Nothing changes more constantly than the past; for the past that influences our lives does not consist of what actually happened, but of what men believe happened.
- Gerald W. Johnson

"Severus Snape is an important historical character," John Sable's generally humourless personality eliminated any possibility that he was joking. "He is here from the year 1998," he stopped long enough to clap a choking Toreth on the back, "We need to keep him here."

"At I&I?"

"In this time."

"How did he get here and what's to stop him going back? Why would we even want to keep him around?"

"You do not need to know how he got here or why we want him to stick around but it is your duty to keep him here… by any means necessary. I have compiled a brief background on him. We have no reason to believe that he is gay as his only known romantic interest was a woman. Red hair, green eyes, there's more information about her in the file," as he handed Toreth a hand screen. "Read it and memorize it."

In other words the digital memory would self-erase soon.

Sable sipped on his drink and looked around the large, hectic impersonal food court while Toreth read. Not even he was completely informed about why The Council wanted to keep Snape around but he suspected it had something to do with the changes in the central history records.

For centuries students had been taught one history of The Administration: that back in the late 1990s a war in the secret society of British wizards and witches escalated to the point where it spilled into the non-magical or 'Muggle' world. Their prophesised hero, one Harry Potter, was supposed to have been destined to kill a despot calling himself Lord Voldemort. Potter had to destroy some magically imbibed objects called horcruxes before he could kill the so-called 'Dark Lord' but seemed unable to ever destroy them all. Six were identified and six were destroyed and still the Dark Lord would not die.

Decade after decade he returned, each time more psychotic than the reincarnation before and each time Potter tried unsuccessfully to get rid of him. For a while, the magical folk protected their Chosen One at the sacrifice of many of their lives but then they turned on him; clearly the prophecy was incorrect. By the late 2030s, millions of the magical and non-magical alike had died under Voldemort's tyranny. Muggle governments and their armies had also tried and failed to destroy him.

By 2041 the separation between the magical and non-magical worlds had completely disappeared and a young 'Muggle born' history student discovered the secret to success in a discarded charmed parchment. Severus Snape, an alchemist the wizards called a 'Potions Master', was believed to have been a loyal follower of the Voldemort, the so-called Dark Lord. He was also professor of Potions at the magical school called Hogwarts Academy sent to spy on the Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization of the 'good guys' led by an enigmatic character called Albus Dumbledore, the school's headmaster. Snape was killed in 1998 in some sort of magical fire. His death had gone largely un-mourned. He was a less than amiable character and Potter had led a vilification of his hated former professor since Snape had murdered Dumbledore a year before.

However, in war, things are never simple and straightforward and Snape was one of the most complex characters of the era. He was in fact faithful to the Order and the apparent murder of Dumbledore was part of an elaborate plan designed by the supposed victim himself; a plan whose details he had entrusted primarily to Snape. Potter was a horcrux and the key to killing Voldemort wasn't in the boy being the only one who could kill him as the people believed. Rather, the Chosen One's death was the necessary precursor to the Dark Lord's death. As long as Potter lived, Voldemort would never truly die.

Evidently, neither Snape nor Dumbledore had been confident in the spy's likelihood of surviving the war and each independently of the other had left instructions on charmed parchments for Potter. Unfortunately the boy's hatred was such that he discarded Snape's missive unread and dismissed Dumbledore's request that he believe Snape as the misguided words of a man betrayed by someone he believed to be a friend. It was Snape's parchment that the Muggle-born university student discovered in 2041.

The world was desperate by that time though so they were willing to heed the words and together the Wizarding and Muggle governments conspired to offer Potter as a sacrifice. They arrested, tortured and broke him down until he agreed to use something called a Killing Curse on the Dark Lord. Sable had never understood how anyone expected the kid to be a hero if he had always refused to kill. At any rate, Potter was killed by his nemesis and his first and only killing curse sent in the moments before his own death had in turn eviscerated the Dark Lord for good. After decades of darkness and terror, the two main characters had died almost simultaneously in less than the blink of an eye.

After the war, the non-magical community decided to obliterate magic. The desperation of the nations of the world had resulted in the gradual evolution of global and regional governments into what would become The Administration. For centuries The Administration took care of its citizens and everyone knew this history.

Until that morning when Snape materialized in the Int-Sec grounds and the records changed.

The bulk of the history did not change – the war had still dragged on because Potter hated Snape but now Snape had not died but rather was transported to a time unknown by a rogue magical object called a Time Turner. The courtyard and Snape's person had been searched but the Time Turner had not been located. He did not need to be told to know that The Administration was concerned about the changing history books. As it was, even Sable and his colleagues were beginning to forget that things had ever been different, after all whatever changes happen in the past become the future's past. He did not in fact know why he was even aware that there had been a change but whatever The Administration had done to him over the years, his resistance to change was slowly being worn down.

The history records were now showing that over the centuries, resister groups had tried summoning Snape, practically worshipping the man as their hero. They believed that if he returned to the war, he would have somehow been able to organize Potter's death earlier and save the world from Voldemort's atrocities before the Muggles could discover magic and therefore eliminate the need for The Administration.

"He sounds… complex," Toreth interrupted his thoughts. "What exactly do you expect me to do to keep him here? If this magic… thing," he rotated his wrists and barely refrained from rolling his eyes, "if it exists, no amount of arresting him and locking him away will keep him here."

"No, it won't. But Citizen Surveillance has created an identity for him," he handed a folder to Toreth. "You need to convince him that life in our time is so attractive that he does not want to return to his own. Show him a good time, introduce him to the right people. Just keep him here."

The para choked on his coffee for the second time that evening as he read the profile. "He's a transfer para-investigator from Rome? You want him to work at I&I?"

"I believe that you will find him suited to the job."

Somehow Toreth doubted that but he intended to have fun finding out. Not everyone was capable of torturing others. How scary could a magician in a black dress be?

Toreth leaned sideways on the two way mirror, watching Snape watching a top secret Level 8 interrogation using the old P&P. The prisoner was broken, crying and pleading, nose dribbling and mouth drooling but his guest showed no sign of queasiness or horror. In fact, he seemed rather fascinated with the process. Indeed, he rather seemed fascinated with everything about their world. Fascinated but distinctly unimpressed if his sneers were anything to go by. And his sneers were basically all Toreth had to go by because Snape wasn't much of a talker.

"What?" Snape suddenly turned to glare at him.

"I'm wondering what you're thinking. Don't get me wrong, it's a relief that you're not one of these fucking morons who ask a million questions and engage in 'small talk'," they both shuddered slightly, "but I can't help but wonder what you think about all this."

"So you hope to read the answer on my nose?" a bemused smirk was accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

"Your no-? No, I was just checking you out."

"No amount of staring will render me any more attractive to you," Snape scowled before returning to his observation of the room.

He had a point so Toreth didn't insult them both by arguing. Still he had to admit that he was feeling a bit of a tingle of interest. Snape was clearly fascinated by the job and that acceptance was something Toreth hadn't even realized he wanted but it made the man... attractive.

He had a steady… thing, with Warrick, which he had no interest in giving up. Warrick knew him and understood him and trusted him. Combined with their brilliant sex and Warrick's somewhat tolerance of Toreth's fucking around, life was as good as Toreth felt it was going to get. They'd even recently moved in together. However Toreth's job was a non-topic because Warrick hated it. 'I fuck you, not your job' was his oft-repeated defence.

It was okay though because Toreth had Sara, who was his admin and the only other person in the world that he trusted. And when neither of them met his needs, he'd go find a night's entertainment on the town. He did not do repeat business; Warrick was his only serious… lover.

"You're still staring," Snape turned to look at him but this time he turned those intense black eyes on Toreth. He loved Warrick's dark eyes though Snape's were much darker, and both had a tendency to be intense. Warrick also had a bit too much nose though his was still considerably smaller than Snape's.

He couldn't quite tell what Snape's body looked like. Though the man had been bought I&I uniforms and no longer wore his robes, as apparently the dress was called, he now wore a black duster which still managed to cover his body. He appeared to be rail thin though. Warrick had a beautiful body.

"Who is Warrick and why are you comparing me to him?"

Toreth started at the bizarre query. Even if Snape had heard about him and Warrick from someone in the office, though who it could have been considering that everyone avoided this unfriendly time traveller, it would not explain how he knew that Toreth had been comparing them.

"What?" When in doubt, play dumb, don't guess. Snape wasn't cooperating though and merely raised that condescending brow before turning away with a smirk.

"So, do you think you can do this job? I can organize for a quick training course for you, say, tomorrow?"

"I taught hundreds of magical teenage brats for over a decade and I interrogated some of the sharpest wizards of my time, I think I can handle this, barbaric though it may be. In my time I used different, better, methods," Snape drawled. "Although, I also used potions; who makes yours? I wish to examine them more closely- your potions and, perhaps, your Potions Master."

"I think you'll find dealing with high level criminals a bit more difficult than some teenagers." Toreth smirked. "Even if they were 'magical'. Our drugs and serums are made by our pharmacology department. Come, let me introduce you to my friend, Daedra. I think you'll like her."

Toreth assumed that the highly technical conversation between Snape and Daedra was successful. He certainly had never seen the man quite so animated or verbose. The only part he paid attention to was when Snape suggested he 'brew' some of his potions for comparison with the modern medicines. Toreth particularly enjoyed experimenting with Daedra's drugs and rather suspected Snape could brew a mean cocktail.

"Toreth?" Daedra had apparently called his name before. "Will you volunteer or would you prefer for me to volunteer while you observe?"

He noticed that Snape had his stick in his hand. He twirled the narrow piece of wood between long fingers. Toreth found the act oddly seductive and hypnotic. He found the oddest things about the man to be hypnotic. The only thing traditionally attractive about the so-called wizard was what Sara called his mocha voice. Dark, rich and sweet like chocolate but with a tendency to be bitter as coffee, it had the stimulating effect of caffeine. Toreth looked forward to hearing it during sex. In fact, the more time he spent with Snape, the more he looked forward to seeing that carefully controlled face contort with pleasure.

"If you are afraid…" Snape's smirk was mocking and irritated Toreth. He didn't know what he was supposed to be afraid of because he hadn't been listening but he certainly wasn't afraid of 'magic'.

"No, I'm not afraid. Go ahead, do your little 'magic' thing."

Snape seemed to sneer and smirk at the same time. "Well, Daedra," he seemed to struggle with all forms of casual conversation. He still insisted on calling Sara 'Ms Lovelady' 80% of the time. "Which spell would you like to witness first?"

"Um, well, I'd really like to see the torture one, the Cruci- Cruciatus? However my guess is that Toreth might lose interest after that." Snape nodded his agreement so she continued, "how about the Imperius?"

"Perhaps we should leave the Unforgiveables for last, hmm? Why don't I start with a Babbling Curse?" he asked as he muttered something in an ancient language and flicked the stick.

"Babba bub babba?" Toreth tried to ask but to his surprise only foolish babbling came from his lips. How odd considering that he hadn't felt anything. He swallowed and tried again, "Booboo, ba gaga?" Even speaking slowly and carefully resulted in foolish words. Toreth massaged his throat nervously but shook his head. He didn't believe in magic. He wouldn't believe in magic.

Still, he was now eyeing Snape warily as the man flicked his stick again. "What fuck did you do?" he hissed, this time in perfectly normal speech. "Fuck!"

"Why don't I show you the Conjunctivitis curse next?" Snape asked Daedra, completely ignoring Toreth. He once again flicked his stick and Toreth found himself crying out as the most intense pain seemed to radiate through his eyes. He struggled to control the cry but after what felt like hours but was certainly less than a minute, Snape flicked his stick again and the pain was gone.

"What did you feel?" Daedra looked at him with wonder. "Did it hurt?"

"Did it…? Did it fucking hurt? Daedra, you know me. Do you really think I'd volunteering cry out like a fucking girl? It felt like he split that fucking stick of his into splinters then poked it in my eyes and set them on fire! Fucker!"

"It's a wand," Snape corrected dismissively and continued speaking to Daedra, "Next we will observe the Densaugeo."

Toreth ran to the mirror to see just why Daedra's eyeballs had almost popped from her head. He accidentally bit his tongue and cut his lips on his ridiculously oversized teeth. "Sixth shit!" Toreth snarled. "Sick shit!" he tried again and this time Snape muttered the counter-curse. "Damn it Snape, I said fix it!"

Toreth was fast losing his sense of humour with these foolish party tricks. He didn't know how Snape was doing what he was doing but he couldn't help but feel a little fear of anyone who could do what the man was doing with a few words and a flick of a stick.

"Give me that!" he yanked the stick from Snape and moved to the pencil sharpener. He'd show Snape what he thought of his stupid wand! See how impressive he would be then.

"Toreth, no! What are you doing? You can't destroy it!"

"Accio wand!" Snape commanded and the damn thing pulled from Toreth's hand and flew across to room to its owner. Toreth's eyes widened. "Levicorpus!"

To his horror, embarrassment and fascination, Toreth felt as though an invisible hand had grabbed him by the ankle and he was now hanging upside down, suspended in mid air.

Daedra quickly quieted her own screams by biting her hand.

"You do NOT destroy a wizard's wand, Muggle!" Snape hissed, his black eyes blazing with rage. "Crucio!"

In training school they'd each gotten a miniscule taste of the neural induction probe. That had been mild in comparison to this pain. He felt his bones on fire, his head splitting open and his mind being torn asunder. He was insanely grateful when Snape released him from the suspension and more importantly, the magical torture. No wonder the fucker wasn't impressed by a Level 8 interrogation if he could do this without getting his hands dirty. Why the hell did Citizen Surveillance want to keep Snape around? Toreth imagined Snape being put in charge of high level interrogations. With the power to inflict this sort of torture without even touching the victim, there would be no need to unofficially or officially authorize the old upper level interrogations.

"Fuck," his legs wobbled precariously as he tried to stand. "Fucking hell, Snape. Just… fuck!"

"Shall we continue?"

"No!" both Toreth and Daedra yelled at once.

"Hell, Snape! After what you just did to me, you expect me to just continue?"

"I have had to do much more after longer and multiple bouts of that curse. Hell, even Potter was able to escape the Dark Lord's clutches and save the body of his peer after been exposed to the Cruciatus- and he was only fourteen at the time!"

"OK, okay, fine. Whatever, your magical people are amazing. This Potter kid you're always on about is amazing. Just don't fucking wand me anymore."

"I'm not 'always on about Potter!" Snape denied and Toreth rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry Toreth. I didn't realize," Daedra eyed the wand speculatively. "I don't want to do anything painful again but," she swallowed audibly, "perhaps you can show me, on me, what the Langlock looks like?" Snape muttered something and flicked his wand and suddenly she grabbed her mouth. She looked so terrified that Toreth considered intervening but Snape spoke the counter-curse and Daedra excitedly exclaimed, "That was amazing! I didn't even feel anything but then when I went to tell you so, my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth! I mean literally stuck to the roof of my mouth, Toreth! Amazing! Please, another one. What about the Tarantella one?"

"Tarantallegra," Snape corrected before starting the curse. To their amusement, Daedra began dancing wildly.

"Whoa! Whoa! I can't stop it!"

"Enough!" Snape stopped the spell. "I will show you how to make amazing potions. If this foolish wand waving impresses you, I can show you more! Better! With potions you can re-grow bones, heal burns, stop nightmares, breathe under water," he looked at Toreth as he said that last one, "One can brew glory, put a stopper… in death!"

Toreth looked away from the black eyes. Though he would much rather not believe in it, he had seen and felt magic at work. He was now convinced that Snape could read his mind, literally. How else would he have known Toreth's fear of drowning? Senior Para-Investigator Val Toreth did not back down from anyone… except Severus Snape. Though he would die before he ever admitted it to anyone.

"I wish to go shopping or harvesting," Snape said to him when they had returned to his office and Sara had brought them coffee. Sara did not serve coffee; she was not his office maid. It was merely her excuse to eavesdrop on his conversations.

"Shopping or harvest- harvesting?" Toreth couldn't hide his shock at the request. Where the hell did Snape think they were?

"Erm, I don't think there's anywhere to go harvesting in New London," Sara invited herself to the conversation. "But I can definitely help you with the shopping if you'd like! What do you need to buy? New clothes? Cuz I know just the place," she babbled hopefully. Snape's eyes unnerved her which was an achievement in itself. Sara was not easily intimidated.

"I have already been provided with an entire wardrobe in my new flat. I require food and potions ingredients. I also wish to look for my own kind so I suppose a tour of New London would not be unappreciated."

"They didn't put any food in your flat?" Sara looked ready to scold whoever was responsible for the oversight. She reminded Snape of Minerva and he briefly wondered how the war was proceeding… or rather, how it had gone without him.

"There were things in cans, boxes and bags with pictures of food on them but there was nothing fresh. I require fresh fruits, vegetables, herbs, meats and fish," he stopped at the looks that Toreth and Sara shared. "Will this be a problem?"

Sara shuffled her feet uncomfortably and Toreth shrugged. "Fresh things are rare these days. I think I was already in my thirties before I ever even tasted a fresh fruit. The processed crap is good enough for most of us. You can survive on it, I guess," he shrugged unapologetically.

"Maybe Warrick can show him," Sara swallowed her words nervously at Toreth's glare. She had only just regained some of his trust after foolishly revealing his secrets to Carnac. Toreth was a very private person and Carnac had used the secrets she carelessly shared to hurt Toreth and threaten his life with Warrick. She vowed never to make that mistake again yet it seemed she was making it now. Warrick was off limits.

"So this Warrick fellow enjoys cooking with fresh ingredients, does he?"

"How? I never said anything to him, Toreth, I swear!"

"I believe you. He reads minds. Cut it out!"

"I do not 'read minds'," Snape sneered. "I do, however, use Legilimency. It is, to simplify matters," his voice clearly implying that he felt forced to do so because of his audience's limited intelligence, "a sort of, telepathy. You do know of telepathy at least, I hope."

Sara blushed and Toreth ignored the comment. "I don't care what the fuck you want to call it. Just stay out of my head."

Snape nodded, "Warrick?"

"I will ask him where to take you to shop."

"I see that he is very important to you. You are very possessive of your lover."

"I said stay out of my head!"

"One does not need to 'enter the mind' when the face expresses all so clearly. You are mostly an admirable master of self-control, Toreth. I suspect that you could master the arts of Legilimency and Occlumency. Except where Warrick and to a certain extent, Ms Lovelady, Sara," he conceded with a bow of the head, "are concerned. With them you wear your emotions on your sleeve."

Toreth considered denying it but he suspected Snape would know he was lying. He didn't believe for a moment that Snape would stay out of his head since he knew what he would have done if their roles were reversed, and though it irked him to admit it, he felt that he and this strange wizard had a lot in common.

Once Sara left the room, Snape leaned towards Toreth and murmured silkily, "I know that you've been tasked with seducing me to keep me in your time." He held up his hand, "I learned that before you asked me to 'stay out of your head'. I also observed in your colleagues' minds that they believe us to be lovers already. It seems you have something of a reputation, hmm? And yet, either seduction has changed over the centuries or you have not tried.

"At first I thought you found my appearance an insurmountable obstacle. Yet today I caught you openly staring at me, wondering what it would be like to kiss me, what I might look like under my clothes. I dare say, you're probably even a little hard right now," he smirked as Toreth shifted in his seat. Snape exhaled slowly and deliberately along Toreth's exposed neck, "I propose a compromise. I am not, shall we say, averse, to exploring a physical relationship with you and evidently, in spite of this Warrick, you are not averse to the possibility either.

"We go shopping and touring this evening and, if we are successful, perhaps we can return to my flat and compare the changes and constancies in sex over the millennia?"

Toreth was unbelievably hard. Snape's voice was every bit as seductive as he knew it could be and the man's frank honesty and sense of danger were both thrilling and refreshing.

"Let's go. Now."

Both men lay in bed happily exhausted. Neither considered himself a cuddler but both were used to their lovers wishing to cuddle after and each was surprised but unwilling to admit he missed it.

"Well..." Toreth chuckled. It had been one of the better fucks of his life. Snape was as talented with his tongue in bed as in verbal sparring.

"Indeed."

"Pretty impressive for a straight man," he said, rolling to his side and facing the sallow man. He ran his fingers lightly over the surprisingly healthy looking chest and paused to appreciate the strong, wiry arms.

"Straight?"

"Yeah, well, your one true love was Lily Evans, wasn't she?"

Snape stiffened momentarily but then he recalled that apparently his life was now a much researched part of history books so that the memories of Lily he shared with Potter were now public knowledge.

... At least among the 'resisters'. Even when he was famous, he was known only to the infamous.

"Hmm," he murmured non-committally and closed his eyes. "You were hardly my first male lover."

In truth, Snape had never dated any woman after Lily. Somehow, when he was younger, it always felt like cheating but over the years he'd had to admit, if only to himself, that he simply preferred men. In fact he preferred being fucked but was not at all averse to fucking. Indeed some men should only be fucked.

He smirked as he thought of the many occasions on which he'd pummelled Lestrange's tight little ass in revenge after Bella had angered him.

Turning to meet the para's eyes, he was assaulted by the strongly projected emotions of curiosity. Toreth was curious but too proud to ask. Just as well, Snape hated small talk after sex.