Chapter 2: Turning Time
After an hour of trying several times to walk past Harry and get to the door so that he could leave, and weathering Harry's screaming of oddities and obscenities every time, Snape was forced to Stun him and take him to Madame Pomfrey. She very heavily sedated Harry and offered to be a part of the necessary conversation that would explain to the reader (at least partially) what the hell was going on, but Snape declined. Since he preferred the company of his own thoughts, the writer said to hell with it, sent him on a walk through the rose garden, and decided to explain things through the narrative after all.
Snape's wife had very literally popped up out of nowhere one day near the end of his seventh year and lectured him in no uncertain terms on the topic of reproduction. She was specifically adamant that he never engage in it. He had found her odd even then, for obvious reasons, and also for the fact that her brown hair looked as if it had been styled in a wind tunnel.
He would probably have walked away from the odd woman, never to see her again, except that two rather unfortunate things happened. First, she followed him back to school, loudly lecturing him the whole way, and secondly, the Marriage Law of 1976 passed. It turned out, as Dumbledore learned from a long conversation with the girl, that she was a Muggle-born witch, and by the provisions of the law, she was required to be married off to a pureblood wizard at the earliest opportunity.
By some sick twist of fate, Snape was the only one available at Hogwarts, so to the disgust of both Snape and the girl, they were married as soon as Severus graduated. His new wife actually seemed to take some comfort in it, though, for it meant that she had some control over whether or not he ever produced offspring. She took a birth control potion regularly, and she kept it hidden and refused to tell him where it was. Snape had not really pursued it because he had pretty much resolved by the end of their honeymoon that there was no one with whom he wanted to have children less.
That had been all well and good until a bizarre potions accident turned their home upside-down. Something went very wrong with one of Snape's brews, causing it to send out a repulsive-smelling fume that also somehow caused Snape and his wife to switch bodies. It was several weeks before he could figure out the counter-potion, and somewhere in there, his wife…er, he…well, the female body, at any rate—became pregnant. He was so out of his element anyway that he wasn't aware of what the telltale signs meant, so when they switched back, his wife had quite the nasty shock.
As a result of their switch, however, the two had gained a better understanding of one another and actually managed to fall in love. He convinced her to keep the baby, and all was well until—
Snape broke off his reflection to blast a large rose bush (betcha forgot he was out for a stroll in the rose garden, didn't ya). Then, he thought bitterly, along had come Sirius Black.
His wife apparently knew Black from somewhere, and when the former Marauder had dropped by uninvited one day, she was only too happy to renew the acquaintance. Black didn't seem to remember her, but he also wasn't the type to disillusion a pretty young lady—even if her hair looked like something out of a Boris Karloff movie. Her loyalties had quickly switched, and by the time the Marriage Law was repealed in early 1980, she was talking about a divorce.
Snape had done his best to save their marriage, but once she came home from St. Mungo's with their newborn son (named Herman, somewhat after his mother), it was over. She packed her trunk and ran off with Black, leaving Snape with a lot of good memories and a whining infant who looked just like her, right down to the frizzy hair.
So, knowing that his talents did not include raising a child while still heartbroken over its mother, Snape had taken the baby to Dumbledore, who had promised to arrange an adoption with a good family.
Just over a year later, Black had been arrested and tossed into Azkaban, and who should come back to Snape but his ex-wife. He hadn't been in a charitable mood and had coldly turned her away. Rumors reached him later that she had had a nervous breakdown, but otherwise he hadn't heard from her again.
Snape blasted another rosebush, then, satisfied that the writer had been given ample opportunity to explain his history, went back to the castle.
Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had gone straight to the hospital wing as soon as their classes were over.
"Do you think they can cure it?" Ron whispered. "I mean, I've seen some nasty potions messes in my day, but damn!"
Hermione shook her head. "I only hope it was the potion," she replied. Something about Harry's hair bothered her.
They kept their vigil until about midnight, when Harry groaned and slowly woke up. He caught sight of his friends and sat up. "Please, tell me it was a dream," he pleaded. "I got hit in the head by a bludger, and everything else was a hallucination, right?"
Ron and Hermione traded worried looks. "Harry, you get hit by a bludger in a different Ancalimë Erendis story," Hermione told him.
"Then I still look like—" Harry broke off and went green.
"Afraid so," Ron sighed. "Don't worry, though; Madame Pomfrey'll fix it up in no time."
"She can't," Harry said miserably. "This is how I'm supposed to look. It was an appearance charm before."
Ron and Hermione stared at him. "Harry," Ron said slowly, "what are you saying?"
Harry gulped. "Snape is my…my…father."
They gaped at him in horror. "Your father," Hermione breathed. "Does this mean he's going to cut off your hand?"
He shook his head. "He didn't seem to think so," he answered.
"Well, that's something at least," Ron said.
Hermione narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. "But it's still not good enough," she growled. "It's not right. I won't stand for it!" Without another word, she stood and stormed out of the hospital wing.
"Where's she going?" Harry asked.
Ron shrugged. "The library, probably." He turned deadly serious. "Look, Harry, you know I have the greatest respect for you…"
Harry nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, I'm afraid it's over. I can't be friends with you anymore." Ron set his jaw. "How could I explain to my family that I'm on good terms with a Snape?" He stood to leave. "So, sorry, Harry, but it won't do. Have fun getting to know him—I'm sure he's a great guy, deep down." He, too, turned and left.
Harry stared after him, thoroughly floored. "What the hell did I do?" he demanded.
"Dobby is sorry Harry Potter is not feeling well."
Harry turned to find the house elf perched on the chair Hermione had just vacated. "Dobby!"
The house elf's expression closed. "Or should Dobby say, Harry Snape?"
"You know what?" Harry burst out. "I never really liked you anyway, you ugly git!" He pulled out his wand and threw a hex at the house elf that quickly reduced him to a puddle of slime. "Much better!" he sighed, then lay back down to sleep.
Hermione, meanwhile, ran back to Gryffindor, where she dug out her now-illegal Time-Turner from its hiding place. She tiptoed back out of the common room and through the corridors. It would be best to appear at the edge of the Forest, she thought, for there was less chance of her arrival being observed.
"Go back, Miss Granger!" a deranged voice cried, so close at hand that Hermione nearly brained herself on the wall scrambling backward. A thin, bug-eyed figure appeared before her, huge eyes filled with a demented desperation.
"Professor Trelawney!"
"Go back, you foolish girl, or what you most fear will come to pass!"
"Oh, right," Hermione said scornfully. "Like I haven't heard that one before."
"The Time-Turner will break, you will be stranded, and all that you wish to prevent will happen!" Trelawney intoned.
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "And how would you know that?"
"It has happened before, it will happen again!" Trelawney's voice took on the note of doom. "If you do this, you will forever regret it. Do you want to end up like me?"
Hermione snorted. "I think the chances of my turning out like you are rather slim," she said acidly. "And as for the rest of it…lucky guess."
Trelawney glared at her. "I know what you think of me, my dear," she growled. "Better than you can know. But this time I'm telling the full, complete, known truth. And by now, some of the readers know or suspect why, which is painless enough for them, but for you it will be an agonizing lesson learned."
Hermione sighed, rolled her eyes, and drew her wand.
"So now you'll just hex me," Trelawney said piteously. "Well, go ahead; I did it once myself."
Not wishing to be outdone by the batty Divination teacher, Hermione chose a particularly nasty hex, then went on her way. The last words she heard in her own time were, "I knew you were going to pick that one."