"Severus?" A voice called his name over the flapping of several pairs of wings.
Severus opened his eyes and swallowed the urge to gasp as he saw the familiar stone walls of Hogwarts. Instead, he sucked in a breath and started coughing, swallowing wrong in his surprise.
There were no long-dead people, no white-washed surroundings, just his fellow professors. The sun was shining, there were no Death Eaters, besides himself, at the table. It wasn't entirely unexpected. It could even be considered par for the course after his meeting with the Goddesses. Severus was still shocked to find that he was seated at the staff table with an absolutely and without a doubt not-dead Albus Dumbledore who was staring at him with concern.
"Are you all right?" Albus asked, bushy eyebrows arched in inquiry.
Severus tried to reply but kept coughing instead. He nearly gagged between his hacking coughing and the faint taste of blood left on his tongue from his brief brush with Death.
The Astronomy professor, Aurora Sinistra, sitting to his right, tried patting him on the back to help him breathe better.
"Breathe, man," Aurora thumped him between the shoulder blades a little harder.
"Do stop that, Aurora. Here, Severus," Poppy Pomfrey said. She pulled a vial of something pearlescent and bright blue from a pocket in her skirt. "A throat soother." She stood from her chair to lean over the table and offered the small vial. "Something to calm that cough."
He couldn't stop coughing for a long moment, finally taking the offered vial and knocking it back in between rasping breaths.
Severus was back. Alive. And somehow back in the sun-drenched staff meeting room of Hogwarts.
"My apologies." Severus's voice was a croak as he let the soothing potion work its literal magic. "I am fine," he said in a more normal tone as it took effect. It had the blessed effect of also tasting like honey and ginger, wiping the coppery taste of blood away.
At the large window behind Albus, a raven cawed thrice and took wing into the sunshine-filled sky.
Severus looked around, seeing the whole staff of teachers staring at him with various degrees of concern and curiosity. Quirrel was present, so Severus surmised that he had indeed been sent back to nineteen-eighty or ninety-something. The breeze coming in through the window was cool and dry, heralding the summer.
"Would you like a Pepper-Up Potion?" Poppy offered, scooting her chair back to the table and sitting down.
"No, no." He cleared his throat a final time and dipped his head in acknowledgment to both Aurora and Poppy. "Thank you, Poppy," He waved away the concern. "I am well."
"You're quite welcome." Poppy smiled at him.
His coworkers were still staring at him.
"What? Have you never seen a man cough before?" he snapped. He cleared his throat again.
"Oh good, he's back to normal," Aurora said with a roll of her eyes. She laced her fingers together on the table before her and turned her attention back to the head of the table.
"Good. Now, as Minerva was saying..." Albus pulled the table's attention back to himself and motioned to where Minerva sat on his left.
"We seem to be having trouble getting Mister Potter's acceptance letter to him." Minerva rested her joined hands on the table before her and frowned. "We've owled over a dozen letters to his home, more than that to be quite frank, as well as to an odd hotel in Cokeworth, the Railview Hotel, and none have been opened or responded to."
Severus frowned as he realized it was 1991 and the prepubescent bane of his existence was the topic of conversation.
"Someone will be sent to hand-deliver it." Albus continued the line of thought. "Now, Hagrid," Albus motioned to the end of the table where Hagrid sat stood, pink umbrella in hand, "has business in London tomorrow."
Sensing the chance, however slim the margin of opportunity was, Severus cleared his throat with purpose and pursed his lips in irritation as everyone stared back at him as if he were going to explode.
"Yes, Severus?"
"Headmaster, I would volunteer to fetch Mr. Potter from his relatives' house."
Severus scowled at the various expressions and murmurs of surprise.
"Really?" Albus seemed shocked. "I would think-"
"I have a history with the boy's family," Severus cut in smoothly. "With his aunt in particular."
"While that is true," Albus started to say, "Hagrid-"
"Is nowhere near as equipped as I to deal with that particular branch of the Potter family," Severus cut in.
"Well, now," Albus began.
"What a splendid idea, Severus," Minerva cut in, smiling across the table at Severus. "He's been raised by Muggles after all. A familiar face would be a boon to the family."
"That is true." Albus's lips turned down in a frown, but he nodded in agreement.
"It's been years since I've seen Tuney," he said. "I'm as likely to get a warm welcome as anyone." Severus felt as if he were stretching the truth to the breaking point.
"If you are willing, Severus, I would be foolish not to take you up on your offer. You will, no doubt, help take the boy for his supplies?"
"If the family wishes it, of course, Headmaster." Severus's imagination made vivid the possibilities of a bratty eleven-year-old.
"I will give you a copy of his acceptance letter and his vault key. And do be gentle with the boy's family. I trust you to keep them close in Diagon Alley," Albus said, eyes twinkling in amusement.
"Of course, Headmaster." Severus kept his expression neutral. One could only imagine Petunia Dursley neé Evans in Diagon Alley. "As close as they wish."
"This is most unexpected." Albus smiled at Severus. "But a welcome change of plans nonetheless."
"To the next matter, as we are speaking of change." Minerva motioned down the table to where Professor Quirinus Quirrell sat.
Quirrell's eye set to twitching as Severus scowled at him. His purple turban was wound in place and the pale professor waved meekly at the assembled staff.
"Indeed, Quirinus will be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts this term." Albus offered his congratulations with a small clap of his hands.
There was a smattering of applause for the announcement.
Severus scowled fiercely, but not entirely for the reason that the assembled assumed. He was rather put out that he lost the position he wished for yet again. Even though he knew it to be coming it was a disappointment. But more, now that he knew the Dark Lord hid under that rather smelly turban, the fact that the man had any place in Hogwarts made his blood pressure rise to the point where a headache started to form.
"Good on ya, Professor Quirrell!" Hagrid said, clapping as well.
"As that change is necessary with Patricia's retirement, Professor Parker Marlowe, formerly of Ilvermorny, will be joining us as the Muggle Studies professor. They will be joining us before the start of term. I expect that the change will be an interesting one, as they are bringing a lot of Muggle technology with them."
Severus imagined Parker Marlowe to be an older gentleman, one who only knew of technologies long out of date. He smothered amusement at the thought of his new colleague trying to bring an eight-track player. Maybe even a toaster oven. Severus nearly snorted at the thought of a wizard encountering something as useless as a rubber duck, a Koosh ball, or a pet rock.
"Now then, to the next matter…"
It took another two and a half hours for the staff meeting to end.
Severus was ready to hex himself silly by the end of it just to escape. It was absolutely turning into one of those days. It was even a Monday. The last he knew, it had been the early mornings of Saturday, the second of May in 1998. Being back in midsummer 1991 was a bit of shock to the system.
"Severus, a moment, please," Albus called for his attention as everyone filed from the room.
"Of course, Headmaster." Severus rose from his seat, waiting until the room cleared to cross his arms over his chest and adopt a neutral expression before the man he had murdered. "What is it?"
"I am most surprised, my boy." Albus shut the door behind Filius Flitwick and Minerva. "I would think that this would be a task that you would be most anxious to avoid."
"As I have said, I have a history with the Evans side of the family." Severus felt the tickle of Legilimency as he met Albus' gaze. It was disconcerting how often the Headmaster looked into his mind.
He Occlulded strongly, pushing his now-pounding headache, as well as his irritation at the thought of losing the Defense Against the Dark Arts position yet again, to the forefront. The distraction from his encounter with the Morganian sister worked. Albus looked away, towards the window where another bird had landed and begun to sing.
"I am most surprised, given the whole of his parentage, Severus," Albus said. "He is Lily's son, to be quite sure, but he is just as much James' son."
"I would think you would seek to remind me that young Mister Potter is his own person, with his own merit and mind." Severus frowned. "I also have insight to the Muggle side of his family that others, such as Hagrid or Minerva, might not."
"Are you sure you wish to do this, Severus?" Albus asked again. "I could just as easily send Hagrid to fetch him."
"I am certain." Severus turned away to exit the room, ending the awkward conversation. "Please excuse me. I do need a Headache Reliever before my head sees fit to explode."
"Of course, my dear boy. And do be gentle with the boy when you fetch him tomorrow," Albus said.
"I shall, of course, act with the utmost discretion, Albus." Severus dipped his head in agreement. "Though I cannot promise he will be overly fond of me. If you will excuse me."
Severus slid from the room, hurrying down the corridor towards the staircases only to stop short when Hagrid suddenly hollered his name.
"Professor Snape, sir! Do ye have a moment?" Hagrid clutched his umbrella in both hands and smiled brightly behind his bushy beard.
"A moment, only, Hagrid. What do you need?
"I've somethin' for young Harry. I made a cake for him and would be most obliged if ye could give it to him." Hagrid started fidgeting under Severus's dark stare.
"I will be certain to stop by before I depart to pick up your gift," Severus assured him incline of his head.
"Thank ye, Professor Snape, sir!" Hagrid beamed and trundled away, down a staircase that began to move as he made his way down them. "Dratted stairs," Hagrid grumbled to no one in particular.
Severus had a set destination in mind. Rather than make his way to the dungeons, and the relative safety of his quarters, he hurried instead for the upper stairs. He headed for the one person he believed he could confide in without reproach. He hastened through the castle, climbing up another two flights of stairs to reach his destination in Gryffindor Tower.
Severus knocked on the door, waiting until the occupant within called for him to enter.
"Minerva, I find myself in need of your help." Severus shut the door to her office behind him.
"Severus?" Minerva's tone was full of questions. "My help? I am, of course-"
"No, no. Don't agree until I tell you why I need your help." Severus cut her off. "My tale is one you are not likely to believe on the first telling."
"Well, come in, then," Minerva said, moving away from her desk and motioning to the door to her sitting room. "We'll have a cup of tea."
"That would be acceptable." Severus followed her from the room.
Severus waited patiently for Minerva to put a kettle on, ready the teapot, and prepare the tray for tea.
"Now then, what had you away with the faeries in the middle of the start of term meeting?" Minerva poured the hot water into the waiting teapot, careful not to splash the bright red cozy around it.
"I want you to know that everything I am about to say is true." Severus was anxious, squeezing his hands together in his lap. "I would swear an oath to it if you would need me to."
"I assumed it would be." She waved a hand towards a pair of overstuffed chairs nestled in front of the fireplace. "Do sit, Severus. And there's no need for an oath."
"It is not a happy story I have to tell." Severus took a seat in the right-hand chair. "And last I knew, it ended with Harry Potter's death and the loss of the Light to Lord Voldemort."
"Voldemort?" Minerva set down the tray at the small table between the two chairs. A flick of her wand and a quick spell had a heatless fire roaring in the fireplace, cooling the room and casting dancing shadows across the walls.
"Go on then." Minerva poured tea for the two of them.
It took three hours for Severus to tell Minerva everything. It was dark now and past supper time.
He started at his accidental betrayal of the Potters, then told of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal of the same. He told her of his own promise to Albus. She didn't interrupt, other than to pour more tea when his cup ran low. He told her everything he could recall, every last detail of Potter's life at Hogwarts-even his attack on Draco. Severus told her everything up to his death and beyond. He spoke of the goddesses he encountered in the gloaming of his life, Lily's forgiveness, and his promise to help Harry for his own sake.
"So," Minerva said, a few moments after Severus finally fell silent, "you have been given a second chance."
The fire crackled merrily, a log breaking in half and sending a shower of bright sparks up the chimney. It cast warmth into the room as the room had grown cool upon the setting of the sun.
Minerva set her teacup down, watching Severus do the same. His hands were visibly shaking and he pressed his fingers together again to quell the motion.
"Yes." his voice was slightly hoarse from all his talking. He leaned forwards and clasped his hands before him in his lap. "I don't know what I am going to do. Not alone. And that is where I need your help."
"My help?" Minerva asked. "How can I help you?"
"Are you looking for a specific task or a general idea?" Severus asked for clarification.
"General is fine, Minerva said. "The worst we can do is make plans that go awry. Merlin only knows what havoc those goddesses would wreak upon attempts to change too much."
"Agreed." Severus dipped his head in emphasis. "However, the boy will likely be sorted into Gryffindor," Severus kept squeezing his hands together again. "Like his parents."
"And that would make me his head of house." Minerva nodded to herself. "An interesting choice for the boy, to be sure."
"Yes. And that will present its own unique challenges as he has hardly had a normal upbringing."
"They were as I feared then?" Minerva asked.
"The worst sort of Muggles. Those that didn't think themselves in the wrong in the slightest." Severus scowled. "And, truly, I don't want the boy to die." Severus let the tears burn before raising one still-shaking hand to his throat. "I don't want to die. Not again. Not like that."
Minerva rose from her seat and crossed the small space between them. She stood next to Severus's chair and gently pulled him close in an embrace.
Severus shut his eyes a moment, enjoying the contact. It was far better than the nearest recollection that felt like only moments ago; a cold floor and the agony of Nagini's attack. He didn't quite realize he was crying.
Minerva let him go, set a hand atop his shoulder, and squeezed his shoulder gently.
"What was that for, Minerva?" Severus looked up at her.
"Severus," Minerva's tone was gentle, "you died. And you're crying. Do you think me that stoic?"
"No, I just-" he scrubbed away more tears, turned his face away from her.
"My, dear, dear man, if only half of what you just told me is true-" Minerva started to say.
Severus spun his head back around. "No! It is, I swear it's true, Minerva, and-" Severus stopped when she held up a hand.
"I believe you, Severus." Minera offered him a gentle smile.
Severus let out a trembling breath. "Thank you."
"And I believe it was heartbreaking for you. Even though you hold no love for Harry Potter."
"No love?" Severus sputtered. "The boy was a thorn in my side incessantly the last seven years, but Minerva, he was raised for slaughter! And he, the Headmaster I mean, Albus..." Severus scrubbed his hands over his cheeks to wipe away more tears. "Albus," he repeated, "I can't respect him anymore! He-he raised a child to fight for him, to die for him. Made me his murderer! He turned this school into a chessboard and we are all pieces in his fight against the Dark Lord."
"I'm certain Albus does not mean to put anyone in danger." Minerva was uncertain, even as she said it.
"Please," Severus scoffed. "You know what he has asked of us with the Sorcerer's Stone. It's a test. For either the Longbottom boy or Potter, to see which one is more worth his attention. And all of this, all of this could be solved if he just admitted he knew that the Dark Lord, that Vol-damn it, that Tom fucking Riddle isn't truly dead!"
Minerva nodded, resting a hand on his shoulder again.
"Take a breath, Severus. You'll overwork yourself."
Severus took several calming breaths and continued.
"He knows they're abusive towards him. The Dursleys, I mean." Severus huffed a breath.
"The first letter was addressed to a cupboard under the stairs," Minerva said, thoughtfully.
"As you said in the staff meeting. But, who? Who does that? Who sends a child to die, knowingly?" Severus asked, being completely rhetorical. "Who makes someone who looks, no, looked up to him, and trusted him, help another child plot his murder?" Severus shrugged off Minerva's hand and rose to pace the room.
"He will endanger the entire school multiple times. He used me, used my regard, my love for Lily to play me like a pawn just like he does you. I-it's-he's terrible! He says it's for the greater good, but he makes himself a martyr in the end. And Draco is just as used. And Albus simply puts all this weight on the shoulders of a pair of teenagers and his friends. It's not right, Minerva!"
There was a beat of silence as Minerva crossed the room, stopping short of Severus and looking at him with a sad smile.
"You must have been holding that in for a while." Minerva turned away and crossed the room to a cabinet on the far side of the sitting room. Silently, she pulled an old crystal decanter and a pair of drinking glasses from it.
"A while?" Severus collapsed back into the chair, rested his head in one hand. "Oh, not long." His voice was thick with sarcasm. "Just the entire bloody time. Maybe from when I was shanghaied into murdering Albus in front of a bunch of assholes I should have never fallen in with in the first place."
"Or?" Minerva needled, pouring two fingers worth into each glass. She passed the glass to him and set the bottle between them on the table next to their teacups.
"Or when Peter Pettigrew got the Potters killed, to begin with, eleven years ago now, and Albus didn't listen to you when you tried to warn him not to leave the boy with them in the first place," Severus admitted. "Maybe when I got word that Potter had been left on a doorstep in the middle of October with naught more than a baby blanket and a note."
"Here. A bit of the Scottish to warm you."
"Thank you, Minerva." Severus meant more than just for the scotch.
"So, for eighteen years, you've been a pawn of Albus'." Minerva took a sip of her drink.
"It's my own fault." Severus mirrored her motion of taking a drink of his own. He winced at the burn of alcohol and then took another sip. He coughed a bit, shaking his head. "Strong."
"Firewhisky has nothing on good scotch."
"I offered myself up as a pawn to try and save Lily."
"Ah," Minerva said. "That was noble of you." She stared over at the fire, took another sip of her drink.
"It was selfish of me." He shook his head. "Not noble."
"Agree to disagree." She kept her gaze on the fire. A frown turned her lips downward and her brow was furrowed in thought.
"Do ask what's on your mind, Minerva." Severus had no patience for delicacy at the moment.
"I am a pawn?" she finally asked.
"I think you know the answer to that question," Severus told her. He knocked back the rest of the liquor and winced again at the burn. "Though you aren't going to like hearing it spoken aloud. Not from me."
"Are you certain?" Minerva asked.
"Certain?" Severus asked in a low voice. "What should I be certain of?"
"Don't misunderstand me. I do not doubt you, Severus. Not after all you have told me. I just… I thought he had a certain affection for me." Minerva fiddled with her glass. "Perhaps."
Severus sighed. "Albus is gay, Minerva.
"I…see..." Minerva frowned. "So, he flirts for no reason?"
"Oh, I am certain there is a reason, in his mind. But he holds a candle forever for some great lost lover, and flirts with you in an attempt to keep you loyal to him." Severus was suddenly exhausted.
Minerva snapped her attention back to Severus. "That is quite an accusation."
"It is," he agreed. "But it's true."
"It's not your place to speak other people's business," Minerva chided. "Whomever he takes to bed is his own business."
"I don't hold it against him!" Severus vehemently protested. "I just don't like being a pawn, even if I am a spy."
Severus set the glass down on the table and poured himself another healthy dash of whiskey.
"May I?" Severus offered up the decanter to refill her glass.
"Please." Minerva offered her glass to him.
Silence but for the pour of whiskey reigned for a moment.
"Is there anything else I should know?" Minerva asked before taking another drink of her refilled glass.
Severus knocked back all of the whiskey and motioned for another refill.
"Well, I'm fairly certain I am halfway to drunk." Severus held the glass at eye level and squinted at it. "Which is disappointing as I used to have a much better constitution."
"After only two drinks? Goodness." Minerva smiled slightly. "Maybe we should get you something to eat."
"I'm...I don't recall when last I ate. And, if you must know, there are a few little things you should probably know," he said.
"Like what?" Minerva prompted when he was silent a long moment.
"As we find out in Harry's second year, Arthur Weasley has a flying car," Severus said.
"A flying car?" Minerva echoed. "Of all the insane Muggle experiments of his, that is the one that works?"
"And if things follow the route that I believe they will, I'm absolutely certain that Gilderoy Lockhart will be hired for Defense Against the Dark Arts in the boy's second year because he has loose morals and a father fetish that will let Albus string him along."
"Is… Hmmm." She was uncertain as to how to phrase her question. "Gilderoy a man's man as well?" Minerva was mildly intrigued.
"You mean is he gay? Gods no," Severus snorted in amusement. "He's an everyone sort of man, much like Poppy." He took another drink. "And me."
"You? You're-what?" Minerva asked, tilting her head to one side.
"Bisexual. Or whatever the term is. Genitals don't matter to me, the person does. Unfortunately for me, I'm a nasty-looking bastard and will likely die alone. Die again, at least. Definitely drunk."
"I… see…" Minerva's tone was full of disbelief.
Severus smirked over at Minerva. "Oh, and while we're at it, Poppy Pomfrey has had a crush on you for the last decade."
Minerva arched a brow and knocked back the rest of her whiskey.
"I'm sure you're mistaken," she managed after a weighty moment of silence.
"Oh, and I'm going to save Harry Potter from those that would kill him,"
"I think I need another drink," Minerva poured herself just that.
"I think I don't," Severus almost smiled at her, "but I'll have one if you don't mind."
"I'm breaking out the Macallan for this one, Severus. If we've got a year to defy death and the Dark Lord, I'm going to need some better booze." Minerva rose from her chair.
"Well, hell." Severus poured himself another three fingers of the first scotch. "I'm not dying more often just for the good scotch."
"Oh, do shut up." Minerva gave him a small smile. "I don't want you to die at all."
"Nor do I," Severus said.
"My general plan of attack thus far is to rescue the Potter boy from his despicable relatives, take him to London to get all of his school supplies, and then make sure he makes the train in a month. It is a day, at most, of shopping with an eleven-year-old."
"Sounds like so much fun for you, Severus." Minerva hid a smile behind her glass.
"Ugh. Fun." His voice was dripping with disdain. "I'm not looking forward to Diagon Alley with an eleven-year-old."
"Perhaps I could meet up with you two for supper at the Leaky Cauldron before you drop him back home." Minerva suggested. "The boy needs to eat."
"I should be able to manage that." Severus let a small smile cross his face as she poured a healthy two fingers of Macallan 1824 into his glass.
"Now don't go gulping that down, Severus Snape. This whiskey is over a hundred and sixty years old." Minerva poured a bit into her empty glass.
"Older than you, even." Severus smirked into his glass.
"Git," Minerva said, voice fond. "Drink your whiskey. I'll ask for some supper to be sent up. You've got a long journey ahead of you tomorrow."