Jan. 5th, 2007 @ 11:49 pm FIC: Tempus Reversit, R, Snape/Harry, Snape/Voldemort, 2/3
Please note this is the second part of a three part story. If you haven't read Part One yet, please do so before reading this.

Title: Tempus Reversit (2/3)
Author: [info]mskatonic
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Snape/Harry, Snape/Tom Riddle
Disclaimer: It's all JKR's, apart from the name of Snape's eventual business, which is named after a certain well-known perfume house, and one of the text books which is paraphrased from the Back to the Future films.
Summary: When a magical accident in the heat of battle sends Harry and Snape back to 1943, it's a golden opportunity for a fresh start. But destiny is not so easy to escape, especially when Tom Riddle starts taking an interest...
Warnings: Time travel, AU, epic storytelling to the tune of 27'000 words or thereabouts, dubious consent, rough sex, abusive relationships with psychopathic control freaks
Author's notes: Originally written for [info]regan_v as part of the [info]merry_smutmas fic exchange. Thank you to [info]snakeling for the beta job and [info]_silverfox for giving it a quick once-over.

They met after lessons in the library. Thanks to Dumbledore, the Restricted Section was theirs, so Snape had already paid it a visit and borrowed some books that might prove of assistance. Some of them were mere decoys selected to make it look as if they were doing perfectly legitimate school work. Others, however, were not.

"Dark Arts for the Undeclared?" Harry read, looking at some of the titles Snape had selected. "The Key of Ahriman? Flux Incapacitors, or Paradox Avoidance in Time Travel? Where do you find this stuff? I've never even heard of any of these!"

"That, Potter, does not surprise me," Snape replied, flipping open a book with no title other than an infinity symbol on the front. "But when you are familiar with the concealment charms on the shelves intended for staff only, many things become possible." He offered a wry grin.

"That's cheating. Does Dumbledore know you end up teaching here? Or did you forget to tell him?" Harry felt he should be disapproving of this, but something in him was too impressed to care.

"I told him I was an academic. I made no mention of where I worked, although I think he suspects. Apparently not enough to secure the building though. No one's adjusted those charms in fifty years or more. Terribly sloppy work. If I were Headmaster, or even Head Librarian... but I am not, and so embarrassing security loopholes are left open." He indicated the books. "None of these are of the variety that will directly harm the reader. Take one and start looking."

Harry sat down and picked up one of the general Dark Arts primers. It might be useful to use against Voldemort if nothing else. "What are we looking for?"

"Anything on Tempus Reversit. Anything on Horcruxes. Anything on what happens to a Horcrux if you cast strong Dark magic at it. Anything on time travel, in particular reversing accidental time travel mishaps. Anything that might have any relevance to the current situation. For the love of god, Potter, you know as much about how we ended up here as I do. Pick a book and start looking."

Grumbling, Harry did as he was told. However, they'd not been there long when they were disturbed. Both Harry and Snape looked up with a start as someone else approached their table, Snape with his wand in his hand before he'd even registered who it was. He didn't look any less wary when he had though. On seeing who it was, he went very still, apparently horrified.

Harry, however, had relaxed completely. "Hi, Eileen," he said, grinning as much at Snape's discomfiture as he was at seeing her again. "Glad you could make it. Take a seat."

Eileen smiled gratefully, sitting down in between the two men. "Hello, Harry. How's the search going?"

"Badly. We've found absolutely bugger all."

"Potter!" Snape hissed, scandalised. "Kindly watch your tongue in front of my- er, in front of my housemates!"

"What's wrong, Snape?" said Harry, suppressing a laugh at Snape's unexpected prissiness. "I didn't know you were the chivalrous type."

"He must be the only man in Slytherin who is," said Eileen bitterly. "Severus Snape, I take it."

"He is," Harry confirmed. "Snape, this is Eileen Prince. I walked into her yesterday and we ended up talking. She seems intelligent and trustworthy, so I told her how we got here and she offered to help us search."

"You did what??" Snape spluttered. Jumping to his feet, he grabbed Harry by the arm.

"Excuse me, M... Miss Prince. I need to have a private word with my, er, colleague." Hauling Harry off behind a nearby shelf, he turned on him, furious.

"What in the name of all that's holy do you think you're doing??" he snarled. "Apart from letting other people in on our secret, which is foolhardy enough in itself, do you have any idea who she is??"

Harry decided to play it innocent. "She can't be any more dangerous than Tom Riddle, and he already knows. Besides, she knows what she's doing and she's a nice person. I like her. Why, what do you know about her? Is she a Death Eater or something?"

Snape shook his head, his face nearly grey, and Harry wondered if perhaps he hadn't gone too far. "The Dark Lord had her killed years ago for marrying a Muggle. I didn't even know until afterwards. It... it was why I changed sides." He let Harry go, clearly affected. Harry mentally smacked himself for being so bloody stupid. Why on earth hadn't he bothered to research Eileen's history after Hermione had first told him about her? He hadn't even bothered to find out if she was alive or dead. And now it turned out Voldemort had killed her, and Snape hadn't been able to do anything about it. No wonder he'd taken this so badly.

"Snape, I'm sorry..." he began. Snape shot him a glare and only just managed to cover the hurt inside.

"Shut up," Snape hissed. "Just shut up. You don't know a thing, you don't have a clue! You just..." He struggled to pull himself together. "You just never think, do you? About your actions, or the consequences of those actions or the feelings of anyone who isn't one of your housemates..."

"That's not..." Harry started to protest until Snape interrupted.

"Not what? Fair? You never for one moment stopped to think how I might feel seeing and working with a younger version of my mother. Is that fair?"

Harry didn't answer. He scowled faintly, but part of him was thinking Snape might have a point, and an even larger part of him was thinking of Eileen dying and simply reeling, knowing that a friend of his was already doomed, had died years in the future before he was even born and that returning home would mean he'd never see her again.

"No, it's not," he whispered, not wanting to think about Eileen meeting her death on the end of a Death Eater's wand but not being able to stop himself.

Snape blinked. He wasn't used to Harry actually admitting he was wrong. The beginnings of a smirk appeared on his face.

"Well, you have some empathy at least. I had wondered." He straightened up and prepared to return to the table. "Come on. I have to admit there are worse people you could have taken into your confidence. She is very intelligent and she does know what she's doing." He glanced over his shoulder, amused. "After all, she taught me everything I know." Sweeping away in a characteristic Snape mannerism, he rejoined Eileen, bowing formally before returning to his seat.

"Please accept my apologies, Miss Prince. I needed to have a private word with Mr. Potter. He tells me he has told you how we arrived?"

Eileen nodded, her brow furrowing. "Are you always this formal, Mr. Snape?"

"I do try. My mother was very assiduous in teaching me the importance of good manners." He allowed himself a sly grin.

"I wish more mothers did the same," said Eileen enviously. "It's a bloody rarity in Slytherin, let me tell you." She extended a hand to Snape. "But seeing as we're going to be working together, you can call me Eileen."

Snape took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Eileen then," he said, looking only a little uneasy at being on first name terms with his mother. "In that case, you may as well call me Severus."

"Severus," said Eileen, testing the syllables and deciding they sounded good. "I like it. My grandfather's called Severus."

"I know," said Snape softly. "I'm familiar with the Prince family," he added by way of explanation, after seeing the suspicion in Eileen's eyes.

"Really?" said Eileen, the tone of her voice indicating that this subject was not dead by any means. "We shall have to compare notes one of these days. We might even be related, who knows." She smiled knowingly at Snape, who could only laugh nervously. Eileen reached for Flux Incapacitors as if she'd said nothing untoward. "Shall we start studying then? We don't have all night."

And so the three of them hit the books. Harry's books of choice, while fascinating (when they weren't disturbing him) didn't really have much on time magic, so he spent much of the time observing Snape and Eileen instead. It was a little like watching Ron and Hermione, if Ron had had a near encyclopaedic knowledge of the Dark Arts. Snape had got over his initial discomfort and was now happily discussing the finer points of obscure magical theory with Eileen, arguments being flung back and forth at each other as one would come across something that might be relevant. It was actually rather entertaining to watch. Yes, Snape still came across as his usual sarcastic self, but it was a little less sharp with Eileen, and she was more than capable of giving as good as she got. It was more like a game than the warfare of the classroom he was used to, and this was a side of Snape he'd not seen before. Relaxed, as near to cheerful as Snape ever got, clearly enjoying himself. It was very disconcerting indeed to see Snape happy and no one else suffering. In fact, looking at Snape as he was now was very disconcerting and not just because of seeing him in a good mood. Snape was young again, and yet he did not at all talk, move or act like the boy from the Pensieve. He was moving and acting like Harry's teacher. It was unnerving. More than unnerving. Part of Harry found it rather attractive. It was as if young and older Snape had been flung together, mixed up and reformed into a new person, with traits of both but more than either had been. Snape had an energy he'd never had before, and the bitterness that had once been his hallmark seemed lighter somehow. He seemed confident, powerful, at ease, and yet the youthful features made him seem not imposing and threatening but - Harry shuddered to think it but there was no other word - cute. It was rather like watching a child playing dress-up with its parents' clothes, except this particular child's power was real. All in all, it was doing things to Harry. His cock was reacting very strongly, and Harry's mind was producing lurid fantasies involving pinning Snape to the desk and watching that mocking mouth contort as Harry fucked him again and again.

No. Oh no. Not Snape. Anyone but Snape. With the sole exception of Tom Riddle, there was no one he wanted to fancy less than Snape. And yet his cock was straining in his pants and his hormones were racing and god help him, not only was Snape looking attractive, Harry was actually starting to like him. He'd caught himself sniggering at some of his remarks. He'd felt sorry for Snape on finding out how Eileen had died, even though it had been caused more by grief for Eileen than anything else. He remembered Snape baring his arm on two occasions, one with the Dark Mark, one without, both times declaring that he was on Dumbledore's side.

I think I even believe you.

Harry closed his eyes, wishing the explosion had killed them both outright rather than sending them here. This could only lead to trouble.

Fortunately, he was distracted from his thoughts by Eileen's cry of triumph.

"I think I found something!"

Snape was peering over her shoulder in an instant.

"What is it?"

Eileen pointed at the page in front of her. "Here. It's a few paragraphs on Tempus Reversit. Normally when cast on a person or object, it has a de-ageing effect – it reverses time for the target and they become young again. But they also lose their memory and any skills they've acquired, they literally become as they were however many years they've gone back – the number will depend on the strength of the wizard casting the spell. That's why it's not normally used as a means of restoring youth." Eileen looked rather pleased with herself for discovering this.

"That's why Hermione cast it," said Harry. "She wanted a means of making older and stronger enemies weaker so we could fight them." He gave Snape an apologetic nod before he could stop himself. Snape didn't seem to notice, being too busy frowning at the page.

"That would have reversed time for the Horcrux then," he said. "Maybe it would have released the Dark Lord's soul, or it would have ceased to be a Horcrux. Why did it explode and take us back in time?"

Eileen pointed to the next page. "Here. The de-ageing is what it normally does. But when cast at a potent magical object, such as the Horcrux of a powerful wizard - "

"Don't forget the original object was an extremely potent artefact in its own right – it was the crystal Harp of Ravenclaw," Snape added. Eileen's jaw nearly hit the table.

"What??" she gasped. "Oh Merlin, someone made a Horcrux out of that? My god, yes, that would do it, especially as it's crystal – that would only have enhanced the effects." She pointed at the text again. "It says here that if the target object is enchanted and powerful, it can warp time itself in the vicinity. And if you happen to be touching it or near it at the time, it can pull you in and send you back to the time and place when it was created." She closed the book, enlightenment dawning as all the pieces fitted together. "Like it must have done with you."

"But the Harp was made by Ravenclaw, that must have been a thousand years ago," Harry whispered. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Use your head, Potter," he said wearily. "The Harp was a thousand years old, but the Horcrux wasn't. The Dark Lord created his first Horcrux this year."

"But not with the Harp, surely?" said Harry. "The diary was his first Horcrux, then the ring, wasn't it? When did he do the Harp? The fifties? Sixties? Later?"

"1979 – I helped steal it," said Snape. "But that hardly matters – the point is, I think it's taken us back not to when that Horcrux was made, but back to when his soul was still intact. As it is right now." He said this last distantly, staring off into space. It was Eileen who broke the silence as the book fell from her hands and hit the table with a thump.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked. She looked very pale.

"No... I – of course not!" she snapped. "Someone is going to create a Horcrux here, at Hogwarts, this year, someone is going to have to die because of this, and you two are just sitting here casually talking about Dark Lords and Horcruxes as if it's completely normal!"

Harry looked rather guiltily at Snape, who was clearly thinking the same thing he had been – that for them, it was completely normal. But Eileen was only fifteen, and she was scared.

"Eileen, I'm sorry," said Harry softly, going to her and giving her a hug. "We didn't mean to upset you."

"Too late for that," Eileen whispered. "There's going to be a new Dark Lord rising, right here in Britain, and it starts here and now, and he'll make Horcruxes and people will die, and there's nothing any of us can do about it!" She stared up at Harry, panic-stricken. "How, how, can you two be so calm? And how on earth do you expect me to deal with this?"

Harry held her, clueless as to what to do. "Snape, there's got to be something we can do. We know who it is, can't we stop him somehow?"

Snape was standing behind his chair, knuckles white as he gripped the back of it.

"You know as well as I do that we can't do that," he said through gritted teeth. "Who knows what sort of chaos we might cause? We might make things a good deal worse. Do you want the fabric of space and time ripped apart? Because I don't!" Hesitantly, he approached Eileen, squeezing her shoulder as if afraid to do anything more. "Eileen, if it bothers you... if it upsets you this much... I could Obliviate you, if you wish."

"Snape!" Harry cried, at the same time as Eileen vehemently said "No!" Snape immediately backed off.

"No," Eileen repeated, calming down a little as she reached out to Snape to reassure him. He was looking more than a little hurt and afraid, but he calmed down when he saw that Eileen, while still a little shaken, did not appear angry at either of them.

"No, I'll keep the memories," she said firmly. "I need to be ready when the time comes. But there is something you can do, both of you."

"What is it?" Harry asked. "We'll do anything." He looked at Snape, who nodded in agreement. Eileen took both their hands in hers.

"Fight him," she said simply. "Find his Horcruxes, destroy them, do what you have to do. But promise me you will stand against him. Promise me!"

Harry smiled, relieved. "I promise. It's what I do anyway." He glanced at Snape, who had gone very still. Then, to Harry's surprise, he nodded and put his arm around her.

"Very well. I promise. When Potter and I return to our own time, we'll destroy his remaining Horcruxes and put an end to it. I promise you that, Eileen." His voice shook a little as he said her name, but his eyes remained steady, and once more Harry found himself reassessing his view of Snape. Good god, Snape's actually got a heart and principles. Who'd have thought it? Not him, that was certain. Thoughts of pushing Snape up against the wall and ravaging him right there began to make their presence felt again, and Harry's cock twitched into life, practically begging for his attention. Making his excuses, Harry decided it was time they called it a night.



Snape and Eileen made their way back to Slytherin in silence for the most part. But Eileen was looking at him rather strangely and there was a limit to how much of that Snape could take.

"What?" he demanded as soon as they entered the relative safety of the dungeons. "You're staring at me. It's unnerving me. Stop it."

"Did you mean it back in the library?" she said, watching him closely in the way that she always had when she suspected him of having misbehaved and wanted the truth out of him. It had always worked then too.

"Mean what?" Quibbling over the exact meaning of what she was asking was Snape's usual response to his mother's interrogations. It had never worked then either.

"You know perfectly well what I mean," she said sternly. "The promise you made. That you'd fight the Dark Lord when you got home."

"Oh. That. Of course I meant it," said Snape irritably. The constant questioning of his loyalties was beginning to get to him. "It's what I was doing anyway. What do you think I was doing there? I was seeking out the one Horcrux I was fairly certain I knew the location of and trying to destroy it. Then Potter and his friends turned up and thought I was there to protect it. Hence the duel, and Granger casting the infernal hex that got us into this trouble."

"So you were working for him then," said Eileen softly. "Harry recognised you as one of the Dark Lord's followers, didn't he?"

Snape bowed his head. He never had been any good at lying to his mother. "At one time, yes, I was a willing Death Eater. Yes, I helped steal the Harp so he could make it into a Horcrux. I knew what he wanted it for – I was his willing servant at that time. I was his pet Sensitarius – he took me quite deeply into his confidence. At the time I believe I'd deluded myself into thinking he loved me."

Eileen made a noise of sympathy, reaching out to touch his arm. Snape closed his eyes, fighting the memories.

"And then?" said Eileen softly. "What did he do to make you turn?"

"He said as I'd been so useful in acquiring it for him he wanted to make it special for me, wanted to make it into a Horcrux in memory of me." Snape did look at her then, staring straight into eyes as dark as his own, eyes that couldn't help but bring the memories flooding back. "He killed my parents and used my mother's death to make it. He didn't even tell me until afterwards, he showed me the memory in a Pensieve. And that's why I turned. Are you happy now? Did that answer your question?" Without waiting for an answer, he strode off, not wanting the living reminder in front of him for a single second longer. He heard her calling his name, calling for him to wait, to come back and talk to her, but he ignored her. He was feeling emotional enough as it was, if he stayed he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid telling her everything, who he really was, who she really was, how sorry he was, how he'd missed her, everything he'd wanted to tell her before but couldn't.

But she wasn't his mother. She was just a fifteen year old girl, and she didn't need to deal with all that. So Snape ran into the dungeons, easily outdistancing her, darting down a passageway he didn't think anyone else knew about, eager to find a sanctuary where he could hide and recover.

He didn't find it.

Before he even knew someone else was there, they had stepped out of the darkness and grabbed hold of him, one hand over his mouth and the other going for his wand hand. Magic that wasn't his seared out of the darkness, wrapping itself around him, disarming him far more thoroughly than his assailant's hands had. Snape felt his knees buckle under the onslaught of it, and he couldn't stop himself moaning. Chuckling, Tom Riddle adjusted his grip, turning it into a dreadful parody of a lover's embrace.

"Well, well, well," he murmured, stroking Snape's cheek. "My little Sensitarius has finally decided to come home to his master."

You're not my master, Snape wanted to scream at him. But his limbs had turned to jelly, and his throat seemed to have dried up, because all he could do was melt into Tom's arms as if he belonged there. Maybe he did, who knew. After all, didn't it feel so natural? Didn't it feel like it had done when he was seventeen for the first time, with the Dark Lord promising power, wealth, status, revenge, protection, if he only gave up everything and surrendered his will to him? Part of him screamed that it had been a lie then, it was a lie now, don't give in. But the rest of him had missed this, yearned for this, been torn apart leaving and deceiving.

"Where have you been, my pet?" Tom whispered, pulling Snape close, letting him feel his erection against his thigh. "Don't you know I've been waiting for you? Hmm?"

"I was in the library," Snape gasped. "Studying... ahh!" Tom had grabbed him by the hair, spun him around and shoved him up against a wall.

"You were not studying," said Tom softly. "You were with the Potter brat and young Prince. You were researching, weren't you? You're looking for a way back, aren't you?" He leaned in closer, lips inches from Snape's ear. "You want to leave me, don't you. You're trying to get away from me."

Answering yes was a good way to die, Snape was sure of that. Besides, the magic was too overwhelming to resist.

"N-no," he whispered, strengthening his Occlumency. Go along with it, do what he wants, stay alive, do what you must to get through this. It was how he'd survived in the past, after all.

"Liar," Tom snarled. He grabbed Snape again and spun him around so he was facing the wall. "I think you need to know your place, Severus. I think you need to know who you really belong to. You need to know who your master is." He flicked his wand, murmured a spell, and Snape found himself naked from the waist down, with his arse feeling damp.

No. No, he wouldn't... Of course he would. This was Tom Riddle, and had his older incarnation not done or threatened to do similar things if he suspected his followers were straying?

"You're mine, Severus," Tom hissed as he fiddled with his trousers, before pulling Snape's buttocks apart. "Do you hear me? Mine!"

Snape couldn't stop himself from crying out as Tom entered him in one stroke, forcing himself in, thrusting in and out in a maddeningly slow rhythm.

"No," Snape whispered. "No, oh no, oh... don't stop..." he moaned. He could barely see, barely breathe because of the intoxicating magic enveloping him. His cock was hard and weeping as Tom thrust into him, and oh god, hadn't he missed this? Hadn't he missed the feeling of being the most important thing in the world to someone? Hadn't he missed the feeling of being wanted? Hadn't he missed having Tom's cock in his arse? Despite everything, no one had ever made him feel like this before or since. He hated Tom Riddle with all his heart and soul. He hated himself for backing into him, opening his arse up and letting him fuck him raw. I hate you, Tom. Don't stop.

"You belong to me, understand?" Tom snarled. "You're mine, and I'm going to use you however I want, whenever I want. If I want to fuck your arse, I'm going to. If I want your mouth on my cock, you're going to put it there. If I want to make you come, you're going to come. If I want you, you're going to be at my side, bending over, letting me give it to you. You're going to take it and you're going to love it. Aren't you, my – little – Sensi – tari – us?" He punctuated his words with thrusts into Snape, who wriggled at the thought of it, feeling Tom's cock and his magic penetrating him at the same time on different levels.

"Yes," he moaned, throwing his head back and clenching his buttocks around Tom's cock. "Yes, oh yes, please, yes, I'm yours, all yours, oh god..."

"Yesss..." Tom hissed. "Mine, all mine, going to make you mine, going to claim you!" He thrust harder and harder into Snape, speeding up, and Snape could tell Tom couldn't be far off coming.

"Come for me, my pet," Tom whispered in Snape's ear. "Come for me, Severus. Give it up to me. Tell me whose you are!"

"I'm yours!" Snape cried. "Yours... all yours... master..." His cock was so achingly hard, he was so close to coming, he'd say anything, absolutely anything, as long as Tom didn't stop. So lost was he to everything that he barely noticed Tom grabbing his left arm and rolling the sleeve down.

"Going to make sure you remember that, pet," Tom breathed, pinning Snape's left wrist to the wall as he produced his wand and held the tip to his forearm. Suddenly Snape realised what he was going to do.

Nononono, not again, not my second chance, I don't want to be your slave again, I won't! But his body was too busy thrusting against Tom's cock, and his magic was too busy lying back and letting Riddle's power play it. Even as his mind screamed in protest, his body only trembled in anticipation. When Tom's magic flared and he whispered "Morsmordre!" and pain seared through him, all Snape could do was fall back into Tom's arms and come, screaming as he ejaculated, riding high in ecstasy. Tom clung on to him as he reached his own orgasm, laughing as he did so. Finally he was finished. Letting Snape go, he withdrew, rearranging his clothes as he watched Snape slide to the floor, staring at the brand new Dark Mark on his forearm.

"A little reminder, my pet," said Tom softly, dropping to his knees and pulling Snape into his arms. Sometimes, afterwards, he could almost be tender. Snape had forgotten that. Once though, he would have leaned back into the monster's embrace and believed, or at least tried to believe, he was loved. Not any more. All he felt now was horror and fury, at the short-lived new leaf that was already blotted, and at himself for giving in again and letting pleasure overwhelm his rational self. Fortunately, Occlumency kept these heretical thoughts hidden, and Tom kept stroking Snape's hair, smiling.

"You need to remember whose you are, beloved," said Tom. "So I've marked you, so you don't forget. So that whenever you see that mark, you'll remember you're mine. It also has more practical uses – I can use it to summon you when I have need of you."

Snape did not let on that he knew that particular function all too well. Tom summoned Snape's clothes and passed them to him.

"Get dressed, pet. It's time to go back." Tom got up and stood there, waiting while Snape dressed himself, before making him walk in front all the way back to the common room. Snape said nothing. He felt numb inside, unwilling to let himself feel anything lest fury and grief at allowing himself to be enslaved again overwhelm him. He did not know what he was going to do, but one thing he did know. He would be revenged on Riddle for this.



However, it wasn't revenge on Riddle that he had to worry about. It was dealing with Eileen and Harry.

Eileen had been waiting in the common room, and had immediately made a move in his direction when she'd seen him come in – until she'd seen Tom Riddle enter behind him. She'd swiftly backed off and returned to the corner table she'd been sitting in, but her eyes hardly left Snape all night. He'd not been able to go to her – Tom had made him stay by his side all evening – but even if he had, he didn't think he'd have been able to. He didn't think he could handle the shame of admitting what had happened.

He might even have got away with it if Eileen Prince and Harry Potter hadn't been the most irritating, stubborn, persistent individuals he'd ever had the misfortune to come across.

He spent most of the next day at Tom's side, blanking both Eileen and Harry when they'd tried to talk to him. Eileen had backed off at the merest glance from Tom, but Potter had been stubbornly insistent.

"Snape," Harry had called, elbowing his way through the crowd of students to get to where Snape was following Tom. "Snape, I need to talk to you!"

"Potter, go away," said Snape, staring at the ground, pointedly not looking at him. "I don't have time for this." He shot a glance at Tom, who had turned to see what was going on and had fixed Harry with a furious glare. For god's sake, Potter, have you no sense of self-preservation? Run, you fool!

Of course, Harry stayed right where he was. Snape should have known that the idiot Gryffindor would stay put even in the face of an angry Tom Riddle, when anyone sane would have been running.

What, like you did? his inner voice mocked. Snape tried his best to ignore it even as the sudden presence of Tom's seething magical aura sent shivers down his spine.

"Tough," said Harry. "You've been avoiding us and following Tom Riddle around all day, and I want to know why!"

"Potter," Snape whispered, hating himself in that instant more than he ever had before. "Leave, leave now, you don't know..." Then Tom was there and Snape could say no more.

"I would have thought the reason for that was obvious," said Tom, malice and hate glittering in his eyes. "Why on earth would he want to be with nobodies like you when he could be with me?" He put an arm around Snape's shoulders in a gesture that would have looked affectionate to anyone who didn't know any better. He gave Harry a smug smile that went no deeper than his lips, and Snape trembled at Tom's touch. He had a feeling that Tom would want to punish him as soon as he got him back to Slytherin, and he knew it would be bad.

"Come, my pet," Tom murmured. "Let's get you away from corrupting influences." He started to lead Snape away. Snape made to go with him, but one small part of him was still in rebellion – the part that wanted revenge. He hated having to do this – hated having to rely on Potter, of all people, for assistance. But then again, Potter did have a knack of surviving encounters with Voldemort that would have killed anyone else. Who else could Snape turn to? Besides, he hated Tom Riddle far more than he could ever have hated Potter. He shot one last glance at Potter and met his eyes, eyes filled with anger, hate... and betrayal? He didn't have time to ponder this, however. All he could do was summon all his Legilimency and fling one desperate thought at him.

Help me.

Harry's eyes widened as he felt the power hit him, as he heard Snape's voice whisper the words in his ear. It wasn't even the words themselves, it was the desperation in them. He had seen Snape do many things, but begging wasn't one of them. Snape was far too proud to ever do such a thing. And yet the wild look in Snape's eyes, the sheer panic in the Legilimency voice seemed to make it look as if he was doing just that, and begging Harry for help no less.

Harry hesitated, remembering all his history with Snape. Snape, who had always hated him, Snape who had always picked on him, Snape who had never failed to be hateful, petty and malicious towards him. Snape who had killed Dumbledore.

Snape who had left Voldemort, turned spy, and gone as far as to show his Mark to the Minister of Magic in a vain attempt to convince the stubborn old fool that the entire British Wizarding World was under attack. Snape who had saved his life time and again, despite hating him. Snape, who despite killing Dumbledore, had not killed him or even hurt him, but told other Death Eaters to leave him alone. Snape who only yesterday had shown him a bare forearm and proudly declared he was not the Dark Lord's creature. Snape who in the library had seemed like the most beautiful thing in the world, all awkward innocence and fierce power combined with a sharp mind and even sharper tongue. Snape who in the space of one day had gone from proud young wizard to this broken, submissive creature, enslaved to a psychopath and reduced to begging for the help of a wizard he hated.

It was the last thought that decided Harry, that and the terror in Snape's eyes. No matter what Snape had done, who he was, Harry couldn't let Tom do that to another human being. He raised his wand to strike.

Unfortunately for Harry, Tom's sense of imminent danger was working just fine, and he spun round, flinging a curse back at Harry at exactly the same moment Harry's Stunning Charm left his wand.

Unfortunately for Tom, Harry had forgotten and Tom had never known what had happened last time they'd duelled. Harry's spell hit Tom's head on, and the two locked together just as they had in the graveyard. Harry, despite barely being able to hang on to his wand as the magic surged through it, couldn't help but grin, particularly at the shocked look on Tom's face. Didn't expect that, did you, you bastard?

Snape watched, literally spellbound. He'd heard about the Priori Incantatem effect that resulted when Harry and Voldemort's wands clashed, of course, but he'd never seen it in action before. It was fascinating to behold. He could feel the magic emanating off both of them, and Merlin, it was strong. Tom's magic was brooding and dark, rising off him like steam as Tom tried to control his wand, while Harry's magic was like fire, blazing out of him in righteous fury. It was intoxicating, truly intoxicating. Where Tom had always made him tremble in fear, a slave to his own emotions, Harry's magic was having a different, although no less potent effect. It was making him feel alive, making him feel strong, making him feel like his old self, except better than that. It made him want to run with it, dance with it, feel it lifting him up. Where Tom's magic would have him on his knees, Harry's made him want to fly. He wanted to hate the brat for having this effect on him. He wanted to kiss the boy for showing him the way out. While he'd always felt Harry's magic, he'd never seen it fully unfolded before, just felt it as a potential, a strange and alien force that would drag him out of himself, force him to change just by being around it. He'd always hated and resisted it before. Now, though, he found himself welcoming it. Damn you, Potter. What have you turned me into? He didn't know, but it had to be better than being the Dark Lord's pet. But first, there was the duel to be won. One of them had to force the other's magic back into his wand.

In the end, there was no contest. Harry as an inexperienced fourteen year old had managed to beat a newly-resurrected Voldemort with years of practical Dark Arts behind him. Harry as a more experienced seventeen year old who had won a Priori Incantatem duel before up against a younger Tom Riddle who'd never fought one could hardly lose. With a scream of triumph, Harry forced the magic back into Tom's wand. Tom could only howl in pain as all the spells he'd cast in lessons that day began to start emerging from his wand. Snape froze as they began to hover around Tom, seemingly taunting him. He'd not cast that much magic today, and any minute now the Dark Mark spell from last night would emerge, shaming him in front of half the school. This battle was happening in the Entrance Hall of all places, and a crowd had gathered, staring in shock at the spectacle before them. Worse, Dumbledore had just entered the room and was watching the scene looking absolutely transfixed. That, however, couldn't last. In desperation, Snape sought his mother out. She was standing on the stairs, looking ready to bolt at any moment. He locked eyes with her, and using the Legilimency she'd taught him all those years ago, he sent her a message.

Get us out of here.

Eileen nodded once, and concentrated. He heard her voice whispering in his ear, and from the sudden surprise on Harry's face, could only surmise she had sent the same message to him.

I am about to cause a distraction. When it happens, run. She then flashed an image of where she wanted them to escape to. It was the top of the Astronomy Tower. Snape could only shake his head at the irony. Did some things never change? He sent back his assent and fingered his wand, preparing to run at any minute. Eileen lifted her wand and drew it in a complicated design, casting a non-verbal spell. A cloud appeared in the middle of the room just as a ghostly Dark Mark began to emerge from Tom's wand, rapidly growing and expanding to fill the entire room with a clinging mist that rendered visibility virtually non-existent, except where the magic of Priori Incantatem was still glowing. Screams broke out all over the room as students frantically began making for the exits, crashing into each other and falling in the confusion. Snape, however, had practised too much night fighting with the Death Eaters to be easily fazed, and he knew the Entrance Hall layout well enough to navigate it with his eyes shut. Letting his Sensitarius instincts guide him to Harry, he grabbed him by the arm and whispered "Come on! Eileen's waiting." Harry broke off the magic and followed, stumbling after Snape as he forced a way through the crowds and made for the stairs. The mist was thinner here, and Eileen was able to recognise them as they staggered out of it. She took Harry's other arm and the three of them raced off, not caring where they went, as long as it got them far, far away.

Shaken, Tom staggered away, drained from the effort. Beaten by a Gryffindor, and his Sensitarius deserting him? Such a thing was not to be tolerated. But there was little point in chasing after them, not in this fog, and not with Dumbledore around. Best to retreat and find out just what had happened. He could track Snape through the Dark Mark anyway. Snarling, he headed towards the Slytherin dungeons. He had plans to make.

Part 3 this way
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