Changing Times

By Neurotica

Chapter Five: Snape's Worst Nightmare

Severus Snape's lip curled as Dumbledore left the dungeons. Two hours… Two hours he would have to give up tutoring this mysterious group of sixth years. Dumbledore seemed to enjoy every second he spent evading Snape's questions as to just who these students were. With any luck – of which he seemed to scarcely have – these students would be competent enough to prepare a truth serum. He highly doubted it, however, as the headmaster said they were "a bit behind the times". And then he chuckled. Severus Snape hated it when Dumbledore chuckled; he always seemed to have some private joke that nobody else understood when he chuckled, and the joke never ended with Snape's enjoyment.

He gathered his potions supplies and left the comfort of his cold dungeons. He'd basically grown up in the Hogwarts dungeons, and he could find no place he enjoyed being in more.

Snape made his way to the quarters he would temporarily be using as a Potions lab. On the way, he took much pleasure in taking points from a group of Ravenclaw fourth years for talking too loudly in the corridors.

As the room drew nearer, the door opened and a familiar head of black untidy hair snuck out. "Potter!" Snape called.

Harry Potter, son of the man Snape loathed, even in death, spun around. "Yes, professor?" He asked innocently – a little too innocently in Snape's opinion.

"What are you doing here? These quarters are strictly forbidden to students. Or are you once again believing yourself above the rules?" Snape said coldly.

"I have permission to be here, sir," Potter said with attitude in his voice.

"Really?" Snape asked, his eyebrows raising.

"Yes."

"Well, I have not been informed of this. Five points from Gryffindor, Potter. Now, I suggest you return to your common room before I decide to be less generous," Snape said smoothly.

Potter left, muttering about something Snape didn't care to hear. Snape said the password ("Snickerdoodle"), and waited for the portrait of the giant fish to open. Already Snape was quite annoyed with the arrangements as he stepped through the portrait hole.

Right when he entered, Snape noticed the same head of unruly hair he'd just seen moments ago. How did he… Snape thought. No matter; that's just more points from Gryffindor. "Potter!" he yelled, watching the sixth year jump and slowly turn around. "I don't know how you got back in here, but I want you OUT! Fifty points from Gryffindor for deliberate disobedience."

Potter merely raised an eyebrow. "Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"What did you say to me, Potter?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowing.

Potter turned around fully, his knees on the cushion, and placed his arms on the back of the armchair he was sitting in. "I asked who the hell you are. And I haven't done anything in the past ten minutes, so you can't take points," Potter said.

"Bloody hell! I know you!" said a too-familiar voice.

Snape turned to his right and saw sixteen-year-old versions of Sirius Black, Lily Evans, and Peter Pettigrew carrying their potions supplies into the room. This couldn't be happening… It was impossible… But if they're here, that would mean… Snape turned back to Potter how stood from his spot in the chair. No scar…

"Snivellus?" James Potter cried out in realization.

"Ha! I knew it! Still as greasy as ever, I see," Black said with a smirk.

"A little paler, too," Potter said casually. "You know, Snivelly, a little sun wouldn't do you much harm."

A door on the far end of the quarters opened at the commotion James and Sirius had started. Snape had to blink a few times to be sure he wasn't seeing things. He wiped his eyes. Nope, he wasn't seeing things; there really were two Lupins staring at him with the exact same questioning gaze.

"Lupin!" Snape said, trying to regain his composure.

"Yes?" Both Lupins answered politely. The older one leaned over to his younger self and whispered, "I think he meant me."

"Oh, right, sorry," the younger Lupin said, moving to stand with James and Peter.

"Hello, Severus," Older Lupin said.

"What have you done?" Snape growled.

Lupin raised that insufferable eyebrow. "Nothing," he said. "I'm merely supervising," he added, gesturing to the sixth year students.

"What kind of sick joke is this, Lupin?"

"It's not a joke, Snivelly! We're really here!" Sirius said, grinning. Older Lupin sent him a sharp look.

"These are our visitors, Severus," Older Lupin said mildly.

"Impossible," Snape spat.

Older Lupin sighed. "I assure you this is happening, Severus."

"If you think I am teaching – them, you're more insane that I previously believed," Snape said.

"Come on, Snivelly, it'll be fun!" James said.

"Don't lie to him, James," Sirius whispered loudly, not trying to keep Snape from hearing.

Shaking his head hopelessly, Snape turned away from the two boys he hated most during his Hogwarts days. "Insanity," he muttered, turning away from the lot of them.

"Severus…" Older Lupin began. "Severus, where are you going?"

Snape took his potions supplies and made his way far away from the room slowly, muttering about mad werewolves.


After a dinner delivered to him by Lucius Malfoy's former house-elf (Obie, or something ridiculous like that), Snape sat in his cold dark dungeon study, on a chair only he could find comfortable, with only the light of one lantern to allow him to see. He'd already gone through a full bottle of wine, but couldn't get the visions of those blasted Marauders out of his mind.

He thought he had rid himself of them forever – well, Potter and Black, at least; he was forced to see Lupin everyday, and he had to deal with Pettigrew on a less frequent basis. Regardless, he loathed them all – he always had. Black and Potter had been the ringleaders of the "I hate Slytherins" club in school. One year, they actually developed buttons of different Slytherins with boils on their faces, their heads catching fire, or something equally as cruel.

How could Dumbledore possibly believe that he, Severus Snape, would actually teach the Marauders? He didn't even want to call a Marauder his colleague.

It was best for what remained of his sanity that he left their quarters; Black and Potter would have blown them all to dust had Snape been forced to stay. Dumbledore would be hearing from him about this little surprise, indeed.

Snape began to relax slightly as he drained the third glass of the second bottle of wine. He started to pour himself another, but the bottle flew from his hand. It dangled in front of his face for a moment before soaring into a far wall and shattering. Snape raised an eyebrow at the mess. Perhaps I've had enough, he thought.

He went to his private bathroom to change for bed, but found himself face down on the hard dungeon floor. A footstool had caused the fall, but Snape didn't recall moving it from the other side of the room. He pushed himself from the floor and finally made it to his bathroom.

He took care of his business and changed into his maroon and gold pajamas.

Wait, did I say maroon and gold? Why, yes, yes I did.

Snape looked horrified into the mirror as gold lettering appeared across his chest. 'Potions is for gits,' the writing said.

After closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly, Snape looked back into the mirror. He was wearing Gryffindor pajamas.

Thinking things were a little too odd tonight, and vowing to lay off the wine for a while, Snape rectified the problem, and changed into his nice non-Gryffindor pajamas.

Sighing, he went to his bedroom and began to prepare for a good night's rest. He extinguished the lanterns in the room with a wave of his wand, and pulled down the bed covers.

Snape climed into his four-poster bed and began to get comfortable. That was until he felt it… There was something slightly nasty feeling on his bare feet. Raising another eyebrow, Snape got back out of bed, tore off the bed's covers, and lit the tip of his wand.

The entire mattress was covered in broken eggs, shells and all.

"What the hell?" Snape muttered drunkenly. He vanished the eggs and looked around.

That was when he saw it…

In large gold letters, just above his bedroom door was the following message:

'To Snivellus,

With (no) love, The Marauders

Moony

Wormtail

Padfoot

Prongs