A/N: Thank you so much for the follows and favorites. I appreciate it tremendously. Without further ado, enjoy.

Nobody Wants to Pay the Asking Price

Hundreds of miles away, a young man in his early twenties rolled over in his warm bed with a loud groan. His black eyes darted to the window across from him to watch the green-reflected light dance around his room. The moonlight filtered through Black Lake's murky water. He sighed heavily and flopped over, grabbing his wand from the nightstand and revealing a black tattoo on his left forearm.

"Tempus," mumbled the young man, flicking his wand before running a hand through his long black hair. He groaned at the sight of the floating time. It was 12:15 on November 1. For some reason, he just couldn't get to sleep this night. "Wonderful," he sneered before he tossed the covers off and got up out of bed a moment later. He supposed he should at least be somewhat productive then.

Stumbling in a gray nightshirt, the young man headed towards his kitchenette. He needed a glass of water before he brewed the rest of the night. Yawning, he stretched his arms to the ceiling as he walked. He had just reached his counter and grabbed his cup when he heard a noise behind him. His wand slipped into his hand again before he whirled around.

"Who's there?" he shouted, his wand darting about the darkness.

"You in nineteen years," a voice identical to his replied dryly.

"What?" The young man flicked his wand, lighting the torches around the room. He took a step back when he saw a man who looked like him, only older. "Impossible."

"Not when you have a room full of Time Turners and an understanding of time's principles."

He blinked. "But I don't."

"Not yet. You will, though."

The young man's black eyes narrowed suspiciously onto his older version. The older man clearly had a difficult life, which considering the young man's own life he supposed wasn't too hard to believe. He frowned, crossing his arms as he watched the other man.

"It's a good story, but lies are always easier for one to believe than the truth."

His supposedly future self chuckled. "Then, how about I give you definitive proof? Dumbledore will Firecall you in a few moments. He'll ask you to step through, and he'll inform you that Voldemort murdered Lily, James, and Harry Potter tonight before he was defeated. He'll tell you that Lily and James placed their trust in the wrong person much like how you did. He'll then ask you to continue being a spy for him because he doesn't believe that Voldemort is truly gone."

Snape's wand trembled in his hand as he stared at his future self. "L-Lily's dead?"

"Yes."

"No, no, th-that can't be possible." He took a step back, feeling his heart clench painfully.

"Why? Because you begged Voldemort to spare her for you, telling him you didn't give a damn about her husband and child?"

"How do you know that?" Snape thrust his wand more towards the other man. "Answer me!"

"Because I'm you, nineteen years from now."

The words were out before he could stop himself. "Then why didn't you save her?!"

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"Their deaths are fixed. They can't be saved. Voldemort will always go after them."

"Not if I hadn't given him the prophecy!" he argued.

"If you hadn't given him the prophecy, there are two ways it'd have gone. Either he'd have learned the prophecy through Rosier, who was also there that night, or he'd have continued his fight until everyone had submitted to his ways. We both know Lily never would have submitted."

"So then, what? We do nothing?"

"We can't save her."

"We could have tried!"

"No." His older version sighed heavily, clearly weary as if he had battled with the same hopes himself before. "When Dumbledore dismisses you, ask him for the letter Lily wrote you."

"What letter?"

"The letter that Dumbledore will have taken from Godric's Hollow tonight and tucked away into his right hand drawer." His older self looked away with a sigh. "Dumbledore will manipulate you and ask you to remain his. He will keep that letter hidden because when you read it you will be able to move on from Lily, and he can't have that."

"Move on?" Snape repeated softly, staring at his future version. None of this made any sense.

"She won't be so strong in your mind after you read it. So perfect to you. You'll be able to let her go finally."

"Impossible. I love her," he argued fiercely. No. There was no way he'd move on from her now.

"Not in the way you think," his future self replied quietly.

"What do you mean by that?" he sneered, resisting the urge to hex the other man. It was all lies.

Before his future self could reply, however, his Floo roared to life. His eyes darted to it and waited for a moment as the face emerged. Was it possible that—?

"Severus?" Dumbledore's voice floated from the fireplace.

"Yes, Headmaster?" the younger Snape replied dutifully, glancing towards the flames.

"Step through please. We must talk," Dumbledore stated.

His eyes darted to his future self who stood off to the side. So far it was exactly what the man had said would happen. The younger Snape closed his eyes before he headed to the fireplace. He stepped through a moment later and sighed when he reappeared in the Headmaster's office.

"Ah, Severus, thank you." Dumbledore sighed, glancing at him somberly. There was no twinkle in his blue eyes. "I'm afraid I have difficult news for you."

"Headmaster?" His insides clenched. He sat down when Dumbledore motioned to the chair.

"Not long ago, I received word that Lord Voldemort had discovered the Potters' location. Tonight he broke through the various protections placed on it. I'm afraid they're all dead. Even the boy. However, I've been informed that their deaths somehow aided in Voldemort's defeat tonight."

Snape's stomach dropped. No. No. It couldn't be true. No. Lily, his lovely Lily. Gone? But—no. He truly didn't want to believe his future self, but everything the man had said was happening thus far. He howled in heart wrenching pain. The fool with his heart on his sleeve. Not his beautiful Lily.

"I thought . . . you were going . . . to keep her . . . safe . . ."

A hand rested on Snape's shoulder. "She and James put their faith in the wrong person."

It felt like a sudden slap to his face. That was the same thing his future self had said.

"Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

Snape's breathing was shallow. He stared at Dumbledore, unmoving. The events were matching up exactly. He couldn't deny it any longer. He couldn't brush off the man's words as he had. It was true. He had gone back in time.

"I wish . . . I wish I were dead," he cried before he buried his face into his hands.

"And what use would that be to anyone?" said Dumbledore coldly. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

His head jerked up before he stared at Dumbledore, recognizing the ploy of manipulation immediately. Dumbledore truly didn't give a damn about him. About anyone he'd imagine. He just wanted to use Snape for his own gain. Again. He forced himself not to exhibit his underlying rage at the man. Like hell would he be used like a pawn again!

"What do you mean?"

"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain."

"The Dark Lord has gone—"

"The Dark Lord will return, and we will all be in terrible danger when he does."

He bit his cheek to keep from hissing, 'And I should care about that why?' Instead, he drew in a slow breath to calm himself. There was one last thing that needed to be confirmed. One last thing he needed to know. He exhaled and spoke.

"I would like the letter Lily wrote me." He caught Dumbledore's surprise instantly. Perhaps on second thought that was stupid to demand right then. Dumbledore had made no mention of it. "I was waiting for her reply," he smoothly lied. "I know she wrote it." He held his hand out to him. "The letter, please." He watched Dumbledore frown before the older wizard opened his right hand drawer and pulled an envelope out. When it was in his hands, his fingers slowly curled around it a moment later. The proverbial nail was now in the coffin.

"Severus?" Dumbledore quietly said, staring at him curiously.

"What?"

"The Dark Lord will return. Do not let her death be made in vain. Join me again. Help me end this threat once and for all."

Snape blinked and coolly looked at Dumbledore with a neutral expression. Be a spy for him again? It was absurd. His mind, however, returned to his future self. The man had told him that Dumbledore would manipulate him, so technically Snape had the upper hand now with that knowledge. He would still need Dumbledore's protection unfortunately. No doubt, the Ministry would soon round up all the remaining Death Eaters and arrest them. He had no intention of being in Azkaban ever, of course. So that led him back to Dumbledore and the choice before him.

"Very well." Snape inclined his head in acceptance of Dumbledore's request.

"Excellent." Dumbledore then sighed heavily as he glanced down at his desk to gather his thoughts. "You will always have a home here at Hogwarts, Severus. I do hope you know that."

"Of course, Headmaster," he replied quietly. "If you'll excuse me, though?" He swallowed when his mind returned to Dumbledore's earlier words.

"Of course. Of course, my boy. Take all the time you need."

How truly remarkable was the difference in Dumbledore now that Snape had reaffirmed his loyalty to the older wizard. Before the man treated him coldly, as if Snape was nothing. Now, it was all lemon drops and kindness. How pathetic.

He turned away a second later, silently walking to the Floo and returning to his rooms. He closed his Floo behind him and activated his privacy wards. At the sight of his future self sitting on the sofa with a small boy in his arms now, he frowned. Was that his son he would have in the future? They did seem awfully close to one another in his opinion.

"You were right about everything," Snape told his future self.

"Obviously."

"I gave my word to Dumbledore that I would remain loyal. Was I correct to do that?"

"Yes."

Snape nodded slowly. Hearing that gave him a bit of peace for now. "Where do we go from here? I mean, you still haven't revealed why you've returned. It wasn't to save Lily and her family obviously." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he heard it anyway.

"Actually, that's where you're mistaken." His future self smirked inwardly, clearly happy with himself for some reason.

"I am?"

"You are. It's not truly your fault, however. Dumbledore reached the natural conclusion based on the evidence he found tonight in the nursery. It is a lie, though. Lily's son did not die."

Snape's eyes widened before they darted to the small boy in his older self's arms. "Y-you kidnapped the boy and faked his death?"

"Yes."

"I—what—why?"

"Dumbledore would have given this child to Petunia to raise. You remember her, of course?"

"Lily's bitch sister?" He caught his older self's chuckle instantly.

"Indeed. The very one." The man then sighed, adopting his familiar neutral face. "She and her idiot husband would have abused him. Treated him worse than a house elf if we're honest. For the first ten years of his life, the boy would live in the cupboard under the stairs. He'd not be fed or clothed properly. In fact, he'd be forced to wear his fat cousin's castoffs and resort to stealing food just so he'd not starve to death, while his cousin was spoiled rotten."

"Was Dumbledore aware of this?" The twenty-one-year-old couldn't for the life of him think that it'd be possible. This was Lily's son. It sounded unreal to him.

"Yes." His older self pinched his mouth tightly together for a moment before he continued. "The boy's wellbeing was never Dumbledore's concern in my timeline. He would have asked you to protect the child because he has his mother's eyes. And before Albus's would-be death years from now, he would have revealed to you that he knew all along that the boy must die in the end to achieve victory once and for all over Voldemort. He would have betrayed you. He would have told you that you were protecting the child all those years so that the boy would die at precisely the right moment."

Snape could feel his blood boil. That bastard! This was a child for Merlin's sake, not some pawn. He couldn't believe it. A part of the younger Snape wanted to march back to the Headmaster's office and murder the man with his bare hands.

"He would have raised this child as a pig for slaughter, had I not interfered."

Snape nodded slowly. "So, you returned for the boy then." He supposed he could see that.

"And for us." His future self sighed softly. "As I'm certain you can imagine, Dumbledore will have used Lily's power over you every chance he could get in order to achieve his goal. I spied for him for many years. I watched a colleague be murdered in front of me, unable to stop it. I witnessed students be tortured for sport, unable to help them. I saw families in pain as they were ripped apart." He frowned and silently readjusted the small boy on his lap. "Near the end, I found myself confronting my own mortality once and realizing that I wasn't as infallible as I thought. You see, Voldemort ordered Nagini to kill me because he believed I had something of power that he wanted for himself. He was mistaken, of course, but that doesn't matter. I found myself dying alone on the floor of the Shrieking Shack."

Snape's eyebrows knit together as he listened. He didn't bother to interrupt his future self. He knew himself well enough to know that the man would reveal all in time. So he waited.

"It was in that moment I realized that I had wasted my second chance. I had lived my life solely for Lily, not myself. My actions over the years, protecting this child from harm, weren't heroic. They were cowardly and self-centered. I had truly believed that by keeping her child safe and alive that I would then be reunited with her in the afterlife and have my happy ending. That it would be all worth it in the end, my suffering as I paid the asking price. It was a lie, though. A lie that Dumbledore perpetuated for his own gain for decades."

"So, why are you here then?" The younger Snape felt a chill sweep over him when he caught his eyes staring back at him with a determined look.

"To throw a wrench into the proverbial system and end it once and for all."