Chapter Two

It had to happen during dinner. That was the only time he could be sure Professors wouldn't be roaming the halls, and McGonagall would not be in her office. The only person he had to worry about was Filch, who obsessively toured the castle looking for troublemakers whether it was meal time or not. Severus wasn't sure he'd ever seen him eat, except once at Christmas, which had been such a thoroughly unpleasant experience he had done all he could to expel it from his memory. Luckily for Severus, Filch was a rather simple man. All he needed to do was cause a disturbance at the other side of the castle, which Peeves was all too happy to assist him with, and work quickly.

The door to Professor McGonagall's office was guarded by a small painting of a barn owl. Severus found this an odd choice, but noted absently that one had very little disturbance or awkward small talk with an animal. Lily had complained repeatedly about the Fat Lady's incessant chatter so he could not blame McGonagall for her choice.

Faced with the dark, beady eyes of the owl, Severus wracked his brains for what the password could possibly be. Cat breeds, he thought at first, having seen her transform into a tabby cat many times, but it seemed too obvious. It was also unlikely to be related to sweets like Dumbledore's; Severus could not imagine McGonagall enjoying a sherbet lemon somehow. What did McGonagall like more than anything, he wondered. Of course! He stepped backwards slightly and said loudly and clearly;

"Golden snitch."

The barn owl hesitated for an agonising moment then let out a low hoot, which was shortly proceeded by the door creaking open. Severus rushed inside and, after taking a quick look around the room to make sure he was alone, closed the door behind him.

The room was just as it had been when he had last visited, although without the rather formidable presence of Professor McGonagall. A large fireplace dominated the room, flanked by two rust coloured armchairs which had seen better days, but still looked incredibly comfortable. When Severus had entered the room, the fire had begun to burn ferociously, which frightened him momentarily before he remembered it had reacted exactly the same way when he had been here with McGonagall. Clearly some enchantment detected the presence of a witch or wizard and caused the fire to intensify, though why this was required in June Severus did not know. The other side of the room contained a desk piled high with papers, overlooking the Quidditch training grounds which was now deserted. In the distance, the top of the Quidditch stands were just visible over the hill that led down to the Forbidden Forest, currently sporting the colours of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, who would be playing the final match of the season next week.

Severus looked around for a moment, verifying that no magical creature or protection spell would catch him off guard. Finding no such obstacle, he proceeded directly to the cabinet where he had seen the time turner. It was just where it had been all those months ago, shining out amongst the other objects on display. He noticed now that it was winding back and forth very slightly, as if caught in a light breeze. It seemed to call out to him, desperate to escape the display cabinet to which it had been banished. Without hesitating, knowing that he had no time to spare, Severus yanked open the cabinet, which was stiff from apparent years of disuse, and grabbed the time turner from its hook.

Just as his fingertips touched the cold metal, Severus heard footsteps rushing towards the door. Two sets, one quick and shuffling, the other loud and purposeful; unmistakably Filch and McGonagall. His heartbeat quickened to an alarming rate,as he looked down at the shining gold object in his hands and wondered how on earth he was supposed to work it. Hogwarts: A History had been incredibly vague, stating simple that one need only turn the inner ring the correct amount of times to return to the required point in history. Severus had images of turning too many times and returning to childhood, or even before his birth, the consequences of which did not bear imagining. Conversely, turning too few times and winding up just outside McGonagall's door again, or directly after the incident with Lily, was also undesirable. He knew he would not get more than one chance, now that he was about to be caught by McGonagall and Filch. Looking towards the door frantically, he started to wind the time turner… but it wouldn't budge.

"Stupid thing."

He muttered under his breath and pushed harder. The footsteps were right outside the door now, and Severus heard McGonagall shouting her password, heard the rage in her voice.

"Come on!"

The door began to open as he gave the time turner one final push… and it slipped out of his hands. It hit the floor with a thud and a crash, as the glass inside shattered. Severus stared at it for a moment, shell-shocked, and then looked up at McGonagall's furious face, but saw with surprise that it was fading away. In fact, everything in the room; the fireplace, the desk, Filch, even the time turner, was slowly blurring together into an indistinguishable mess of colour and light. Severus felt suddenly dizzy, as the world appeared to spin around him, but he found he could not move to sit down, or leave the room; he was frozen in time.

Finally, after what felt like an age, the spinning slowed down until he could begin to make out the details of his surroundings once again. He immediately looked to the spot where McGonagall and Filch had stood, ready to accept his awful fate, but they were not there. The rest of the room looked almost identical, however, and he let out a breath he had been holding. Hopefully he had gone back in time just long enough to ensure he was not caught, then he could return to the present day, abandoning all ideas of time travel, and live out the rest of his years at Hogwarts quietly and studiously. He just needed to get an idea of how far he had gone back. He looked around the room for any clues, finally settling on the display cabinet next to the one that had held the time turner.

Immediately, his eyes were drawn to a collection of Gryffindor Quidditch team photos, specifically a celebratory photo with James Potter holding the 1976 Quidditch cup. James was smirking and holding the cup high over his head as the rest of the team cheered and patted him on the back. Severus' initial reaction was pure loathing, of James and Gryffindor in general. He did not need to like, or even understand, the game of Quidditch to wish a lifetime of losses onto the Gryffindor team. But, Severus thought with a start, the cup hasn't been decided yet, the final game isn't until after exams!

More shocking, however, were the photos proceeding this on this shelf. The next one along was from 1986, and featured a boy with flaming red hair holding a still fluttering golden snitch in his hand and looking bewildered at the camera as the rest of his team celebrated in the background. After this, Severus had to blink several times as he was sure he was mistaken, a team photo from 1993. This one featured brooms that were almost futuristic, and a team consisting entirely of players he did not recognise. They were headed up by a broad-shouldered player with a large grin and intense eyes, who had one arm around a younger, black-haired boy, whose round glasses were crooked. The boy looked familiar somehow, Severus thought as he watched the repeating image of him laughing and pushing the other boy away. He lifted the image off the shelf so he could look closer; it was the eyes definitely, but the boy was moving so violently that he couldn't get a good enough angle to discern where he knew them from. He sighed in frustration and put the picture back down on the shelf. Just as he did so, he noticed that the flames from the fire were intensifying once again.

"It was the fire!"

He exclaimed, suddenly understanding the speed at which McGonagall and Filch had discovered him. There was no time to lose; he immediately rushed towards the door, only to turn back abruptly to grab the picture frame he had been holding. Something was drawing him to that boy and he needed to find out what, once he was in a safe place of course. He bolted for the door, and then down the stone corridor, rounding the corner just in time to hear McGonagall's unmistakable steps, followed by a panting Filch.

"Firebolt."

McGonagall said, in her usual clear and unwavering tone. The door swung open and there was a moment of silence, followed by McGonagall's voice again, this time sounding distant, and much older than he remembered.

"That darned fire place needs fixing again. Argus, can you ask Professor Flitwick to take a look at it please."