A/N: This was written for the Snape Bang 2020! Big thanks to the modmins at Snape Bang for hosting this fest! This would not be a fic if I hadn't had lots of help. First of all Vino Amore gave me the plot bunny for this one, thank you, my dear! Ravenpufflove, UrsulaHood, and Silver Lioness all spent some time beta'ing this story. Thank you lovelies!

This was originally posted to AO3 and I'm just now getting around to cross-posting it here.

LunaP999 created a gorgeous piece of artwork to go along with this. Find it on her Tumblr lunap999!

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Chapter 3: Who Is That Boy?


31 October 1998

Hermione watched Professor Black and the boy, Severus, closely. Severus seemed terrified of Professor Black, and it was strange to think that somehow the professor and this scared, shy, boy in front of her knew each other. Professor Black wasn't that old, she knew, but he looked and seemed as old as Professor McGonagall. A quick look to her former head of house and Hermione winced at the bewildered look on her face. Clearly, there was history here that she wasn't aware of, and as much as she was dying of curiosity to know it all, she was trying really hard to curb those impulses since the war. 'Insufferable know-it-all' had been quite a favorite insult from Professor Black these last few years, and Hermione was sick of hearing that particular insult, so she kept her mouth shut and her hand on Severus's shoulder, feeling him reel back in shock at the words coming out of Professor Black's mouth.

Severus looked up at the professor, peering close, "R-Regulus?" his brow was furrowed and Hermione squeezed his shoulder. He whipped his head around to look at her.

"He's telling the truth," she said. "That's Regulus. Sirius did die in the war a couple of years ago." She bit her lip, willing her eyes to not tear up. She hadn't been that close to Sirius, but Professor Black was… And Harry, of course, poor Harry who seemed to lose every adult he had ever become close to.

Severus glared at her and shook off her hand before turning back to Regulus with confusion written on his face. "If Sirius is dead, who else?"

Professor Black's jaw tightened and he sighed, settling further on top of the headmistress's desk, seemingly unaware of her glare at his back. "A lot of people died, Severus. Too damned many. It's… we need to figure out if we're going to be able to get you back to the past or not. How exactly did you get here?"

"I did a ritual," Severus mumbled. "It obviously didn't work."

"So no Time-Turner was involved?" Regulus asked.

"Not that there are any Time-Turners able to send him back," Headmistress McGonagall said sternly, casting her glare over Hermione. Hermione rolled her eyes. That stunt at the Ministry had been over two years ago, when Sirius died. She sighed. She hated thinking about the war and everyone they had lost, but it seemed inevitable that conversations like this were going to have to be had.

"If it wasn't a Time-Turner, then it's likely there won't be a way to send him back," Hermione added. "Time-Turners can go back and forth, but rituals usually are one way trips, at least from my research."

Professor Black offered her a small, half-smile. "You're right, Miss Granger. I'm assuming this wasn't a ritual to bring you into the future?" he asked Severus.

Severus shook his head, keeping his mouth shut, his jaw looking mulish.

"Then you are more than likely stuck here," Professor McGonagall said. "We'll have to get you sorted. You were in your seventh year?"

"I want to know who else is dead," Severus replied, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't quite so hunched over as he had been, but Hermione could see that he was still upset. She hadn't known him long, and while he was fairly adept at hiding his emotions, there was something about his eyes that she could see was deeply concerned.

"Who in particular?" Professor Black asked coolly.

"You aren't really going to humour this, are you?" Professor McGonagall interrupted. "Let's get him sorted and then his head of house can deal with it."

"I'm his head of house," Regulus replied. "He's going to be a Slytherin, no matter what that stupid hat says. So yes, I'll be humouring this. Besides, you may forget, Headmistress, but Severus and I were friends once."

"Lily," Severus said. "Please tell me Lily isn't dead."

Hermione could see that he knew the truth from the look on Professor Black's face. Headmistress McGonagall looked as severe as ever, but even her eyes got sad at the mention of Lily.

"No, no, no, no!" Severus shouted, standing suddenly. Hermione felt embarrassed for him when tears escaped his eyes as he shouted at Professor Black.

"Voldemort killed both Lily and James Potter on Halloween in 1981," Professor Black said in a monotone.

"L-Lily P-Potter?" Severus choked before collapsing suddenly to his knees.

Hermione was right there with him, putting her hand on his back, but Severus shrugged her off and snarled, "Get away from me." His eyes bulged and spittle flew from his mouth, he looked entirely psychotic.

She fell back onto her bum, shocked at the anger and rage in his face; her eyes widened as she took in his display of deep grief and emotion. How did he know Harry's mum? It was a mystery she definitely wanted to know the answer to, but at that moment, the headmistress got up from her seat and rounded her desk.

"Get up, Miss Granger," she said quietly. Hermione scrambled to her feet, still looking in shock at the boy heaped on the floor. The headmistress swept from her office, leading Hermione out to the corridor outside of the gargoyle. She shivered in the cooler air of the corridor and wrapped her arms around herself.


"Who is that boy?" Hermione asked Headmistress McGonagall after a few minutes of collecting herself.

She had never seen the headmistress look as weary as she did right then. "He's…" she shook her head, seemingly overcome. "He's a poor boy who is out of his time."

"I know that," Hermione snapped. "I meant, who is he in context of Professor Black, of Sirius; why does he know Harry's mum? Is what he said about Sirius and Harry's dad true? Was Harry's dad a bully?"

Sighing, McGonagall grabbed her upper arm and led her to a small ante-chamber just to the right of the gargoyle. Hermione had never seen this room before, it looked like a waiting room, likely for the Headmistress's office. There was a small tea set off to the side beneath a window and there were two comfortable looking sofas paired with a couple of armchairs. They looked like nicer versions of the ones in the Gryffindor common room.

"I don't remember as much as I should," Headmistress McGonagall said after she had poured tea for them both. Hermione took a tentative seat in an armchair near the sofa where the headmistress had settled and accepted her cup of tea. "But, yes, I do believe that Severus is correct. James and Sirius were… incorrigible in some ways. Both able to get away with more than we probably should have let them."

"We who?" Hermione asked, sipping the tea. It tasted a bit stale and she grimaced, setting the cup down. McGonagall drank hers though as if she didn't mind the taste.

"Albus and I, the rest of the professors, though" she sighed heavily, suddenly looking very old, "Albus and I probably share most of the blame. I was head of Gryffindor then and Albus was Headmaster. We both had the ability to curb both of their behaviors more than we did."

"What about Professor Lupin? And Peter Pettigrew? They were part of the Marauders too," Hermione said.

"Remus and Peter were absolutely part of it," McGonagall said, "but James and Sirius were the ring-leaders of that group. Both rich, pure-bloods, though only James was secure in his place in the world. Arrogant as Regulus always said. He wasn't wrong. James Potter was very arrogant, maybe more so than Draco Malfoy."

Here Hermione's eyes widened. She didn't think she'd ever met someone more arrogant than Malfoy. Harry's dad must have been a huge prat. "They sound like gits," Hermione replied, startling Headmistress McGonagall into a small chuckle.

"Och, they probably were gits, to Severus more than anyone else. As for the answer to your question, Remus as a werewolf likely felt lucky to just be included. And Peter was not nearly so powerful or popular as the other three, likely felt the same. Though given his… history, who knows?"

"Why didn't Headmaster Dumbledore stop them if they were so awful to Severus?" Hermione asked. The rose-colored glasses from her childhood had been removed back during fifth year when Sirius died. Hermione knew that adults weren't infallible, but even still, it seemed horrifically unfair that teachers, people who had the power to stop it, allowed bullying of any kind to happen.

"I don't know," McGonagall said, seeming small. "I'm sure Albus had his reasons, and well… in those days I was much less likely to question Albus's practices."

Hermione's lips tightened at that response it was… unsatisfactory, to say the least.

"He said he did a ritual and ended up here; what kind of ritual would cause that?" Hermione asked, changing the subject. The wheels were already turning in her mind about how to make Severus's seventh year better than his first six had been. She wouldn't let anyone bully him this year, or they'd be answering to her. She couldn't do anything about the past, but she was damned sure she would be doing something about the future.

"I'm not well-versed in ritual magic." McGonagall shook her head. "Hopefully Professor Black will be able to ascertain what ritual Severus performed. Though you were entirely correct, there isn't a ritual that will specifically send him back in time. He's likely stuck here."

"But why the Gryffindor seventh year girls dormitory? It doesn't make sense?" Hermione shook her head. She felt like the answer was right there on the tip of her tongue, but it was escaping her.

McGonagall just shook her head. "We'll have to wait for Severus to tell us why."


Dead. Lily was dead. His heart's desire was dead.

What kind of cruel world was this?

He had performed a ritual to bring him to his heart's desire and instead of bringing him to Lily it brought him to a future in which she didn't exist. Not only that, but she had also married James Potter. The thought alone had bile rising in his throat. He gagged, glad his stomach was empty and there wasn't anything for him to retch up.

"Here," Black handed him a glass of water. Severus took a greedy gulp and shifted so he was sitting on his bum, his back against the headmistress's desk. He felt more than saw Black settling next to him.

"I'm sorry," Black said. "Merlin, you have no idea how sorry I am. There's…" he trailed off.

"Did you do it?" Severus asked. His head was leaning against the desk front and he turned it to look at his former-friend. Salazar, he looked so old.

In response, Regulus lifted the sleeve of his left robe. There on his forearm was the mark that an hour ago, Severus had been dying to get. It looked as though it was fading, like an old tattoo. And if twenty years had truly passed; then it was an old tattoo. He ran a finger over the skull and Black shivered but didn't make a comment.

"Did it hurt?" Severus asked, looking forward again.

"Like a bitch," Black said. "Worst pain of my life, up until then at least."

Severus grunted. He wasn't scared of pain. "So he's dead. The war that Granger spoke of was it?"

"Yes, he's dead," Black replied. "It's a long story. But if you're up to it, I'll tell it to you."

"Maybe just the highlights," Severus replied. He was tired. Really, very tired. And his entire chest ached with the knowledge that Lily was gone.

So Black told him. He explained how Voldemort had targeted Lily and James and their son, Their son. But something happened and the son survived. Voldemort was gone though. Gone for fourteen long and seemingly peaceful years.

"What did you do?" Severus asked.

Black laughed. "I taught Potions. I'd already turned to the Order of the Phoenix after Voldemort used Kreacher to hide a Horcrux. I couldn't stand behind him after that. It was… horrifying."

"What's a Horcrux?" Severus asked with a furrowed brow.

"I forget how much there is that you don't know," Black sighed. "And I'm getting too old to be sitting on the cold floor for so long." He stood and offered Severus a hand up, which Severus took with a muttered thanks.

"Regulus, please call me my name. It's too weird to hear Black out of your mouth. Makes me think Sirius is still here."

"I'm sorry," Severus said. "I know he was your brother, but…"

"He was your tormentor. It's okay." Regulus clapped him on the shoulder and led him over to the small sitting area near the fireplace. "Let's have some tea, shall we?"

Severus nodded and Regulus called for a house-elf who brought in a tea tray full of sandwiches. It had been hours since Severus ate at this point and he was starving. He piled his plate full and ate while Regulus talked.

"The second war started back in 1994, though most say it started when my brother was killed in 1995."

"What happened to him?" Severus asked, swallowing another sandwich.

Regulus scowled. "A Horcrux is made when you kill someone and then take that rip in your soul and shove it into another object. Turns out, when you do that enough times, your soul rips with increasing ease. So when Voldemort went to kill the Potters, his soul ripped easily and part of it got lodged into the only living thing in the room."

"The baby?" Severus asked incredulously. "The baby was a Horcrux?"

Regulus nodded, looking vaguely ill. "Dumbledore was the only one to suspect that to be the case, but Harry had always had some sort of weird connection to Voldemort that was unexplained. During his OWL exams, Voldemort sent him a vision of my brother being tortured in the Department of Mysteries. "Potter's brat, being as arrogant as Potter was, ran off to London with his friends to try and free him."

"Sweet Salazar, why?" Severus asked, horrified. "Didn't anyone think it might be a trap?"

"Granger did," Regulus said with a slight laugh. "She was the brains of that group, but Harry didn't listen to her too often. Anyway. The kids got to the Ministry, and managed to make their way into the Hall of Prophecies that's where the boy saw Voldemort and my brother. Turns out there was a prophecy made that was about Harry Potter and Voldemort. Voldemort wanted that prophecy, but there wasn't a way he could get into the Ministry and get it, so he sent Potter. Then sent Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange and a few others to collect it from Potter. It was not pretty. Not even a little bit." Regulus grimaced here. "Bellatrix killed Sirius during the battle, but… it's a long story. Suffice to say that Sirius was persona non grata throughout wizarding Britain at the time."

"How many Horcruxes did he make?" Severus still couldn't quite bring himself to call the Dark Lord by name. Perhaps that was something that would come easier with time, but right now, it felt too much like sacrilege. He had been gearing up to join the Dark Lord as soon as he finished his seventh year. To find out that he was dead, and his best friend had fought on the side of Dumbledore… it was a lot to take in.

"Seven," Regulus said grimly. "He had five of them made prior to going to the Potter's house that night on Halloween."

"So many?" Severus asked. It was almost inconceivable. The murder alone made his stomach roil, but then to have to sever a part of his soul. The whole idea was so repugnant that Severus felt ill. He wished he hadn't eaten so many sandwiches. "How do you know all of this?"

Regulus sighed and glared at the sleeping portrait of Dumbledore. In a slightly louder voice, he said, "Dumbledore was a meddling old coot, but he pieced a lot of it together. He raised Harry Potter like a lamb for slaughter; then sent him off after Voldemort's Horcruxes with nothing more than his friends and hope. He should consider himself lucky that he's dead and I can't kill him all over again."

Dumbledore snorted but didn't awaken. Severus's eyes were wide as his gaze darted between his former friend and the headmaster. "Again?"

"Oh, yes, did I forget to mention that Dumbledore also manipulated me into killing him when he foolishly put on one of Voldemort's Horcruxes?" Regulus laughed humorlessly. "It was cursed, of course, nothing we did was going to save him. So he used his death as a catalyst for the war, ensuring that Harry wouldn't trust me. It was all quite neatly done."

"Sounds like a bloody disaster," Severus mumbled.

Regulus laughed a true laugh then and finally turned back toward him. "It was. It really, really was. We're lucky to have come out on top with as few losses as we did. And even then, some would tell you there were too many losses.

"So who else?" Severus asked. "Who else is dead? Potter, Black, and Lily. Dumbledore. Anyone else?" He steeled himself for the news.

"The first war was brutal. It didn't truly pick up until after your year had graduated, but it seems like most everyone in your year died either then or in the second war. Lupin and Pettigrew both in the second war. Mulciber and MacNair also in the second war. Rosier was a casualty of the first war though. Am I missing anyone?"

"My parents?" Severus asked, unwilling to look at his friend. While he knew they wouldn't have been involved in the war, it didn't seem like either of them would have lived another twenty years. Not with the way they had been going.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Regulus said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "They both died the summer after you disappeared. It was hard on your mum."

Severus nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. He had told himself that he was prepared for this, but the reality of it all hit him hard. He felt tired. He felt drained. He felt wrung out... and he had no idea what was going to happen now.

"If I can't go back," he said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady, "what do I do now?" His voice croaked painfully, and he ducked his head, hiding behind his hair, and scrubbing at his leaking eyes with one hand.

"You live," Regulus said. "You live the life that you didn't get to have the first time around. You live your young adulthood without the threat of a war hanging over your head. You live like we didn't get to. You finish your seventh year and go on to become a much more brilliant potions master than I could ever be." He said it so emphatically that for a moment Severus could see it; then the overwhelming doubt and uncertainty that he had lived with most of his life came sweeping back over him, and he shook his head.

Severus's nose stung with unshed tears and he sighed. Lily was gone. His best friend. The only thing good in his world was dead and gone. Did her son still go to Hogwarts? Severus didn't even know that. How was he supposed to ask that question without it being too intrusive?

Twenty-one years. He had missed twenty-one years of life, of cultural references, of societal progression. There were so many things he didn't know about this world. Not just the magical world, but what about the Muggle one? Twenty-one years must seem like an eternity in the Muggle world; it always had moved so much faster than the magical world did.

Severus choked around the lump in his throat. "I don't know how."