A/N: As always, enjoy. :-)
Timely Mysteries
He didn't even know where he was going. Just that he was going far away from his dad. That was all that mattered currently. How dare Tobias lecture him like that? The man didn't know anything. He didn't know the sacrifices that had been made for them. The pain the other Severus had felt. He had felt. Sure, it seemed Tobias had read the letter now, but he didn't know like Severus himself knew.
Idly, he heard the leaves crinkle underneath his feet. He must have left the castle already. Everything was a blur now. All that remained was his anger. His anger and bitterness at the world at large were eating away at his hope once more. How dare his father threaten him!
Deep down, he knew his dad would never alert the Aurors. But the fear taunted him inside. All it took was one word, one false step, and the world he knew now would come crumbling down. All hope, all happiness, everything would just vanish. The darkness would set in again, suffocate him, just as it had done before.
Severus had just started to become comfortable again with his life. To be happy. Didn't his father see that? Didn't he know it? How could he threaten him like that?
As he continued down the steep hill, he noticed in the distance the smoke billowing up from Hagrid's hut's chimney. For a brief moment, he considered visiting the friendly half-giant before he turned away sharply. No amount of rock cakes in the world would fix this.
Clenching his hands and unclenching them at his sides, Severus continued his angry stomp across the grounds. Nothing about this day had been good. Not a damn thing!
Except Harrison. His time with the little brat had been good. He was enjoying the hugs the boy would give. The little flashes of Lily that came through every now and then in the boy's personality. It was as if his former best friend—the one who hadn't abandoned him and left him to the darkness—was still there with him.
Yet she had ultimately left him there to rot, as if he didn't matter. She chose James Potter, a toerag she had called him on numerous occasions. He supposed he shouldn't still be upset with her any longer for not choosing him. She had been happy with James in the end, and deep down that was all Severus really wanted for her. Even though, that was truly ridiculous to even care for considering all that occurred between the ex-friends.
Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his long, oily hair. He grabbed a bit of it and tugged hard. The pain yanked him back from those thoughts. She chose her way, and he had chosen his. There was nothing more to say.
With a wave of his hand, he non-verbally opened the tall, formidable wrought iron gates guarded by two winged boars. He crossed the threshold a moment later and felt the brief flicker of cold from the ancient wards pass over him. He was finally free of that damned castle and its magic.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply. All the scents of fall invaded his nostrils at once. All that was missing was some pumpkins spice concoction really. The crisp air went deep into his lungs. He sighed heavily and reopened his eyes. As wonderful as it was, it wasn't where he knew he needed to be. It still was too close to the castle for comfort. A break was what he needed.
So, he rapidly turned on his heels, his mind focusing on the bustling streets of London. He felt the familiar sensation a second later before he vanished in a flurry of black.
Reappearing moments later, he found himself in a vacant alleyway near St. Mungo's. He considered drawing his wand to conjure a cloak for himself, but decided against it. There was nothing wrong with his dark slacks and black button-down shirt. Other than the fact that they were horribly wrinkled since he had slept in them, he supposed. Snorting, he realized then that he had thankfully had enough foresight to have put on his boots before he had joined his father earlier in his sitting room. Otherwise, this journey would have been quite different.
Severus quickly moved down the alleyway and turned the corner a moment later. When he saw the rundown Muggle department store Purge and Dowse Ltd in front of him, he felt the familiar tug at the corner of his mouth. It was mad what he was about to do, he knew, but he needed to know. And this was the only place he knew of that could get him those answers.
Walking up to the window where a dummy stood guard, he murmured a moment later, "Healer Sinistra, please." The dummy's head cocked to the side for a moment and stared back at him, as if it was confused by his request. "I need to speak with Healer Sinistra," he repeated. Still, the window didn't shimmer into the entrance as it should have. "Narcissa Malfoy then." At that, the dummy reacted and beckoned him forward before the entrance shimmered into existence. He passed through a moment later with a frown. Why hadn't it recognized Syra's name?
"Severus?" Narcissa's soft voice whispered soon after. She quickly moved away from the wizard with five hands who she had been assisting in the waiting room and headed to him before she grabbed ahold of his elbow. "Come with me." Her tone had quickly changed from friendly to business-like.
Once they were alone in a vacant room and the door was closed behind them, he watched her cross her arms. She clearly was in no mood tonight.
"What on Earth are you doing here?" she asked.
"A pleasure to see you as well, Narcissa," he drawled, forcing the polite smile to his face. Why was she angry with him already? He didn't do anything!
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Severus." She then tapped her finger against her crossed arm. "What are you doing here?"
"I was wishing to speak with Syra." He noticed the quick flicker of something on her face and stepped towards her. He was missing something obviously. "What? What is it?"
"She retired, Severus. Not long after she had spoken with you and your father actually after your mother was found."
"What?"
"So, forgive me for not being all cheerful with you tonight."
"Why did she retire?"
"As if I know. I was under the impression you'd know actually considering she put in her papers not long after leaving you two that day. We've been short staffed ever since, and the idiots that are here currently don't know a healing spell from a curse."
"Did she leave a forwarding address?" he asked, his mind reeling with this new info.
"A forwarding address? Severus, honestly, the woman was a pain in the arse. A damn good healer mind you, but a pain in the arse." Her eyes then narrowed into slits. "Why do you want to speak with her anyway?"
He sighed heavily and shrugged. Narcissa was many things. And trustworthy was one of them. But in the end, she still was the wife of a Death Eater. He couldn't risk it. "My son. He's having trouble . . . adjusting, I believe. I wondered if she had any tips." He watched her face soften.
"You realize that I'm a mother of a young child as well, Severus, yes?" She then laughed quietly. "What symptoms is he exhibiting?"
"He's cranky all the time. And he's very . . . clingy."
"It's a phase, Severus. Trust me. Little Draco sobs every time I have to leave the manor. Don't give in to him, though. Show him that you're still there, but be firm with him. It'll help later."
"I see. There's nothing more I can do?"
"Short of obliviating him every time you leave, no. It's perfectly natural for your son to be having difficulty adjusting. He's used to you always being there with him, but with the upcoming term . . . he needs to learn that everything will be fine. He'll grow out of it."
The young father forced another polite smile and inclined his head to her. "Thank you."
"Of course. Was there anything else?"
He shook his head. "No. That was all. I shall return to the castle."
"Don't take the long way there, Severus, all right? Not with the current climate out there being as it is." His eyes narrowed on her. "You've certainly read the stories as well as I have. I would hate to hear that something happened to you, my friend."
If it had been said by anyone else, he might have drawn his wand. As it was, he only inclined his head to her before he left. His mind still swam with thoughts. Why had Syra left so suddenly after their visit this past spring? Was there something else in that file she had given his father? Something that she may have omitted perhaps? Syra had stated at the time that copy she had given his father was the only one. He had wondered then why she only made that copy, but he had forgotten about it after seeing his mother later looking as if Death had greeted her.
He brushed past the injured witches and wizards without a word or even a glance at them. He had thought for certain he'd get his answers from her. At least the one of where he could find Syra's daughter. Not that it really mattered, he supposed, as he was only wanting to be friends with her.
It was strange. Every time he tried to recall a meeting with Aurora, he couldn't remember it fully. Only bits and pieces could he recall. Oh, but he could remember every conversation he had ever had with Lily, though. That was easy. The heartbreak, the tears, the laughter, the smiles, the loneliness.
He knew from rereading some of his journals from his youth, that he had tutored Aurora on at least one occasion in potions. And it had been disastrous. A number nine caldron had been completely obliterated along with numerous ingredients he had bought. But he couldn't recall the actual memory of it. In fact, the only thing about that day he could recall was Lily walking out of the lavatory with a split lip on the fourth floor after Charms. Had Evans really been that memorable to him, that spellbinding? In hindsight, he knew the answer was no. But at the time . . . obsession did that to a person, though.
Sighing, he shook his head, sticking his hands into his pockets. He'd have to make sure that didn't happen again. If he ever fell in love, that was. Oh, whom was he kidding really? His dad was right. He was throwing a right tantrum all because she wasn't there. But he didn't know her. Not really.
He knew that she had gone to Hogwarts with him. A year behind him actually. She was a Slytherin. After leaving Hogwarts, she went to university. She loved Astronomy. And her mum had been a healer. That was all he knew about her. Purely biographical. And yet a part of him cared for her. Or rather cared for the feeling he had someone out there who would accept him, embrace him without trying to change him. That sounded good to him at least. Better than it ever had been with Evans.
On second thought, maybe he'd head over to Diagon Alley. He did need some frog tails and cockatrice feathers after all. Though, even he knew it was a poor distraction. When he'd be alone later, he knew he'd be focusing once more on the fact that she wasn't there again. That he was alone.
This wonderful witch his future self had risked everything for, his life and freedom. It was all so they could have just a few more moments together. That and so Harry and everyone could have better lives. But he wasn't going to lie to himself as his future self had. It wasn't just so the brat would have a better life. It was part of it, certainly, but it was also for him. The ultimate selfish act.
And what was wrong with being selfish every now and then anyway? Life hadn't been fair to him at all. He might as well get a piece of the pie so to speak. He deserved it. Didn't he?
Nearly twenty minutes later, he had walked through the hidden entrance to Diagon Alley. The street seemed unusually quiet, but he brushed off his gut feeling. Everything was fine. It had to be. The Dark Lord was no more. They had entered a state of peace. One where former Death Eaters were either hung or imprisoned for their supposed crimes, but peace nonetheless. A future where he didn't have to look over his shoulder anymore or lie or be enslaved to two masters of darkness and manipulation.
When he found both apothecaries in Diagon Alley closed, he stopped and briefly considered returning to Hogwarts. That feeling he had dismissed earlier roared to life. Blinking, he glanced around. Almost all shops were boarded up and closed, he noticed. If he hadn't been forced to meet the staff with McGonagall's foolish exercise, he'd have thought for certain that it was the start of the holidays, not the end. What was going on?
He turned around and noticed two Aurors headed in his direction then. Vaguely, he noticed their wands drawn, which didn't make sense. He had been absolved of any crimes he might have committed while in the ranks of the Death Eaters. He had no reason to worry then.
"Professor Snape," one of the Aurors drawled with a wide grin. "How grand it is to come across you here in the middle of Diagon Alley on today of all days."
Severus's gut sent more warnings. No. There was something seriously wrong with this whole situation. The way that Auror had said it . . .
"I'm afraid I don't follow," Severus replied, his eyes darting to both Aurors. When he caught one of the men's eyes swiftly glancing behind him then, the young man whirled around, his wand easily sliding into his hand. However, he was too late. The jet of light struck him hard in the ribs, sending him flying back against a nearby wall. He coughed and pushed himself up from the unforgiving cobblestone. What was going on?
When he saw another jet of light, he threw up a hand and cast a quick protective spell. He was thankful when it bounced off his shield and flew back to the caster. Well, if they wanted a fight, he'd give them one then. He had enough of two—no make that—four against one in his life.
"Grab him!" one of the men shouted.
Severus scrambled to his feet at once. No. He would be damned if they would capture him! He tossed spell after spell, curse after curse, guiding the men back from him with meticulous casting. He had them almost far enough back from him that he could Disapparate from the alley.
"Enough of this!" a man to his left snarled before he slashed his wand violently towards him. "End him! Now!"
Ducking before then rolling to his right, Severus moved away. He didn't know if it was a curse or hex or what the man was going to be throwing at him, but he knew enough to know he didn't want to be hit with whatever it was. He then saw a vial of grey smoke sail through the air. His eyes narrowed on it before he flicked his wand at it, sending the vial smashing against the wall. He turned back, his wand at the ready in case they threw more vials at him.
When he saw a fist flying towards him, he stepped backwards and ducked, his right hand going back against the brick wall to steady himself. Almost instantly afterwards, he felt his vision start to blur. He blinked a few times and shook his head. What was going on? He moved his hand from the wall and glanced at it, noticing a thick film on it.
"Let's see you do magic now, Traitor!" one of the men shouted gleefully.
Severus's eyes narrowed in confusion. What were they talking about? He then saw the four balls of curses headed his way. He threw up a hand, non-verbally casting a protective shield. However, the four jets tore through the air and slammed into him hard. What? Why didn't that work, he wondered. He gripped his wand tighter and slashed it towards them. Every bit of him radiated with his anger, all that he needed for his trademark curse. Nothing happened, though.
When another hex hit him, he slammed back against the wall before he fell onto the cold cobblestone with a loud groan. Why wasn't his magic working anymore?
Someone's boot then slammed hard against the side of his face. Coughing, he tried to hold back his cries of pain. So weak he had become. More boots then slammed into his sides, causing him to squirm and fold in on himself. It was just as it had been during the Marauder's era. Him, utterly alone, attacked by cowards.
He then felt someone yank him up to his feet.
"Like that do you?" the man sneered, his face mere inches from Severus's. "Thank your pathetic Order for it. They created it."
What? The Order was responsible? Nothing made sense anymore. Whatever had occurred during his short time in the Dark Lord's ranks had been wiped away. He was free of that. Why would the Aurors, these Aurors, be attacking him? He had changed sides long before the Dark Lord's defeat.
"Come on, Roderick. Let's kill him already."
"No. Not yet, idiot." The man named Roderick then scoffed before he tossed Severus away from him. "I'm not finished with him yet."
"On the contrary, arseholes, you are quite finished!" a voice snarled suddenly.
Severus lifted his head up as much as he could to glance towards where he had heard the voice. His vision was horribly blurred, though. Who was there?
"Get—" Roderick started to say before he went abruptly silent.
A thump then drew Severus's attention. He winced and groaned silent before he turned his head. His eyes widened as he caught the lifeless body slam down onto cobblestone near him. One of his attackers, he recognized.
"You bitch!" another of his attackers screamed.
A flash of light, and then the man was no longer there. A crack echoed in the deafening silence of the night. Two more cracks then filled the air followed by screams and silence.
Coughing some more, Severus gripped his wand a bit tighter before. Not that it would do any good obviously. He drew in a shaky and raspy breath as he heard someone approach. Blinking, he tried to squint upwards to make out who the figure was. Only shadows stared back at him.
"Who . . . who are you?" When a gentle hand caressed his cheek, he closed his eyes and gasped for air. There was something familiar, yet not about that touch.
"Oh, Severus, what am I going to do with you?" a voice said with a sigh before the hand was removed. "Come on. Focus on me. Just for a bit, please?" The hand then tapped against his cheek.
He tried to comply, wanting to know who the friendly was. It was too difficult, though. So much pain was surging in him. It took him a moment then to realize that a hand was rifling through his pocket in his slacks. He snatched ahold of the slender wrist instantly.
"I'm trying to reach your potions, so knock it off unless you want to keep suffering, git!"
Reach his potions? He hadn't kept vials in his pockets since his early Hogwarts' years. He then blinked as a thought occurred to him. He loosened his grip a bit, but still held on.
"Sinistra?"
"Who else would it be?" the voice replied with an amused snort. "Now, where the hell are your potions? You always have them on you."
"My robes," he murmured before a groan left his lips.
"You're not wearing—oh. Well, who's being a dunderhead now? Honestly." He could hear her disapproval clear as day. "What the hell were you doing here anyway? It's not safe for you."
He swallowed, tasting more of his blood. "Why?" It was all he could ask right now. There were so many questions that needed answers, but that one was the most needed to be answered.
"What do you mean, 'Why?' It's not like the war stopped just because the Dark Lord did. Not to mention, someone—not to name names—had to go about and mess with time."
She knew? How?
"Oh don't even start with me, Severus Snape. This has your name written all over it." Her voice then lowered. "It won't bring Evans back. You can't bring back the dead like that. Do you understand? Messing with time as you did . . . it has serious consequences. Like when you forget to stir a potion a certain way sometimes. It's volatile. And . . . I get what you were doing. I sympathize. I truly do, Severus, but it won't work. It can't. And if you think the Ministry hasn't noticed by now, well, I assure you that you're going to be in for a rude awakening soon. Because they have."
"How?" he groaned, trying to focus on her.
"How, what? How did I notice you decided to throw out every single rule in the book and mess with time? Please. That part was easy. What with that piece of paper you sent me last spring. I'd recognize that messy cursive anywhere. Or did you mean how does the Ministry know?" She scoffed. "Because—oh I don't know—they only have a freaking Department of Mystery room that studies time! Time that you've started to unravel with your foolishness."
Piece of paper he sent? He hadn't sent her anything. He then blinked a few more times, trying to blink back the fuzziness. If he hadn't sent it to her, that meant his future self had. Did she know then that his future self had married her? No. She didn't seem to be head-over-heels in love with him on second glance. She wasn't even touching him as much as he had expected her to do if she did know. She was entirely business-like. Like Narcissa had been. Like . . .
"The last time something like this happened was back in the late 1890s and caused Thursday to be only four hours long," she stated. "Course you wouldn't know that because you found Astronomy and all its related subjects to be inferior to that of your precious Potions."
It was like she was mad at him for something, but he couldn't understand what she was going on about currently. Other than the fact that she had received a note from his future self that she thought he had sent to her. He groaned and pressed his hand against his head. The pain was getting worse.
"I'd take you to St. Mungo's if I could," she said with a sigh a moment later, "but you'd likely run into more of those arseholes. And I'm really not supposed to be here right now. If—here. Drink this." She brought a vial to his lips. When he moved away, she clenched her teeth and glared at him. "Severus, for the love of Circe, drink the damn stuff or I'll shove it down your throat, you stubborn arse. It'll help with the pain and . . . just drink it!"
"What is it?"
"Why must you question everything?" she scoffed. "It's some sort of analgesic mixed with something to bring back your magic since they drugged you earlier. I don't know. Mum made it at Dumbledore's request. Now, drink it before it can't work anymore. Unless you want to be without your magic the rest of your life?"
"I don't understand."
"Obviously. Now, just trust me and drink it."
"How do you—"
"Severus, trust me! I mean, Circe, do you honestly believe—" Her eyes then darted away as she turned to look at something. "Time up," she said quietly before she turned back with a sad frown. "I'm sorry, but I have to." She then moved her hand to rest against his chest. The moment he felt her hand, he felt his body contract before the darkness surrounded him. His vision started to tunnel. "Stay at Hogwarts, Severus. Stay with your son. Please? Or I'll give Dem permission to hex your arse worse than Black and Potter ever did."
When he felt her kiss his forehead, he tightened his grip on her wrist. No. She couldn't leave. Not yet. Not when he didn't know what the hell was going on.
"Forgive me."
"How is he? Is he conscious yet? What happened? I don't understand."
Severus groaned as the questions echoed around him. His head lulled to the side as he slowly woke up. Inhaling deeply, he smelled the familiar antiseptic scent of Hogwarts's hospital wing. She had taken him to Hogwarts? He groaned and coughed as he felt a brief flicker of pain.
"Severus?" McGonagall was the one who was speaking to him. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes," he replied, his voice rough from disuse. He turned towards the older witch and sighed inwardly. It was only McGonagall and Pomfrey in the room.
"You were attacked. Now, I've managed to heal your injuries, but you're going to have to take it easy for a few days, Professor," Pomfrey stated with pursed lips. She clearly had more to say. Luckily for him, McGonagall wasn't going to be deterred.
"What were you doing there, Severus? You could have been killed!"
"Professor Dumbledore—"
"You think they give a damn about him and his word anymore?" she snapped. "All they know is what they've read in reports. And even then, they likely don't even care."
"They're Aurors," he argued.
"And your point in that is, what? The Ministry isn't immune to darkness, Severus. I've seen it with my own eyes. Why else would I have left that damned place and come here?" She pinched her lips together tightly before she shook her head when he didn't respond. "I shouldn't have drawn attention to you earlier with the others. I know that. You've never been one to want that sort of attention on you. I just thought it'd be a good exercise for all of us to start over with. To trust one another. I apologize, Severus. But do not ever do that again. Do not leave the castle. Not now. Not with all that is going on out there. You could have died, and we'd not have known it if it hadn't been for Miss Le Fey."
His eyes narrowed on her. "What?"
"She's who found you and brought you to us."
"No. Aurora found me." He caught their brief looks of confusion and frowned even more. She had been the one to find him, not Demetri Le Fay. He was certain of it.
"That's impossible."
"I think I know who—"
"You couldn't have seen her. She's been in Italy since graduating from university. She made it very clear that she'd never return to England. I even offered her the chance to interview for the open Astronomy position this summer, and she declined."
"It was her, Minerva." He watched her glance towards the matron helplessly.
"We should let you rest, Severus," Pomfrey stated suddenly with a feigned polite smile.
"No. It was her," he argued.
"I'm sure it was, dear."
Why didn't they believe him? It had been Sinistra. He knew it was her. He then watched both witches turn and leave him alone in the hospital wing again. It was Sinistra who saved him. Sighing, he settled back against his cot. He was still too tired, it seemed, to fight.
As he drew his knees up and curled onto his side, he felt something in his pocket. His brows furrowed before he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a slip of folded parchment. He opened it a moment later and noticed his handwriting instantly staring up from the note. This had to have been the sheet Aurora had been talking about earlier. It seemed to be a formula for the time travel his future self had used. His fingers then brushed against the one line that he knew wasn't his. It was too elegant.
Fixed moment
It's what his future self had claimed when he had first arrived last November with Harrison. Evans' and Potter's deaths were fixed moments. They couldn't be changed. He sighed softly and folded the note back up. There were too many questions now and not enough answers.
Closing his eyes, he waited for sleep to come. He knew his dad was probably still down in the dungeons with his son. McGonagall probably alerted him to Severus's predicament. Yet his dad wasn't there either. Alone. He was so sick and tired of being alone. Was it too difficult to ask for a friend? Someone he could count on that wasn't related by blood?
But she had been there. The note was proof. So, then why did everyone else believe it had been the foul-mouthed American professor that had saved him? Why did Sinistra not show herself? What was going on? And the Aurors . . . he had expected some push back, but that was different. That was hatred and anger.
When he'd wake later, he'd speak with Miss Le Fay. Clearly, she knew more than she was letting on. And perhaps they could get on the right foot with one another. Not that he cared if they did or not. He just needed answers. And she seemed to know a few to some of his questions.
Until then . . .