Chapter 17

This is here:

"This is giving me a headache," Ron said loudly, revelling in the fact that there was no Madam Pince in the library to tell them off. The young man had jumped at the opportunity to make their research more comfortable and brought several jugs of pumpkin juice, numerous bottles of butterbeer and an assortment of sweets into the library. Hermione had frowned at him until he'd presented her with a box of her favourite Muggle Belgian chocolates; every protest against food in the library had died on her lips at that point.

"You're not actually doing anything," Harry felt compelled to point out, poking his wand at a book in front of him. The spell was supposed to scan the book for certain key words – Hermione had designed it herself and was immensely proud of the fact that Headmistress McGonagall was now considering putting it on the Hogwarts curriculum – but it was clear that he hadn't quite got it yet: The book let out a huge sneeze, rose a foot above the table and flapped in a sort of indignant way before crashing down again.

Ron snickered. "Good one, mate."

"I hate you." Harry stared gloomily at the pile of books stacked in front of him and then stood up, pulling the invisibility cloak over his head as he went. "I'm going to go and get the bowl from our room. Maybe it'll be an inspiration, who knows?"

Hermione nodded absent-mindedly, her nose buried in a dusty piece of parchment in front of her. "Be careful, Harry."

Harry wandered through an empty and quiet Hogwarts. It was the summer holidays; all the students had gone home, most of the teachers had left as well and even the ghosts seemed to be lying low. It was a sunny day outside, and tiny specks of dust were dancing in the air where sunlight was streaming through the windows. After picking up the bowl from the room he shared with Ron and Hermione, Harry found a large window sill and perched on top of it, staring outside.

It had been years since he'd been at Hogwarts; after taking his NEWTs he'd rarely looked back at a school career full of rather embarrassing incidents and painful memories. His dawning realisation that he was gay halfway through third year; the huge number of blazing rows with Neville all the way through fourth year; his father's death and the howler Sirius had sent him in the middle of breakfast when he'd come out to his mother. Regulus Black, standing tall in front of the board and explaining wordless magic, his eyes never leaving Harry's face – or had that been his imagination? The day Ron and Hermione had died, a sunny day just like this one; and their blood – there had been so much blood – looking impossibly red on the green grass.

No; he'd been glad to leave Hogwarts behind – he still was.

Getting up, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak tighter about himself and then started walking down the corridor. Suddenly he stopped and turned to his left, frowning.

He was standing in front of the wall leading to the Room of Requirement.

This isn't:

Harry woke up in his own bed to find the curtains in the room drawn back and early morning sunlight shining through the window. He stretched sleepily and was relieved to find that the pain in his back was mostly gone; nothing remained but an itching soreness that was sure to fade over the next couple of days. For the first time since the fight at the Ministry Harry felt well-rested and energetic; he got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom, contemplating whether he could skip Quidditch practice today or not.

He put on the clothes Severus had laid out for him, loose-fitting jeans, a black shirt and an equally black robe that ended slightly below his knees. By the lack of Quidditch training robes Harry guessed that the other man didn't mean for him to go to work either and it was with a relieved smile on his lips that he entered the kitchen where Severus had already prepared breakfast for the two of them.

"Morning!" Harry said cheerfully and plopped down on his chair, helping himself to toast and tea.

"Harry." Severus nodded and sat down opposite him. "I trust you've slept well."

"Like a stone. I'm sorry I didn't come and talk to you yesterday but I was knackered. I must have slept for, what, twenty hours? I've never done that before. I didn't know anybody could sleep that long, let alone me."

"You were exhausted. And you used a lot of magic in a very short amount of time at a point where you really should have been in hospital instead of on your feet. Your body needed to recuperate and I suspect your mind as well."

"Sounds reasonable."

Harry took a bite off his toast, chewed and then asked, "So, how come you're able to do wandless magic? I thought it was impossible to focus your magic without a wand."

"It doesn't work like ordinary magic. It's more temperamental, if you will. I can only do half a dozen wandless spells and it took me years to master them. I've been practising the Patronus charm since before you were born."

"Blimey," Harry said softly and cleared his throat. "I suppose I just wanted to say... Thank you. For everything. For helping me. I'm sorry Sirius blasted the Time Turners into oblivion. I – There was nothing I could do."

"You don't have to apologise," Severus said, startled, "I know it's not your fault. It's not even Sirius' fault, as much as I'd like to blame that flea-bitten mongrel. He didn't know, after all. And it's not me who's stuck in the wrong dimension."

"But your Harry will also be stuck in my world."

"Harry is resourceful. He always has been, getting himself and everybody around him into trouble. I believe in him. He will find a way to come back even if we don't."

I believe in him.

The words hung between them and Harry ducked his head, blushing.

A moment later Severus started reading the morning newspaper. Harry polished off his breakfast – a full English, Severus hadn't even left out the Black Pudding – and revelled in the quiet domesticity. He'd just started to carry the dishes over to the sink when the door bell rang.

"Are we expecting someone? Muggle perhaps?" Harry asked.

Severus shook his head and went to open the door; Harry followed him.

"Mum!" he exclaimed upon seeing Lily Potter standing outside, nervously playing with the strap of her hand bag.

"Harry. Severus. May I come in?"

"Of course. Harry and I were just having breakfast. Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee, maybe?"

"A cup of coffee would be lovely, thanks."

Severus had transformed into a perfectly amicable but slightly distanced host the minute Lily had entered the house; he offered her a seat in the living room and then went to the kitchen to prepare their drinks. Harry sat down opposite his mother but Lily patted on the seat beside her and said, "Come and sit with me, if you don't mind."

Harry obeyed, although he was slightly puzzled by her request. Once he'd sat down his mother didn't speak but instead looked around the room with barely disguised curiosity.

"I've never been here before," she finally remarked, "Harry – you – has been living here for two years and I never once visited. I had to ask Remus for directions, can you imagine? I'm sure that makes me a bad mother."

Harry frowned at her unusual choice of words. "I don't think that at all," he tried to comfort her. Lily let out a bitter laugh as Severus entered the room, putting down steaming cups in front of them.

"And how would you know?" she asked and Harry saw that she'd started to cry. He threw a panicked look at Severus but the other man merely raised an eyebrow at him, a befuddled expression on his face.

"I don't know what you mean," Harry said slowly.

"You're not my son," the witch said bluntly. "I talked to Albus last night and he told me everything."

Severus let out a soft, "Oh dear."

"You didn't tell me!" Lily suddenly exclaimed and both men flinched.

"I'm your mother – and you didn't see it fit to tell me that you're not actually my son! This has been going on for weeks and you simply kept on pretending! I'm his mother, Severus! I had a right to know!"

"And what a fine job you've done there, Lily," Severus said silkily. "You never even noticed that anything was amiss. Not very observant of you, was it?"

"How dare you accuse me, Severus Snape!" Lily hissed, nearly trembling with rage, "How dare you! You took my Harry made him into this – this -"

"Go on," the other wizard spat, "Say it! For once in your life tell me what you actually think of me! Your disapproval has been hanging over Harry's head for years, but you've never said a thing. Oh no, you just brushed him off and ignored him and when that didn't work you had Sirius to hide behind. So tell me! I'll be sure to pass the message on to Harry once he gets back."

Harry got the distinct feeling that he'd more or less ceased to exist once Severus and Lily had started fighting. Neither of them were looking at him and they were referring to the other Harry with an ease that made it appear as if he had simply stepped out of the room, due to return any minute.

"You're a bad influence on him!" Lily screamed and then clapped a hand over her mouth as if shocked at her own outburst. "Harry is twenty years old whereas you went to school with me and James – you're old enough to be his father! You're a social outcast living in a Godforsaken cottage in the middle of nowhere, in Yorkshire of all places, and Harry's career demands socialising with all sorts of people! That won't happen if he spends every single night with you sitting in front of the fireplace, will it? Harry's young, he's good-looking, he's popular -"

"He's everything I'm not?"

"Yes! The whole world would be open to him but you, you've got him and won't let him go! Merlin knows it was bad enough when he told us he was gay but I'm fine with that now. Really, I am. But this!" she made a sweeping motion with her arms. "This is a travesty! He's twenty years old for heaven's sake and he lives in a house his grandparents would approve of!"

The ensuing silence was only broken when Harry cleared his throat.

"Excuse me," he said softly, "I know you probably think it's none of my business because I'm not really your son, but I'm still him, in a way. And I like it here. I like this house. It's calm and... warm."

Lily snorted disbelievingly and leaned back on the sofa, crossing her legs. She didn't seem to notice that tears were still rolling down her cheeks; or if she did she didn't care.

"Well," Severus said, "This has certainly been... illuminating. Still, this begs the question: Why are you here? Was is just to communicate your maternal concern to us? In which case you're quite welcome to leave at any point in the near future."

"Oh, I'll leave soon, don't you worry," the witch snapped and then visibly tried to control her temper, going for a more civil tone. "I suspect Albus had a reason fore telling me about this. I had to wait until Gringotts opened this morning to get it or I would have come sooner."

She opened her hand bag and took a shining Time Turner from it, putting it one the table between them.

"But that's a Time Turner," Harry said dumbly, reaching out and touching it tentatively.

"Oh yes," Lily confirmed. "A Time Turner with a range of about fifty years. More than enough for your purposes."

"But how...?"

"It's a family heirloom. It's belonged to the Potters for centuries and they were too proud to give it up when the ban came in. It's been in my Gringotts vault for years."

"I told you that some wizarding families might have kept their Time Turners," Severus reminded him, "They're a sign of prestige even when not in use. And the Potters were – are – a pureblood family going back centuries, one long line of powerful Gryffindor witches and wizards. It makes sense for them to have kept their Time Turner."

"And you had this all the time," Harry said, stunned, "Oh Merlin, you had this all the time! If we'd told you – If I'd told you everything..."

"You could have avoided a lot of pain and misery," Lily finished the sentence for him. "Can you understand me now, understand my anger?"

"There was no way we could have known that you were in possession of a Time Turner," Severus cut in. "I considered it briefly before discarding the idea just as quickly."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because James Potter is still dead. I though if you'd had any chance to turn back time you would have prevented James' death."

"And who's to say I didn't try?" Lily asked bitterly. "I did. Albus warned me. Sirius was nearly read to stun me to prevent me from going. But I went and nothing I did helped. In the end I watched James die. I would have sacrificed everything for him to live – but what do you know, it wasn't mean to be. I locked the Time Turner away after that and destroyed every single reference to it in the family documents. I wanted it to be forgotten."

"Until now."

"I want my son back. I want to start fixing things; I want to make them right as far as I can."

"Ever if your son is a queer Quidditch-playing cowards who shirks his duties towards the Order?" Severus asked acidly.

"Don't say that!" Lily snapped. "I'm trying. I'll try, I promise. It's just... hard."

"It hasn't been easy on him either."

"Bring him back, Severus," Lily said, "Use this so I can make things right."

"I'll try."

Harry, in the meanwhile, had picked up the Time Turner and was studying it intently. When Hermione had got one in third year so she'd be able to attend all of her classes it had been a rather small object, something she could wear as a necklace. This one, on the other hand, was large and golden. The sand inside was of a dark grey colour and glittered as he slowly twisted the Time Turner in his hands.

He could go back.

His mother's visit had come completely out of the blue. After all, who would have thought that Dumbledore's remark about doors opening when others close would turn out to be quite a bit more substantial than his usual cryptic comments? But now Harry could simply take the Time Turner and give it some twists if he so wished, watch the now around him disappear.

"Harry," Lily put a hand on his arm and he looked up, startled out of his reverie.

"I'm sorry. I should have been more motherly I suppose. Caring. Albus told me your parents died when you were a baby?"

Harry nodded.

"Who did you grow up with?"

"The Dursleys," Harry said and derived guilty satisfaction at watching the witch pale.

"But Petunia hates magic!" she exclaimed, "Or is it different in your world?"

"Not really, no. But it's all right. I went to Hogwarts and I haven't seen them in years."

"I wish I could have known you better. If only I'd paid more attention..."

"It's all right," Harry repeated awkwardly, not knowing what else to add.

"I'll be going then. May I use your Floo?"

"Of course. There's powder in the box next to the pictures."

Lily smiled at the photograph of herself and James resting on the mantel piece, a picture taken in much happier days. She warmly embraced Harry who'd come to stand beside her and wouldn't let go for a long time. Harry buried his face in her hair, inhaling the clean scent. This woman before him was his mother; and yet she was not and never would be. He wasn't even sure whether he would miss her once he got back home.

Lily released him with a last squeeze and nodded at Severus before stepping into the fireplace, disappearing in a shower of green sparks.

Harry and Severus stayed behind in the living room, both of their gazes inevitably drawn towards the Time Turner sitting on the table in front of them.

It was some hours later that Harry walked next to Severus, both of them silent on their way from Hogsmeade to the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

They'd Apparated to the wizarding village, with Harry clinging to Severus' arm, a hint of desperation in his touch. Both of them had barely exchanged a dozen words since Lily had left; Harry had crossed the room to pick up the Time Turner and Severus had abruptly excused himself, saying that he had preparations to make. Harry had listened to him moving around the house: the soft click of the bedroom door, the flushing of the toilet; the kettle boiling in the kitchen – it was too early to bring out the alcohol, they'd have to make do with tea – and clinking glass as Severus had packed a small leather bag that he was now carrying over his shoulder.

Harry himself had collapsed in the armchair, the Time Turner still in his hands.

He had nothing to pack, nothing to prepare; his journey would be made in mind only.

Now they were walking side by side until they reached some bushes near the lake. Severus stopped and put down the bag.

"This is it, I think. You should remain undetected if you use the Time Turner here."

Harry shuffled his feet.

"Harry," the other man said gently, "It's time."

He nodded jerkily.

Severus let out a sigh. "There's so much that... But never mind that now. I've put some water in the bag, as well as Pepper Up potion. Take it before you look into the bowl and you should only stay unconscious for a short amount of time, if at all. There's some vials in there, memories. I'd be grateful if you could give them to my counterpart if you ever meet him."

"Before I kill him, you mean?" Harry asked, but his heart simply couldn't come up with enough hate to make the statement ring true. He didn't know how he would react if he met Snape now, but he doubted that he'd attack him in a mindless rage like he'd attacked Severus upon waking up in this strange new world.

"I will," he promised. "What's in them?"

"That is for him to tell you, if he so wishes."

"All right."

"There's something for you as well. Don't open it now."

"So this is goodbye?" Harry asked.

"I... suppose so."

"I don't know what to say," he admitted. "I've been wanting to get back and no that I can... It's all a bit sudden.

"It is," Severus confirmed, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'll tell Remus you said goodbye?"

"Please. And my mum... And Sirius, I guess he knows all about it by now. Just tell them – Oh, it doesn't matter."

"All those people who are dead in your world. I'm sorry, Harry, that it has to be this way."

"Don't be. 'S not your fault, is it? And I could have ended up somewhere even more random, you could have been my dad or something."

Harry managed a small smile as Severus grimaced in distaste at the thought.

"I'll be fine," he assured the other man, "I'm going home! It's a happy occasion... I should be happy."

"But you're not?"

"I am," Harry said unconvincingly, "I will be. I don't have a choice."

He picked up the bag that contained the bowl and slipped the chain with the Time Turner over his head.

"I'll send him back to you," he promised.

"Harry..." Severus reached out as if to grasp his hand and all of a sudden his image blurred as tears rose in Harry's eyes. He was making a fool of himself, he knew it, and yet this was his last chance. His only chance.

Stepping forward, he pressed a fleeting kiss against Severus' lips, a salty taste mingling in the space between their mouths.

"Thank you," he whispered against the other man's ear and swallowed down the words he wanted to say but couldn't, not now, not ever.

He started to spin the Time Turner while still in Severus' arms and the wizard faded in front of his eyes, being enveloped in the grey mist of his own tears and time spinning and shifting back until the only thing that remained was the ghost touch of warm lips against his own.