Chapter 3

Severus walked out of the office and saw the boy was riding the stairs to Dumbledore's office up and down. "Come along, Potter," he spat, "it's time to go."

"Where are we going, Professor Snape?" Harry asked politely as he reached the landing.

"Back to my house," Snape answered, leading them back to the office.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "it seems that you have travelled eight years in the future. As you might have deduced by now, you performed a feat of extraordinary magic. Professor Snape will answer any more questions you have once you get back to Spinner's End," he added as Harry was about to interrupt.

"Now," he continued, "we must find a way to send you back but in the mean time we deemed it appropriate that you go with Professor Snape. He knew your mother so I believe the two of you would have quite a bit to talk about." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

If Snape's glares could AK, Dumbledore would be dead sooner than he expected. Ignoring the shining look in the boy's eyes, Snape strode towards the fireplace and threw in the floo powder. He made to grab Harry but the boy pulled away.

"What is that stuff," Harry asked.

"Floo powder," Snape answered shortly, "it transports a person from one grate to another. Now hurry up, Potter, I haven't got all night."

Harry cautiously walked up and taking his chance, Snape grabbed him and pulled him along into the fireplace. Once again, the world began to spin.

The moment they arrived, the questions began. "What happened to my parents? Is what I did really magic? What was my mother's name? Was that place really a schoo – "

"Enough, Potter," Snape said, "it is late and I am tired. Therefore, you will hold your questions until tomorrow. Follow me."

Harry was dying to ask many many more questions but the adrenaline he had been running on soon wore off, replaced, by a terrible exhaustion that made him barely able to stand on his feet.

He followed Snape up a small staircase to a small room. Snape took out his stick and muttered something, causing sheets to appear on the bed. Harry's eyes widened as the stick now turned to him. He closed his eyes and felt a sudden rush of air. When he opened his eyes, he was in a fresh pair of pajamas.

"Goodnight, Potter," Snape said, closing the door behind him.

Harry blinked. Professor Snape was actually letting him sleep in a room? He had never slept in a place this big before. He looked around in awe at the gray paint peeling off the walls and ceiling. Other than the bed, there was an old wooden wardrobe and a desk that looked out through a window. It was too dark to see what was outside.

Harry was much too tired to explore anymore so he slowly lay down in the bed, his head comfortable touching a soft pillow, and closed his eyes. He thought about Professor Snape.

The man had been kind to him when he had first found him, but Harry noticed that the moment he had told him his name, the professor had become cold and distant.

Still, the man had saved him, given him hot chocolate and was now allowing him to stay in his house in an actual room. He couldn't be so bad, Harry decided, yawning widely. He was asleep a moment later.

Harry woke up groggily the next morning, wondering why Aunt Petunia hadn't woken him up yet. He grabbed his glasses from where they had been lying near his pillow and blinked as he took in his surroundings. This certainly wasn't his cupboard. Suddenly, yesterday's events hit him like a ton of bricks. He had somehow travelled to the future and was now staying with a mysterious man who apparently had known his mother. And he could do magic!

The last traces of sleep leaving him, Harry put on his socks and padded down the stairs. In the daylight, it was easier to see the small house. The living room where he had been yesterday was small, and covered with shelves of books lined around all the walls, and even cluttered parts of the floor. An old, threadbare armchair and a faded sofa sat near a cozy fireplace.

The smell of eggs frying led Harry's stomach to the kitchen where Professor Snape was waving his stick around. Harry watched in awe as two plates flew from a cabinet and set themselves down neatly on the table.

"Er," Harry said to get his attention.

Snape turned around and glared at him. "What are you waiting for, Potter. Sit down."

Harry obediently took a seat on one of the chairs as the eggs flew onto a platter near the sausages.

Snape took a seat across from Harry. "Well, Potter, are you going to eat or just stare at it?" Snape spat.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said quietly and took an egg and a sausage from the platter.

"Potter, I couldn't care less about your picky eating habits but Dumbledore will not like it if I starve you." Snape said, putting a couple more of each in Harry's plate before taking his own food.

Harry stared down at his plate. The Dursleys had never starved him but he had never been given this much. If there was anything extra, Dudley always took it. Quickly and hugrily, Harry began shoveling the food into his mouth.

"Try to eat like a human being," Snape said wryly.

Harry blushed, embarrassed. What must the professor think of him!

Snape watched Potter as he ate; now slowing down his pace. The boy never once looked up, continuing to stare down at his plate of food.

"He looks so thin," Dumbledore had sighed, "just as he did when he first came to Hogwarts. Make sure he eats well, Severus."

"Of course, Headmaster, I shall be at Potter's beck and call if there is anything he may need," Snape had said sarcastically.

The boy suddenly looked up and once again, Snape was met with the brilliant pair of green eyes. He scowled and proceeded to ignore Potter by reading the Prophet.

Harry waited for Professor Snape to finish before picking up both their plates and taking them to the sink to wash.

Snape looked up from his newspaper, startled at the sound of water running. He looked over and saw that Potter was washing the dishes. He stared for a few moments before deciding to let this enigma be.

Once Harry was finished he sat back down on his spot awkwardly, wondering what to do next. He wished the Professor would look up at him but he seemed engrossed in his newspaper and Harry knew better than to disturb someone who was reading the newspaper.

Harry looked closely, wondering what the professor was reading. He could make out a picture of a boy on the front cover. Wait, did the boy just move? Harry rubbed his eyes; he must have been seeing things. But when he looked again, he couldn't see the boy.

"P – Professor," he stammered, "are the pictures… what's wrong with the pictures?"

Snape quickly turned the paper over and saw what Harry had been looking at. He quickly closed the paper and folded it, knowing better than to allow the boy to see anything to do with his future self.

"The pictures are magic, Potter. They move," he said.

Harry stared hard at Snape, trying to will himself not to ask any questions.

Snape sighed. "Come along, Potter. Let's get this over with."