Severus Snape opened his eyes. Rain... It was raining, it was wet... He was naked, completely naked, and wet! And getting wetter and wetter. Raindrops, no, it was more like hail, were pelting his bare skin, it was pouring harshly, and it was... warm? He blinked, looked around. Steam was rising from all over, obscuring his vision. The intense, burning scent of perfumes and soaps stung his throat. And his eyes started to burn. Merlin, he must be in a fucking bathroom!

He thought that he need to get out of here immediately, he hurriedly burst out of the shower. His hair was still foamy, and soap had gotten into his eyes, stinging like hell. He needed to figure out where he was, find Dumbledore, and... What was this laugh about? He rubbed his eyes, attempting to look around, but everything was so confusing, so nonsensical, and there were people—PEOPLE all around.

"Oy, Sev, you've got quite a sight!" a voice from the past, a very distant past, said.

He looked up. His vision was dimming, his reasoning was lost. Then he figured out who the boy was.

"Ro-Rosier?"

"What's up with this?"

Oh, God, this one was a girl's voice! And Severus was naked! He tried to compose himself and not vomit on the spot. His mind was slowly returning. He must be during his school years; he was taking a shower, and there was a fucking girl in this boys' bathroom! He stared at the girl regardless of his body's objections. She was Slytherin's biggest slut, she had even kissed Severus once. Like she wants to justify her infamous title, her eyes were not looking at Severus' eyes but instead... Snape, completely red in the face, stepped back into the shower cabin. Laughter and teasing comments were coming from outside. But none of it mattered now; they were all trivial. Once the headache and nausea were gone, he can... But every inch of him was covered in soap, damn it! He turned the water back on and rinsed off, feeling exhausted. When he stepped out naked again, nobody was laughing anymore; they were all looking at him oddly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! You would never do that!" yelled Wilkes, gesturing Severus as a whole.

"Tower," Severus said, as if he were teaching a lesson to one of his students. A young boy initially hesitated, then handed him a towel. Severus dried himself without a word and then asked, "Where's my wand?"

"Oh, you always keep it with you," Rosier said. Everyone was in shock. What on earth was Severus Snape doing?

Snape found his wand, the robe he had prepared to put on after the shower, and his underwear right beside the shower stall. He had never imagined he would find himself in the shower when he went back so many years. It was a bit ironic, to be honest. Then he turned and looked at his friends, whose mouths were wide open, and at Florist, who was the only girl among them. They all seemed sufficiently surprised, and Snape figured that a little more shock wouldn't hurt.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," Rosier said, taking a step closer to Snape. Even without Snape reading his thoughts, his expression showed a mixture of pity and concern. Clearly, he must be thinking that Snape was having some kind of nervous break down. Snape couldn't help but grin.

"What year are we in?" He had cast the spell quite accurately. He had held the object exactly as needed and imagined his fifteen-year-old self. But his body was lying about his age. It was not the lanky body of a young boy. It was the body of a young skinny man, a male body. The body was a lot younger and boyish from the one he left behind, but not drastically different. Rosier's expression of concern became even more pronounced.

"Are you okay, mate?"

"I'm fine," he whispered, but his tone was firm. He could still control his voice, which meant he hadn't lost his abilities along with his years. But there was an emotion inside him that he couldn't control. Was it excitement? Concern? Curiosity? He couldn't tell. All he knew was that he needed to find Dumbledore. However, it would be best to go dressed properly. "Just answer the question."

"Mate, it's the year 1977, and we're in our 7th year, our final year."

Our final year. Rosier's voice sounded distant, as if from afar. The 7th year, the final year in every sense of the word; it was the year when everything ended, the year when he joined the Death Eaters, and it had been years since he last talked Lily. Lily had started dating James Potter this year. It was the year when it was too late for everything. It was the wrong year.

Albus Dumbledore had given him the 'special gift' many years later. The wise man had believed that the younger Snape would use it to turn 21 and save the Potters. When 36-year-old Snape took the device, he had wanted more, and he had desired to return to the beginning of his 5th year at Hogwarts. He had been so impatient that he couldn't wait for Harry Potter to finish his detention to use the device. He had made a mistake. While erasing everything, he had looked at Harry Potter and thought about the year 1977 instead of 1975. The child who had James Potter's face but Lily's eyes had reminded him of the year they started dating, their 7th year. And he had cast the spell wrong. He had imagined the wrong time and had come to the wrong time. Harry Potter, the spoilt brat of years later, had turned everything upside down without even trying! His head started to pound even worse, and his vision darkened.

When he opened his eyes, the headache had not subsided yet. His stomach continued to churn as well. The stern face looming over him offered no relief to neither his stomach nor his head. Albus Dumbledore was deep in thought, his fingers stroking his long beard. What could he be thinking? Did he know what Snape had done? Did he know the future, the past? Was he aware that everything had been obliterated by a device of his own invention, beyond any hope of restoration? Or was he merely Dumbledore of his time? What a funny phrase! Dumbledore of his time! As if there were other times!

"You know," he whispered through his parched lips. His voice sounded embarrassingly weak in his own ears. How long had he been unconscious? Why were his lips so dry? Why was he so thirsty? And why was his fucking stomach still churning?

Dumbledore simply stared at him. He hadn't answered because it was not a question. Severus knew that the man knew. Otherwise, why would the headmaster come to a fainted Slytherin student in the bathroom? The old (but still younger) headmaster looked at him with sad eyes. The sorrow in his eyes was so overwhelming that Severus shrank in his bed.

Merlin! He was wearing a shirt now, but apart from that, he was still naked. Of course, he had fainted wearing only a towel. How many people had seen his private parts? The embarrassment of Dumbledore's gaze, combined with his recent foolishness and the weight of being in the wrong time, all came crashing down on him. Ignoring the flaming blush on his face, he adopted an unconcerned and rather pleased expression on his face. When the old man did nothing more than scrutinize him, Severus repeated what he had said earlier.

"You know." Yes, this voice was better, stronger.

"I thought I know, but I was wrong apparently. You surprised me, my boy. Why are we here? Why this year?"

Snape bit his lip and made an almost superhuman effort not to look guilty.

"Why are we here?" Dumbledore repeated. Then a deep sense of hatred welled up within SEverus Snape. The answer was simple.

"Because of Potter!"

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised on his wrinkled forehead.

"Because of Potter?!"

"Harry Potter!"

"Harry?" Albus repeated, his expression resembling Rosier's, something Snape didn't like at all.

"He invaded my room! He confused me!" he growled. "While turning the device, he made me think of the wrong things. He ruined everything! We must go back immediately!"

"Go back?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Yes, where is that device?"

"Severus, all everything happened from this moment on erased, and no one else knows about it, nor will they ever. The device I gave you has stayed in the future; it's gone. Moreover, it can only erase what has been experienced. It cannot bring back the non-existent future. Have you forgotten? In fact, we didn't really live what we experienced! You are seventeen years old, and I am a hundred and thirty-seven."

"But, but," he took a deep breath. "You created that device. You can make it again."

"Why should I do that? Severus, you've used the chance given to you very selfishly. How could I have made such a mistake? How could I have given you that unique object? Poor Severus, who cannot grasp the truth! Where have you brought us? Why were you in such a hurry? Hasn't all those years of education given you an ounce of maturity?"

It would have been better if Dumbledore had yelled. However, he had said all of these things with a voice filled with disappointment and calm. And with unjust anger flushing Severus's face, he looked at the man. While trying to prevent the urge to speak with all his might to keep nausea at bay, he stopped trying to keep his voice under control

"How long have I been asleep? What date is it exactly? Is it the beginning or the end of the year?" He stopped and swallowed the lump in his throat. No, he can't show this much weakness. "They are still alive! We can fix everything. We have time to do everything you've planned! I haven't acted selfishly. We can fix everything!"

"Do you still want to bring an end to Voldemort, then?"

What kind of question was this? Of course, he did. That man, that scum, had killed Lily! But no, Lily wasn't dead. She was alive. They were still alive. Lily and James, the Potters! Lily, Lily Potter, James's lover, the mother of James's child, James's life, James's everything, she was alive, and she didn't belong to Severus.

"I still want to destroy him, Headmaster. I want to help. I want a chance."

"Roll up your sleeve!"

Severus didn't even ask which arm, he pulled up his left sleeve. There it was, the dark mark. It stood there, dark and vivid. Severus used to take great pride in it during these times; he even thought it might impress Lily. When she started dating Potter, she ran into him in a corridor one day. Evans had been surprised at first, clearly not expecting him there. She had tried to walk past, but he had stood in her way eagerly. He wanted to show, to make her see how strong he was, how untouchable. James Potter couldn't do anything to him now. He was one of the "elite," and Lily had to realize her mistake and leave James for the stronger one, for Severus. But Lily just stood there and looked at the mark. Then she spat right in his face. Snape had stumbled back, then grabbed Lily's arm.

"No, this isn't an ordinary tattoo. I didn't get this to show my interest in the dark arts. The Dark Lord himself branded it, there's one on every Death Eater. I am a Death Eater now!"

He had said it with such triumph, almost expecting Lily to admire him. But she neither admired him nor spat on him again; she just stood there, looking at her old friend with a mixture of pity and disdain in her eyes. Even after many years, that look burned Severus from the inside every time he remembered it. How could he have been so foolish? How could he have thought that he could impress Lily with his affiliation with the Death Eaters? How could he not understand? And now he was back in those times, the times when Lily pitied and looked down on him. The mark was on his arm. Yes, Lily Evans was alive. But she was dating Potter. But she was disgusted by Severus. What had changed? Should Severus just stand there and create a nest for Lily and James? Of course, Dumbledore had been concerned about that. Maybe he had thought that Snape would change sides, unable to bear Lily and James being together. He got out of bed.

"It's not going to happen!" Throughout the conversation, this was his strongest voice. It was the voice of self-confidence, the voice of knowing what he was doing.

"I don't understand?"

"I will never be a Death Eater! You told me that we needed time to destroy him, and now we have that time. And if you wish, I can spy again. I can earn the trust of the Dark Lord from the beginning. I can do it. I've been doing it for years."

Dumbledore placed his hand on Severus's shoulder. His eyes glistened with tears.

"You love her very much, don't you?"

Severus looked away. This man must be a sadist. He must enjoy hearing it. Yes, I love Lily very much. I'm dying for her love. Are you happy now, you old love butterfly? Am I asking you about your past loves? By the way, why aren't you married? All you talk about love, love, love and then walk around single. How nice!

"I will help. But first, I need to be informed."

He sat up in bed. As he sat up, the blanket covering his private areas fell to his legs. Severus blushed as he tugged at the blanket and looked back at the headmaster. His stomach was no longer churning. His mind was clear.