She landed solidly on a stone floor and her tailbone protested. The blue light had abruptly vanished, leaving her eyes to cope painfully with the change. Slowly she could make out two figures lying beside her, Ron and Severus.
"Are you guys all right?" she asked.
Ron sat up and winced, "I think my shoulder's dislocated."
"I am not surprised," said Snape, coming to inspect the boy. The red-head shot Charlotte a desperate look. Having the professor examine him was clearly causing Ron more discomfort than his shoulder ever could.
"You were the rope in a nasty game of tug of war," Charlotte supplied, helping Ron to his feet. "We should get him to Poppy," she said to Snape. He took a position on Ron's other side but then froze abruptly. "What's wrong?"
"This is not my classroom." His voice was certain, if confused. Charlotte surveyed the room. At first glance it looked like the potions room, if bearing no sign of the whirlwind that had recently been unleashed. On closer inspection, however, Charlotte could see that the lectern was on the wrong side of the room, as was the chalkboard. The rows of ingredients for up-coming lessons did not follow Snape's precise ordering system and were housed not in the standard stopper-top glass jars from Slug and Jiggers, but in vials that almost looked like cut crystal.
"The writing on the board doesn't look like any of the teachers I've had at school, sir," Ron remarked.
"We'd better find Dumbledore." Both men nodded and they began making their way slowly to the door.
"Stop right there!" A wizard, not much taller than Professor Flitwick, was standing at the entrance to the store room, wand outstretched. "Who are you and what are you doing in my classroom?"
"Your classroom?" Snape asked indignantly, drawing himself up. "What have you done to my classroom?"
"I have been Potions Master at Hogwarts for ten years; I think I have some concept of where my own classroom is." The small man's voice had jumped a half an octave and his wand hand shook. "Furthermore, in that time I have never seen any of you before. I can only assume that you have penetrated the castle walls for some evil end. You will come with me to the headmaster's office. If you do not come willingly, I will have no alternative but to use force."
"I think seeing the headmaster is the most intelligent thing I have heard you say thus far," answered Snape and he swept out of the room, leaving the others to follow in his wake.
To call the walk through the castle tense would be an understatement. Snape's back was straight and his shoulders tight, Charlotte could almost see the annoyance rolling off of him. He disliked deception and disliked not having control of a situation even more. Charlotte was worried, not angry. As they made their way to the headmaster's office she noticed minor differences in the school as well. She didn't recognize some of the portraits that lined the walls and the ones she did recognize did not seem to know her. It was all very strange. Snape's purposeful stride halted abruptly as they approached the office entrance. Looking past him, Charlotte saw why. Instead of a great phoenix statue guarding the entrance it was a large dragon.
"I don't think Dumbledore is going to be waiting for us inside." Charlotte said softly. Snape shot her a look and squared his jaw.
The little wizard stepped forward. "Deosil!" he said to the dragon and the statue began to move, re-curling its tail into a ramp that spiraled up into the office. With a sharp wave of his wand, the potions master directed them up.
The office had none of Dumbledore's organized chaos, no shelves of pensieves, no Fawkes and most importantly, no Dumbledore. There was a serious looking man of sixty or so intently studying a piece of parchment. He wore robes of silver black, was clean shaven with well-styled grey hair. He looked up with a pleasant smile when the party entered the room.
"Well Fitzhugh, who have you brought to me at this time of night? Not errant students, I think?" Charlotte thought he had a kind face, but it lacked Albus' all-knowing twinkle.
"No sir. I found these three in the Potions Classroom. This one," he said, gesturing to Snape, "said it was his classroom!"
The headmaster came round the side of his desk to look at them closely. "Professor Fitzhugh has been with us a long time. Furthermore, I do not remember seeing any of you on the faculty list, and it is well nigh impossible for people to just appear within the walls of the school. Would you be so good as to tell me who you all are?"
"I'm Charlotte Parnell, this is Severus Snape, and this is Ronald Weasley. We are equally confused, sir. There was an accident in our potions room and we suddenly found ourselves on the business end of Professor Fitzhugh's wand."
Both Fitzhugh and the headmaster looked rather surprised. "You're an American!" exclaimed Fitzhugh.
Charlotte looked at them as though they were both daft. "Yes," she said slowly.
"We haven't heard much from the Americans of late, things are quite tense between the Muggle governments as you know, and what with Napoleon and all, we've been quite the isolated island recently."
Charlotte and Snape exchanged a glance. "Excuse me, did you say 'Napoleon'?" she asked weakly.
Fitzhugh nodded. After a pause Snape asked. "Headmaster, would you by chance have a copy of today's Daily Prophet?"
"Of course, have it owled to me every morning." He handed the paper to Snape, who scanned it quickly and then thrust it at Charlotte, pointing to the masthead. She gasped. In plain smudge-proof ink it said November 14, 1811. Charlotte passed the paper to Ron, who went very pale.
Snape cleared his throat. "I believe we have worked out part of the problem." The two men looked at him expectantly. "I was not in error when I said that the Potions Classroom was mine. I am the Potions Master at Hogwarts – one hundred and eighty-six years from now."
The only sound in the office was the fire snapping. At last the headmaster said. "Well then." He seemed at loss for anything further.
"Headmaster, Ron was injured in our – journey here, would it be possible to take him to the infirmary to have someone look at his shoulder?"
The headmaster looked at Charlotte and then at Ron and nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. I'm sure you know the way, but I will come along to explain things to Madam Nostra."
"You don't honestly believe them?" blustered Fitzhugh as they made to leave.
"You are welcome to administer Veritaserum to us all," Snape responded with dampening look.
"I hardly think that necessary at this stage," replied the headmaster. "I would far rather they be time travelers than entertain the possibility that someone had penetrated the impregnable Hogwarts. By the by, I suppose I should introduce myself. Patrice Torht." He shook hands all around and then. "Lets get Mr. – Weasley, was it, down to the infirmary."
Madam Nostra was clearly cut of the same cloth as Madam Pomfrey, Charlotte suspected that brisk understanding was probably in the job description. Torht told the mediwitch that the trio were guests who had just arrived and she did not press the issue. Nostra reset the joint with quick efficiency and then gave Ron a potion to help him sleep. With a last look at the peacefully unconscious red-head, Torht led them out of the infirmary.
"You both must be tired. Rooms have been prepared for you in the guest wing, and for Mr. Weasley too when he recovers. I will have a change of clothes sent up as well. To what houses do you all belong?"
"Professor Snape is a Slytherin, I am a Ravenclaw, more or less, and Ron is a Gryffindor. Do you really believe us?" Charlotte added, impulsively.
"It is as I said to Fitzhugh; it is the preferable explanation to you breaking into Hogwarts. It is a turbulent time, Napoleon is still on the move, the Muggles seem ready to war with America, and the Luddites have been causing trouble in the countryside. To me the arrival of three time travelers seems a minor inconvenience."
Charlotte laughed, "We are accidental travelers at best. Manipulating time is still very closely regulated by the Ministry."
"Then how exactly did you come to be here?"
"We shall have to wait for Mr. Weasley to know the full story," began Snape and he proceeded to tell Torht what he and Charlotte had experienced.
"I have never heard of a potion behaving remotely in that fashion. Admittedly I have not the potions expertise of you or Fitzhugh but…" he trailed off as they approached three vaulted wooden doors. "Here are your rooms. Mr. Weasley will be in the one on the far end, with Professor Snape in the middle and you, Professor Parnell at the other end. I will bid you both goodnight, but I hope you will do me the honor of joining me for breakfast in my quarters?" At their assent he bowed and left.
Charlotte closed her door firmly behind her and looked around. In any century Hogwarts provided choice accommodations. The centerpiece of the room was a large four poster bed with a thick lavender and green quilt. It wasn't as big as her room, but then it was the guest quarters and not designed for a permanent stay. Oh Merlin, I hope it's not permanent. She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and stared at the stone wall. "Holy Fuck!" she exclaimed, as their situation sank in. I'm in 18-fucking-11. It would be another 110 years before her grandparents were born. "How are we ever going to get out of this one?" she whispered. There was some comfort from thinking that Ron would know exactly what happened and they could be back in their time before dinner tomorrow, but it couldn't fully combat the waves of fear and loneliness sweeping over her. Shut up, Charlotte, she told herself sternly, go to bed, think about it in the morning. She transfigured her shirt and slacks into something more sleep appropriate and laid her blue robe carefully over the back of the desk chair. Turning back to the bed, she caught sight of something odd in the wall beside the desk. On closer inspection she saw there was a thin space separating one of the blocks at the bottom of the wall from its fellows. This is the wall adjoining Severus' room. I wonder…. She pushed on the stone and it slid forward easily. The ensuing space was just big enough for her to crawl into so she did, pushing the stone as she moved forward. A shaft of light broke around the brick and she heard a sharp voice say, "Who's there?" Charlotte entered Snape's room with her arms raised.
"Don't shoot." The man put down his wand and Charlotte stood up. "It was like that when I found it, honest," she said, pointing to the large stone block on the floor. "I just gave it a push." He had obviously been in bed. He wore only a black t-shirt and black shorts and the dark tapestry quilt was pulled back to reveal crisp white sheets.
"Torht is right," he began, "we should rest. There will be plenty of time to talk tomorrow."
"I know, but-" she hesitated, "I'm scared, I don't want to be alone." This was a rare admission from her, and he knew it. There were plenty of things she was scared of – flying on broomsticks, boggarts, the prospect of Lucius and Voldemort – but in her American way she put on a brave face and did what she had to do. Of course, accidental time travel was nothing compared to brooms or boggarts. He was worried too, but worse at owning up to it. Severus got back into bed and lifted up the covers in silent invitation. She climbed in beside him, savoring the warmth and smiling as his body molded around hers. A sudden burst of happiness bubbled through her chest and she relaxed into his arms. The past could wait a few hours. Within moments she was fast asleep.
How long he lay there watching her breathe he did not know. His second thought upon reading the paper was of Voldemort. Should he decide to call his followers, would the Dark Mark carry through space and time? And if so, was its pull strong enough to bring him back to the present? Did he dare bring Charlotte and Weasley along in hopes of getting them safely back to the proper Hogwarts? What if Voldemort called him and he did not respond? He sighed; it did no good to deal in the realm of possibilities. Better to wait until he had all the facts at his disposal. He inhaled the faint scent of citrus and herbs that lingered on Charlotte's hair and allowed himself to drift off.
***
They were awakened the next morning by a determined pounding on the door. Charlotte had bolted from the bed and back into her room with such a rare display of early morning consciousness that Severus wondered how many times she had done it before. He made a mental note to tease her about it later, and then pushed the ensuing mental image out of his head as he answered the door.
"Good morning Professor Snape, sir. Dilly has brought you these clothes from Headmaster Tohrt, sir." The house elf handed him a package and bowed himself out. Snape heard Dilly repeat a similar message to Charlotte next door and then went in search of a bath.
Charlotte had been relieved to find that the Hogwarts of 1811 did boast indoor facilities that were very similar to what she was used to, down to the high density brightly colored bubble bath. Clean and dry, she turned her attention to the parcel Dilly had given her. There was a white chemise slip followed by a close fitting muslin dress with an empire waist. The bodice of the dress was a bright brass and the skirt a dark blue – Ravenclaw's colors. Over top of that went a long black duster-cloak that also hugged the line of her body. Charlotte ignored the thin slippers in favor of her more sturdy black boots. She dressed her hair (with the aid of a charm or two) based on what she remembered seeing in movies and descriptions of the period, swept up into an elaborate bun with a few ringlets free to frame her face. The mirror nodded approvingly, so Charlotte guessed she had done it right. She entered Severus' room in a more conventional manner, hoping for some reaction to her period appearance. He was at the mirror, putting the final touches on his own outfit. Charlotte let out a low whistle. Over a white shirt he wore a double breasted grey waistcoat with thin diagonal stripes in Slytherin green. Below that came grey breeches and shiny black Hessian boots. A long black robe cut like a driving coat went over it all and intricately tied white cravat completed the ensemble.
"Sex on a stick," Charlotte breathed, taking it all in. The corners of his mouth twitched briefly. "I don't suppose I could persuade you wear that back home?"
"No," he answered without hesitation. "However," he continued an evil smirk forming as he considered her appearance, "I might be persuaded –" a tentative knock at the door prevented Charlotte from hearing what exactly and it was annoyed Snape that snapped "What?" at the door.
Ron took that as all the invitation he would get and opened the door. He was attired similarly to Snape, but with a yellow waistcoat with stripes of red and yellow breeches. "How are you feeling Ron?" asked Charlotte, moving away from Snape.
"I'm okay, a little sore maybe." He paused and flushed. "Thanks for trying to save me, Professor. I'm sorry it ended up this way."
Charlotte gave Snape a dirty look, daring him to make a snarky comment. "Don't worry about it Ron. Come on, Headmaster Torht is expecting us for breakfast."
Patrice Torht was waiting for them in his sitting room where a small breakfast had been set. After a polite inquiry into Ron's health and the quality of sleep they enjoyed they tucked into the food.
"I hope you will forgive me," the headmaster began, spreading jam on a piece of bread, "but after further consideration, and a relatively sleepless night on my part, I feel that I ought to administer the Veritaserum to you all. It would be remiss of me with all these children under my care not to take the precaution."
"Of course, Headmaster," said Charlotte, "we'd be happy to oblige."
"We hope not to trespass on your hospitality too long, but that does depend on Mr. Weasley." Ron looked up from his plate at Snape, startled.
"What happened in the classroom, Ron?" asked Charlotte.
Ron shifted his gaze uneasily from one professor to the other. "It was Crabbe and Goyle! Me and Harry were working on the potion and we saw them outside the door. They threw something at us, I think they were trying to hit Harry, but their aim was pretty bad. It hit the jar of Betony and knocked it into the cauldron and then the thing fell in the cauldron too." He hesitated and then added, "I'm thinking that Malfoy – Draco – is somehow involved. Crabbe and Goyle are his goons; they can't tie their shoes without his say so."
Snape looked less than thrilled with this assessment of the members of his house, but restricted his comments to the matter at hand. "What did they throw at you Mr. Weasley?"
"I'm not sure. It looked a bit like a Remembrall, but it all happened so fast." He furrowed his brow in thought, and then shook his head. "I can't see it clearly."
Snape turned back to Torht. "Once you have confirmed we are who we claim, we will need a safe location for our potions work and a number of supplies, including a Pensieve."
"Certainly, I will make the arrangements. But there is one other matter we must address. Perhaps it is the same in your time, but Hogwarts students now seem to have an uncanny knack for discovering anything and everything the faculty tries to keep secret. For the moment it will be easy enough to explain your presence as guests of mine but," he cleared his throat delicately, "it is not at all common for women, witch or Muggle, to travel alone with two men of no relation. There needs to be some explanation for her inclusion in the party. "
"That is easily solved," answered Snape with an unconcerned air, "Professor Parnell can be my wife."
A/N: Thanks to the reviewers and my trusted team of beta readers. Also, drawings of Severus and Charlotte's costumes can be found here: http://www.geocities.com/aquaesulis06/regencycolor.jpg and http://www.geocities.com/aquaesulis06/regencycolor2.jpg