Chapter 4:

'You do realise', snarled Snape, as they marched towards the forbidden forest, 'that you are responsible for this entire fiasco? Or has that idea, like so many others, failed to penetrate your thick skull?' The two men had been walking side by side in silence, but the potion master's impotent fury at their situation had overcome his reluctance to acknowledge the boy's presence.

'I don't think so, Snape', said Harry, between clenched teeth, not taking his gaze from the trees in front of them. 'You were the one who tried to steal the time-turner'.

The older man turned abruptly, the invisibility cloak slipping to the ground as he stopped the younger in his tracks.

'I beg you pardon, Potter, but I will not tolerate such insolence.' He paused to draw in a steadying lungful of air before continuing, his voice made even deeper by anger. 'You will address me as sir, or I'll have you scrubbing cauldrons for a month.'

At this, Harry suppressed a smirk, answering 'sorry to disappoint you, sir, but term ends in less time than that.'

Snape gave a sneer in reply, stepping closer to the boy and leaning over to emphasise the difference in height.

'I don't care, Potter, I'll lock you in the dungeons if I feel like it.' His eyes took on an extra glint of malice as he added 'it's not like you have anywhere else to go.'

This barb hit home, and an incensed Harry was on the verge of shouting, or hexing the gut, when the rain began. He felt the first drops land on his head, burying underneath the unkempt hair to prick his scalp like icy needle-points. Harry watched in abstract fascination as a large drop slid smoothly down his professor's forehead, traversed the protuberant nose like a lover, leaving tiny kisses of moisture behind it, and then dripped reluctantly to the turf below.

Under the increasingly heavy downpour, Snape turned and strode away, knowing the boy had no choice but to follow. Harry scooped up the cloak and strolled defiantly behind, looking nonchalantly up at the overcast sky as he did so. By the time he reached the shelter of the trees, Snape had performed a drying spell on himself and was staring impatiently at him, radiating anger. The atmosphere in the forest, Harry noted, was much different to that of the grounds. The pervading smell of wet foliage was fresh and oddly intoxicating, whilst raindrops made everything glisten, lending the place a gentle mysticism which jarred with his previous experiences of the forest. Wanting to annoy his professor as much as possible, he ignored Snape completely , his gaze instead following a trail of ivy winding around the rich bark of a nearby tree. Reaching the top, he marvelled at the roof of leaves above him, dark and light shades of green intertwined, almost malevolently shutting the light out and keeping him in. Eyes adjusted to the gloomy environment, he watched raindrops, made fat by gathering on the leaves above, fall heavily down onto the greasy hair of his teacher.

'So much for the drying spell', Harry thought humorously, realising only too late that he was grinning stupidly at one of the men he hated most in the world.

Seeing his expression, Snape scowled and walked away, hoping that this time the brat would keep up, and resolutely not thinking about how Potter had looked, all wet and innocent, smiling at him. He had succeeded in quashing the strange levity that had arisen in his heart when, to his surprise, the boy appeared at his side.

'I do have somewhere to go', said Harry, bristling at the memory of the man's earlier comment. 'Not that it's any of your business, but I'm staying with Ron until the Order leave Grimmauld Place.' There was an unconscious note of joy in his voice as he contemplated a Dursley-free future.

The darkest side of Snape, the snarling, wounded beast that lived in the corner of his mind, couldn't resist the urge to quash this happiness in his pupil.

'I'm sure Mr Weasley and Miss Granger will be delighted to accommodate you,' drawled the potions master's gravely voice.

Harry coloured and sniped back, his angry voice rising above the beating of the rain on the ground around them.

'At least I have friends to stay with! Is that why you needed the time-turner? So you could actually be liked at school; is that it, Snivellus?' It was a cheap shot, one that he wouldn't have stooped so low as to do if he hadn't be so enraged by what Snape implied. Apparently he had had the same effect on the older man, as for the second time that day he swerved to face Harry, face contorted with fury.

'For your information, Potter, I needed that to try and protect your worthless life!' he spat, eyes flashing dangerously. 'If I could have gone back and prevented my discovery as a traitor by the Dark Lord, I could have aided the Order instead of being assigned to watch over you, forced to be subject to your blithering idiocy more than usual! For the past six months we have been unable to predict what the Dark Lord will do next, and every day of that was spent in despair, knowing that you were supposed to save us all!'

Harry stepped back, away from the man's flailing arms.

'And then,' continued Snape, who had surrendered to his rage, I am deprived of any sense of relief on unexpectedly discovering a Death-Eater free future by the revelation that I am to fall madly in love with Harry-worse than his father-Potter! Who, incidentally, is responsible for this ENTIRE FIASCO!'

This shout seemed to disturb something deep in the forest, and Harry looked on in shock as his professor ended the rant and gasped for breath. Despite every instinct telling him to run away, fast, he had to voice the thought that had occurred to him.

'You were going to change the past? But how could you have done that without being seen by anyone, or harming you future self in the process?' His tone of voice made it plain that this was more out of curiosity than concern.

'I couldn't have, you fool' sighed Snape, his paling face expressing regret. 'I would have had to live the next six months seen by no-one, and with what I hoped to achieve there was no way I would have escaped detection. Moreover, time-travel that far back is extremely inexact, one could end up 5o years back when one aimed for 50 days.'

Harry's mouth opened to speak but Snape pre-empted the question.

'I was desperate, Potter. Something I'm sure you, with your legions of fans, will never understand. I'm useless, I can't help the Order in any real capacity, and scores of letters arrive at the castle every day from idiotic parents who don't want a Death Eater teaching their precious brats.'

Snape seemed exhausted, slumping backwards to lean on the nearest tree, long streaks of wet black hair framing his face as he looked bitterly down at the ground. Harry was stunned at how human the man appeared, and words stuttered out of his mouth before he realised what he was saying.

'I know… I thought I could… when Sirius….' He trailed off, unable to express what he had begun in his empathy. This didn't seem to matter however, as Snape's obsidian eyes looked straight into his, connecting with him for one brief second.

In the next, however, he stood up straight and shook out his sodden robes.

'Of course', he said, face contorted into its customary sneer, 'travelling to the future has proved infinitely worse than that.'

The pair resumed their journey into the heart of the forest, neither speaking to the other. Somewhat ironically, it was this heavy silence that saved them, as both men were able to hear the snapping of twigs that signalled something large moving in their direction. Instantly, they drew their wands and faced in its direction, but neither was truly prepared for the sight that crashed into view.

The last of Hagrid's Blast-Ended-Skrewts, it was more than the hairy giant could have ever envisioned. It had grown to over 30 feet in length, and every move it made shook the nearby forest floor, causing all manner of strange creatures to flee from their hiding places. Torn branches littered its grey armour, over which a giant sting arched, twitching menacingly. Both men were overcome with shock, but realised that due to the speed it had approached there was no hope for them if they ran, and so readied themselves for the fight.

Meanwhile, the future Harry and Severus were happily ensconced in the latter's office, reminiscing about their own experiences in the previous year.

'Well, it was your own fault', chuckled Harry, his head on the older man's lap. 'Besides, its hardly fair for you to scold me for having a temper.' At this, Snape looked disapprovingly down at his lover.

'That's hardly the point. My lack of decorum should not have been an excuse for you, and you were my pupil at the time.' Despite his words, he ruffled Harry's hair fondly, not wanting to admit that one of the things he loved most about the boy was the fire that shone through when he was angry.

'What do you suppose we were doing at this time last year?' mused Harry, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of Severus's clothing. Snape glanced at the clock with a grimace -he could never look at the odious thing with a neutral expression- and replied:

'I think we were being beaten senseless by that hideous beast of Hagrid's. I wonder what ever happened to that thing?'

'What?', cried Harry, jumping to his feet in a panic. 'You were supposed to tell me before that happened! How could you forget?' One glance at the older man's expression told him that he had done no such thing. 'Did you want to get us killed?' questioned Harry in disbelief, feeling somehow betrayed.

'No, we will be there in time', replied Snape softly, retrieving his cloak from its hanger. 'I could not risk us arriving early and changing something by accident.'

'So that's why it took so long for us to be rescued, because you were reluctant to change something?' Harry's voice took on a sharper edge, 'don't you remember the agony we were in, the time it took to heal?'

Snape moved over to where the younger man was standing and took his right hand in his. He moved it to his lips and kissed it softly, then looking into the boy's eyes and replying: 'and don't you remember what happened because of it?'

Seeing the logic of this statement, Harry used the fact that Severus' hand was still in his to pull the man into a quick embrace before running out of the door and towards the forest.

The giant stinger thwacked into the ground beside Harry, and he thanked his Quidditch-honed reflexes for enabling him to roll out of the way in time. To his left, Snape had been knocked against an oak tree, and was struggling to clear his vision of dark spots. The sting came down one more, forcing him to leap out of the way, feeling every bruise on his body as he did so. It felt like they had been fighting the beast for hours, and neither of them had come close to finding a weakness, as the soft underbelly that Harry had exploited during the tri-wizard tournament had been replaced by another growth of armour. The Skrewt charged once more, a deadly thunder of scale and claw, yet to his relief seemed to miss both of them with ease. It was only too late that Harry realised it had actually aimed for a nearby tree, and had succeeded in severing it from its base. An increasingly loud creaking noise gave Harry warning that it was headed towards him, and there was a rushing sound as he threw himself to the ground, followed by a blinding pain in his leg. Unable to move, he feebly lifted his head up from the mud, and cursed the fact that his wand now lay in a puddle out of reach. A few yards away, the exhausted Snape staggered towards him, trying in vain to lift the tree with his depleted magical energy, but eventually collapsing, spent, on the forest floor. Looking beyond the prone figure, Harry saw the Skrewt preparing for its final charge, one that would surely be the end of them both. He began to thrash around madly, unwilling to give up hope of escape, but the excruciating agony from his damaged limb grew to much to bear, and he faded from consciousness. The last thing he remembered was an enormous flash of purple light, that exploded from somewhere behind him to bathe the entire forest in its glow, accompanied by shouting and the undignified squeals of the injured beast.

Sure that the Skrewt would not return, the lovers looked down at their past selves, horrified with the extent of their injuries. Severus grabbed Harry's hand once more, this time to steady him, and they stood pensively for what seemed like an eternity, each flooded with memory. Then, with meticulous care, they gathered up the two unconscious wizards and levitated them to a private room in the infirmary.

For the rest of the day neither Harry nor Severus could refrain from contemplating the battles that the pair in the infirmary still had to fight; against Voldemort, against each other, and against their own natures.

Hi! Sorry this has been so long, but I've had work to do. (sigh) I'm going to try very hard to update this more often. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, not sure I did it particularly well, so please tell me what you think! Also, it's my birthday today, so please please review- they make me so happy! (yes, I know, I need a life..) Have a good week!