse around a bit, see how he likes it."
"As I was saying..." Smart-Snape raised his voice to be heard over the bickering. "As I was saying, you will not be able to achieve anything in your current state. None of us will. And I venture that we will need all of our magic in order to achieve a successful Apparation."
Vengeful-Snape stomped over to the group and roughly added his grip to the others on the wand, making his unwillingness clear.
"Now remember," intoned Stickler-Snape, "Destination, Determination, Deliberation--"
"Can we get on with it already?" snapped Vengeful-Snape. "I'm not going to waste my time listening to a lecture from you--"
Smart-Snape rolled his eyes. "Severuses, if you please? On my mark: One...two...three."
And with a somewhat wonky-sounding pop!, they disappeared.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
"I believe I understand now what has happened." Smart-Snape was sitting in his favourite chair before a roaring fire in his private quarters.
Stickler-Snape raised an eyebrow at him from the desk, where he had been poring over a pile of books. "You think so?" he asked suspiciously. "I've gone back over it a hundred times myself, and can't find a single point at which we deviated from the formula."
"I'm not talking about that," Smart-Snape retorted with a frown. "The point is immaterial of what exactly went wrong. It is much more pertinent that we recognize what state we are in now, and how to get back."
Insecure-Snape emerged at that point from the bathroom, where he had holed himself up with the scraps of clothing which the other Snapes had left him, causing several of the others to snigger and one to cackle outright (probably Sadistic-Snape).
As soon as they had arrived back in their quarters (after a breathless streak across the pre-sunrise, dew-kissed grounds), there had been a general scramble for items from the wardrobe. Most of them had managed to piece together fairly decent-looking wizarding ensembles, but two had had to resort to the Muggle costumes Snape kept on hand for eventualities, and a further one was wearing Snape's nightshirt. Insecure-Snape had been left with the dregs, and was currently wearing a pair of purple Muggle bathing trunks, two unmatched socks, and a Slytherin robe three sizes too small that a student had left behind in the Potions classroom two years ago after an accident with Bubotuber pus and never reclaimed. The yellowish splotches were testimony as to why.
Insecure-Snape frowned and whined petulantly in answer to his co-Snapes' mirth, "It's all there was left!"
"You look as pathetic as you are," Sadistic-Snape sneered. "I can't believe you're actually one of us."
"Nor can I," agreed Proud-Snape. "You were the one thing I was ever ashamed of."
Insecure-Snape looked quite hurt and wandered over to the window.
Smart-Snape looked back at Stickler-Snape without comment and resumed his earlier line of thought: "As I was saying, it appears that, rather than suppressing our so-called 'good' half, the potion divided our personality into ten facets, each housed in its own body. It is a quite remarkable thing to have happened, but, as our Master has already noted, also quite useless. For our magic was also divided, rendering us all but impotent."
"That's all well and good," Stickler-Snape retorted, "but it doesn't help us get back to how we were. If you all would help me look through these books instead of worrying about personality facets and fashion statements, we would come that much more quickly to a solution."
"Has anyone noticed that it's ten minutes to nine?" Dutiful-Snape piped up. He had been keeping a close eye on the magical timepiece on the desk and becoming ever more nervous as the minutes ticked away.
"That's right, we haven't had any breakfast yet. We should really eat in order to keep our strength up," Self-Preserving-Snape urged.
"I'm talking about class!" Dutiful-Snape cried, fairly wringing his hands in agitation. "We can't be late to class!"
"We also can't all teach it," Stickler-Snape remarked. "That simply wouldn't do to have ten of us standing up in front of the class."
Sadistic-Snape got a gleam in his eye. "It would scare the hell out of Longbottom, though."
"No, we cannot all go, that is clear," Smart-Snape agreed. "Why don't you go." He nodded toward Dutiful-Snape. "I trust you will keep the students in line. And you do look at least presentable."
Dutiful-Snape nodded smartly. He hadn't gotten the first pick of the clothes, but he was at least wearing a black robe; it is believed that he was wearing only a pair of long underwear underneath, but there was no need for that to be revealed during the course of a lesson.
"Agreed," said Stickler-Snape. "In the meantime, the rest of us can look through these books. He'll need the wand, though," he added, just as Dutiful-Snape was about to leave. "He must appear to class with a wand."
"Yes, I suppose he will," Smart-Snape sighed. "Go on, give it to him," he instructed Self-Preserving-Snape, who had still managed to retain possession of the wand.
Sadistic-Snape watched jealously as the wand changed hands.
"And for God's sake, please, the rest of you stay here," Dutiful-Snape admonished them. "Although, some of you might get started grading those third-year essays."
"Yes, yes," Stickler-Snape muttered, his nose already buried in his book again, "be off now, wouldn't want to be late, would you?"
"Hrmph." Sadistic-Snape rolled his eyes.
And with a final glare, Dutiful-Snape slipped out, making sure that the door clicked firmly shut behind him.
"Here, the rest of you, come over here and help me," Stickler-Snape commanded, indicating the pile of unopened books before him.
Several of the remaining Snapes complied, but Vengeful-Snape said with a snarl, "I most emphatically will not! I will not waste my time pawing through some dusty books. I may be without magic, but I haven't forgotten a certain shopkeeper's attempt to cheat us last week." He strode to the door.
"You're not-- But you can't!" exclaimed Self-Preserving Snape. "We mustn't be separated!"
The only answer was the quiet snap of the door falling into the latch.
"Let him go," murmured Smart-Snape, barely looking up from the book he had selected. "We'll be better off without him. And who knows, maybe he can really talk some sense into Sparks."
"I've also thought of something more useful I could be doing," said Sadistic-Snape with a wicked grin, and slipped out before anyone could say anything.
Self-Preserving Snape rounded on Smart-Snape. "Do you really think it best to let him wander about unattended? He's bound to do something quite ill-considered."
Smart-Snape looked at the door with narrowed eyes. "I suppose he is," he agreed. "But then he has no wand," he pointed out. "I dare say he won't be able to do much more than deduct a few House points."
Several of the other Snapes looked at each other uneasily.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
"Did you notice anything...odd...about Professor Snape?" Hermione asked Harry as they left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
"Other than the fact that he's a sodding, greasy bastard?" Ron muttered from behind them. He had cashed in twenty-five minus points in the course of the class, while Harry and Hermione hadn't been docked any, and he was feeling very much put-out.
"You mean the fact that he took points from Zabini for turning Parvati's hair into poison oak?" Harry asked. "Yeah, I did think that was unusual. He doesn't usually take points from Slytherin."
"Yes," Hermione agreed with a pensive frown. "And the fact that he only took ten points from Ron for having left his homework up in the dorm--"
"Oy!" Ron protested.
"Well, Ron," Hermione said in a know-it-all way, "you really should have checked that you had it with you before you came down. And ten points was only fair."
Ron grumbled something about fairness and his arse.
"But that's the point," Hermione continued. "It was fair. Last week he docked Neville twenty for the same thing. He was really...well...fair today. Don't you think?"
"I guess," Harry said with a shrug. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Hermione. Maybe he's realized what a git he's been and he's turned over a new leaf."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other and then said at the same time, "Not!" and laughed.
"No, seriously, Harry, I think there's something going on," Hermione said once she'd recovered her composure. "Did you also notice..." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I think he had on grayish...I don't know...jodhpurs, or something, underneath his robes."
"And this is of interest because...?" Harry inquired.
"Well, he always wears black trousers, doesn't he?" Hermione retorted, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.
Ron and Harry exchanged alarmed looks. "You actually notice what Snape wears?" Ron asked incredulously.
Hermione looked slightly self-conscious. "No, it's not that," she said fussily. "It just-- You see--" She clicked her tongue. "Oh, honestly, forget I mentioned it," she said, hurrying ahead of them. "Come on, we'll be late for Potions!"
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
That evening, the entire Great Hall was abuzz with complaints about Snape.
From Ravenclaw: "He took away fifty points because he said my owl shit on his head. I don't even own an owl!"
From Hufflepuff: "He gave me detention every Saturday until the end of term! How unfair is that? He knows the team haven't got a chance to beat Slytherin without me!"
From Slytherin: "Is he still our Head of House or what? I'm going to owl my father and believe you me, he won't take too kindly to what went on today."
And from Gryffindor: "See? I told you there was something going on with him," Hermione hissed across the table to Harry.
Harry poured a generous dollop of gravy onto his roast. "With who?"
"Professor Snape, of course! Haven't you heard everyone talking about him?"
Harry shook his head. "Not really." He craned his neck to get a look up at the Staff Table. "He's not even here."
Neville leaned across Ron to speak to Hermione. "I ran into him outside Greenhouse Two," he confided with wide eyes. "It was like he was waiting for me."
"Mm," Hermione said with a look that said she was trying to place the significance of that bit of information. "And what did he want?"
Neville shrugged. "Nothing, really, just said something about me being a sorry excuse for something-or-other--"
"That's terrible!" Hermione said sympathetically.
"It's no big deal," Neville said stoically. "But the point it, I know for a fact that he was teaching fifth-year Defense to the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs that hour," he finished, and Hermione raised her eyebrows triumphantly.
"Ah-ha!"
Ron frowned. "Ah-ha?"
"Ah-ha!" Hermione repeated with an emphatic nod.
"What does it mean?" Neville asked, and the rest of the Gryffindors nearby stopped eating to listen to Hermione's answer.
"It means..." she began. Then her face fell. "I don't know what it means."
The others looked at each other with puzzled expressions.
"But it means something, you can bet on that," she said grimly. "And I'm going to find out what."
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
Immediately after dinner, Hermione headed for the library. What was going on? Snape behaving fairly on the one hand, then worse than ever on the other hand. Docking points from his own House...seemingly being in two places at once...deviating from his usual wardrobe... It was all very confusing, but Hermione felt confident that if an answer were to be had, it would be found in the library.
She headed straight for the Restricted Section, not having any particular subject in mind, but feeling certain that where Snape was concerned, no run-of-the-mill magic was in play. And she was convinced that there was magic at the bottom of it.
She considered the possibility of a Time-Turner, especially in light of Neville's testimony that Snape had been in two places at the same time. As far as she knew, all the Ministry Time-Turners had been destroyed the previous year during their break-in at the Ministry, but that didn't mean there weren't unregistered instruments around, or that Snape hadn't achieved time travel by means of a spell.
But that wouldn't explain the seemingly bizarre behaviour, nor the altered wardrobe...unless they were dealing here not with a time traveller, but with a visitor from a parallel universe. Hermione got goose bumps just thinking about it. It was all speculation, of course, but the theory had been bandied about that travel between alternate time threads might be possible. Maybe an alternate Snape had found his way into their universe; one who wore grey jodhpurs and wasn't quite so snarky as theirs.
It was thus a very excited Hermione Granger who headed into the Restricted Section that evening, expecting to find something surprising, but perhaps not quite so surprising as what she actually did find there: A wizard with long, dark hair, huddled in her favourite reading nook, his robe pulled tightly about himself and...sniffling?
Hermione walked carefully closer. It looked like-- Could it be...? The man had his head buried in his arms, his legs drawn up underneath him. Muffled, hiccupy breathing sounds were audible, as if he were quietly crying.
Hermione stopped a few steps away from him. "Professor?" she said tentatively.
The man froze, then slowly lifted his head. His face was pale, and he looked startled. Skittish. Hermione couldn't be sure, because of the shadows, but it looked like his robe wasn't closed all the way, and that his chest was bare underneath it. She got a very uneasy feeling.
"Professor Snape?" she asked. "Are...you alright?"
"They sent me away," he replied in a small voice.
Hermione considered this for a moment, then, after deciding that it didn't make any sense yet, asked cautiously, "Who did?" The people from his time? From his universe?
"The other Severuses." He started to get choked up. "They didn't want me around, said I was useless."
"Oh." That didn't make things any clearer, in Hermione's opinion. In fact, she was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that Professor Snape had simply lost his mind. That wasn't nearly as exciting as a time traveller, and a good deal more frightening. She tried another tack. "And where are the other Severuses?"
"Most of them are down in our quarters. I'm not really sure. The vengeful one came back with a broken nose, so he might have gone to see Madam Pomfrey."
"Right," Hermione said slowly. "I think we should go see Professor Dumbledore."
"Oh, no!" Snape exclaimed in a stage whisper, a look of horror on his face. "He'll make fun of me, I--" He glanced down at himself. "I'm not dressed properly." He tried to pull the obviously too-small robe tighter around his chest.
"Yes, I had noticed that earlier," Hermione murmured, half to herself, then added, firmly, "I promise you, though, he won't make fun of you. Come on. I'll go with you and make sure."
Snape shook his head hastily. "No, you hate me, you and your friends from Gryffindor. They all hate me. You're just going to set me up for one of your pranks."
"Professor," Hermione said in a bossy tone, "I guarantee you that there is nothing further from my mind." Although I couldn't vouch for Harry and Ron, she added to herself. "I just want to help you. Professor Dumbledore will be able to help you. Come on now." She took a step back and nodded at him to join her.
Very slowly, Snape uncurled himself from his seat. Hermione was sore pressed not to laugh at the sight of the bathing trunks, but she had promised, and so she very straight-facedly stood aside and allowed her half-dressed professor to lead the way up to the Headmaster's office.