Jan. 5th, 2007 @ 11:51 pm FIC: Tempus Reversit, R, Snape/Harry, Snape/Voldemort, 3/3
This is the final part of a three part story. If you haven't read Part One and Part Two yet, please do so before reading this.

Title: Tempus Reversit (3/3)
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.

Snape climbed to the top of the Astronomy Tower behind Eileen and Harry, closing and warding the stairs behind him as he did so. Only then did he sink to the ground, feeling physically sick. He'll kill me when he finds me. He will. Or worse.

"He won't," he heard Eileen whisper. He realised he'd spoken out loud, or whispered at least, and mentally cursed himself for the slip. He hadn't wanted Eileen of all people to hear that. But it was too late now. She was kneeling by his side, arms around him.

"He won't kill you; I won't let him!" she whispered savagely. Snape heard the fury in her voice and suppressed tears with difficulty. He'd never seen her this emotional when she was alive, never this protective.

"And what are you going to do if he tries?" he said, his tone sharper than he'd really intended. "You're fifteen."

"Aye, and he's only sixteen and I know the Dark Arts too," she said, hate making her fierce. "I could kill him, Severus. I know I could. I certainly hate him enough."

Snape did embrace her then, remembering her as he'd known her growing up, all cool determination and self-control, and comparing her to this passionate young teenager. Two sides of the same coin, so very very like himself, and he realised just how much he'd missed her.

"He's not worth becoming a murderer for," he told her.

"And Dumbledore was?" Harry's voice cut across the room. Both Snape and Eileen looked up at this. Harry had been sitting on the edge of the parapet, but now he was striding over, wand out and pointing it at Snape, his eyes emotionless. Snape felt his heart sink as he realised that his dream of Potter's magic rescuing him from the Dark Lord and making him live happily ever after was destined to stay just that – a dream. There was little hope of redemption in those eyes, and Harry's magic was unfurling around him like the wings of an avenging angel.

"Harry?" Eileen said, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Him," said Harry, indicating Snape. "He's a Death Eater. One of Voldemort's followers. He killed Dumbledore in our time, after pretending to be a spy for him and gaining his trust. But he was really working for Voldemort all along. It's always been Voldemort for you, hasn't it? Does it for you, does he? Set your Sensitarius pulse trembling, does he? One taste of his magic and you can't resist, can you? Even when you get a second chance, the first minute you get, you're on your knees, crawling back to him, begging for him to take you back, baring your wrist for the Dark Mark and your arse for..." He didn't have the opportunity to finish the sentence. Snape had broken free from Eileen's grasp, staggered to his feet and launched himself at Harry, who had been too busy taunting him to react.

"Shut up!" Snape screamed, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and shoving him back up against one of the pillars holding the roof up. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He struck at Harry's shoulder with each cry, but the blows weren't that strong and as emotion overcame him, they grew even weaker as the tears started to come in earnest. Anger at Tom for claiming him again after he thought he'd escaped, grief for Eileen, both the teenage girl who'd be changed utterly by the time she became a mother and for the mother he'd lost, unshed tears for Dumbledore, regrets over all the wasted years, but most of all a chilling combination of anger and misery caused by Harry bloody Potter, whose magic had always stirred something in him even at eleven but had matured into something that made him feel more alive than he'd felt in years. And Harry hated him, didn't understand him, would never understand, would certainly never want him.

"Shut up... shut up..." Snape whispered, sinking to his knees, broken at last. "You don't understand, Potter, you never did understand, you never will..." He put a hand to his face, hiding the tears that were starting to flow freely.

"Get away from me," Harry hissed, pushing Snape to the floor and pointing his wand at Snape's head. Snape, no longer caring what happened to him, didn't even bother defending himself, merely raising his left arm to shield his face from Harry's gaze. Harry, still furious despite, or perhaps because of, seeing Snape pushed to his limits, ripped the sleeve away to reveal the Dark Mark freshly emblazoned on his skin.

"I knew it," he breathed. "Death Eater!" He raised his wand to strike. "Avada Ke-"

"NO!" Eileen screamed, throwing herself at Harry and grabbing his wand arm. "No, oh god no, Harry, please don't kill him." She stared into his eyes, pleading. "Don't kill my son."

Harry lowered his wand, staring at her. "You... know?" he said, stunned. He shot a glare at Snape. As if his other crimes weren't bad enough, he had to go telling Eileen who he was? But from the look in his eyes, it seemed Snape hadn't realised she'd known either.

"Of course I know," said Eileen bitterly. "I know the Prince family tree off by heart. None of us ever married into a family called Snape. It's not even a pureblood line. And yet look at him, he's so like me. Occlumency, Potions, the Dark Arts, the way he looks. He's even a Sensitarius, and that's not a common gift. And he's called Severus. After my favourite grandfather, who taught me Occlumency, taught me about being Sensitaria and how to live with it and protect myself from those who might take advantage. I've always said to myself that if I ever had a son I'd call him Severus." She broke away from Harry, kneeling by Snape's side. "And here you are," she whispered. "My beautiful, intelligent son." She stroked his cheek, smiling sadly at him.

"I'm nothing of the sort," Snape said harshly. "I'm barely worthy of the name. I got you killed, for god's sake. God, how can you bear to be near me?"

"Because I know what it's like," said Eileen. "Riddle's very charming when he wants to be, isn't he? He's very good at making you feel special. Very good at finding your weaknesses. And that magic is near irresistible. When you've spent most of your life being looked down on because you're ugly, because you're poor, because you don't have the prestigious bloodlines the rest of Slytherin do, oh he's very good at taking advantage of that, isn't he? He's excellent at making you feel that that doesn't matter. Until he's got what he wants, of course." Eileen smoothed Snape's hair back. "He's your Dark Lord, isn't he? Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort. I've heard Avery, Lestrange and Malfoy call him that. I recognised the name when Harry first told me it. It was a shock, I admit. Even more of a shock to find out that he used my death to make the Horcrux that sent you here."

"He... what?" Harry cried, incredulously staring at Snape. "You knew that and you still went back to him?"

"Shut up, Potter, you don't know what you're talking about," Snape snapped viciously at him. Eileen hushed him.

"Severus, don't. It's not helping," she said. Snape had the decency to look slightly abashed. Eileen gently lifted his face up so he was looking right at her. The tenderness in her eyes nearly undid him right there. Oh mother, don't. I've failed you, let you down so badly. How you can know all this and still bear to look at me, never mind call me son...

"Tell us both why you joined the Death Eaters," Eileen said.

"Mother," Snape whispered.

"Tell us, Severus," said Eileen firmly. There was no arguing with that voice, as Snape knew all too well.

"The magic," Snape sighed. "It was so strong. I could barely resist it. He promised me everything. He promised me power, promised me status, promised me revenge. He called me his pet, his beloved. I thought he cared for me. I was so used to being looked down on by everyone, I jumped at the chance. And then he killed my parents to make a Horcrux." Eileen shivered as he said this. Snape continued, determined to finish. "I knew better after that. I knew he was insane then. My mother taught me everything I knew, how he thought I could stay loyal after he killed her..." He shook his head. "When Dumbledore's brother caught me eavesdropping on a private conversation Albus was having, I seized the opportunity and offered my services to his side. Dumbledore's magic was strong enough to fight the hold the Dark Lord had on me. I've been loyal to him ever since. I still am, Potter. Believe me or not, as you will."

"And you killed him," said Harry, still refusing to concede an inch.

"I had no choice," said Snape wearily. "I'd made a vow to Narcissa to protect Draco and carry out his quest if he failed. I had to keep it or die myself. Much good it did me – the foolish brat got himself killed by Aurors days before we got sent back in time. That was why I went after the Ravenclaw Harp when I did. I had to do something to atone, somehow. If I got rid of that Horcrux, it would go some way to making up for it all. So I hoped, anyway."

"And then Tempus Reversit got rid of your Mark," said Harry scornfully. "But two days later, and you've got another one to replace it."

Snape didn't say a word. He just closed his eyes and rested his head on Eileen's shoulder. Eileen held him tightly.

"But did you really want to, Severus?" she asked. "Did you go back to him, did you take his Mark entirely of your own free will? Or was it the magic overwhelming you?"

Snape didn't answer. He just tightened his grip on Eileen.

"He did it to you too, didn't he?" she whispered. "Swept you off your feet, made it impossible for you to say no, took what he wanted without caring what you thought and made you enjoy it anyway?"

"Yes," Snape whispered, not looking up. He could feel the tears welling up, but was determined not to give Harry the satisfaction of seeing them.

"I know," Eileen whispered. "I know. He did it to me too. Oh my boy, my poor boy." She held him, but all the while her eyes rested on Harry, who was still aiming his wand at Snape. He met Eileen's gaze and saw the defiance in her eyes. She would not be backing down over this, he could see that. He could also see his former Potions Master's sobbing form in her arms, and something in him cracked. He remembered the man-turned-boy from the day before, defiantly proclaiming his freedom, and compared him to the wreck he saw before him now, and he felt his hatred of Tom Riddle intensify. Snape's an utter bastard, but not even he deserves what Tom's done to him. Not to mention the fact that there was a worryingly large part of him that had liked seeing Snape free and happy and wanted that Snape back quite badly. He knew in that moment that he simply couldn't bring himself to feel the hatred needed to fuel the Killing Curse.

Slowly, he lowered his wand.

"I have just one question," Harry said softly. "Snape – Severus. When you killed Dumbledore – how did you gather the hate you needed to cast it?"

Snape finally lifted his head, eyes meeting Harry's. His face was like a mask, but not even Occlumency could disguise the tear stains that were still there.

"I believe I hated the stubborn old bastard for giving me a choice and a chance," he replied. "For giving me something to live up to. For making me be better than I had been. And for not noticing that I couldn't be the wizard he wanted me to be. But most of all, I hated myself. Is that the answer you wanted, Potter?" Broken as he was, there was always the energy to sneer at Harry. For some reason, Harry found this comforting.

"It'll do," Harry heard himself say. He was as surprised as anyone to realise he actually believed it... but believe it he did. He's a victim too. He put his wand back in his pocket. "So what now? The whole school's going to want to know what that was about. And you'd better believe Dumbledore's going to be asking questions. It was his phoenix that donated my and Riddle's wand cores. And I don't think it'll be safe for you to go back to Slytherin after this. Riddle's going to be out for blood." Quite probably literally, as Snape and Harry were both well aware.

"Then maybe I should leave Hogwarts and go elsewhere," Snape began to say, before stopping. He'd gone very still.

"Snape?" Harry asked, feeling his throat go dry. "What's the matter?"

"The wards I cast on the stairs," Snape said, reaching for his wand. "They've broken. Someone's coming – agghhh!" He clutched at his Dark Mark, reeling in agony, and Harry needed no further warning to know just who was coming up the stairs.

"Severus?" Eileen gasped. "Severus, are you all right?" Harry grabbed her and pulled her away, pushing her towards the edge of the tower.

"Stay out of the way, don't make a sound and whatever you do, don't use any magic, it'll break the spell." Feeling a strange sense of deja vu, he cast a swift Disillusionment Charm on her before she could object. He and Snape were used to dealing with an angry Voldemort. She wasn't. Gripping his wand, he waited for Tom to enter.

As soon as the other boy's head emerged, Harry flung a Stunning Charm at him. To his dismay, Tom deflected it with ease, before hitting back with a Disarming Charm that had both his and Snape's wands flying into the far corner. Tom Summoned them, smiling coldly at Harry as he pocketed them.

"Not as useful as my own wand," Tom purred, toying with the wand he carried, which Harry realised too late was not the one he'd been carrying earlier. "But it's handy enough. Remind me to give it back to Abraxas later." He raised an eyebrow at Harry's shocked look. "Come now, do you think Slytherin House is composed of fools? Once I'd described what had happened and mentioned that it forced the spells I'd cast out of my wand, it didn't take long for someone to think of the Priori Incantatem spell, and then Medea Avery remembered that if two wands had the same core, they had that effect when used against each other. It was a simple enough matter to trade wands with my housemates until I discovered one that worked with my magic." He stepped closer, reminding Harry of Crookshanks closing in on Scabbers. "So you're Harry Potter. I don't believe we've really had the chance to talk before."

Harry snorted, glaring furiously at Tom. The other boy folded his arms, amused.

"Or maybe we have. Who knows where our paths might lead in the future, after all? Oh yes, I know about that. I eavesdropped when you first arrived, and my little pet here," he indicated Snape, who was still lying on the floor, writhing in pain, "confirmed you came from 1996 and everyone knows who I am." He reached out with the tip of his wand and brushed Harry's hair aside to reveal the scar. Harry recoiled at the touch.

"Interesting," Tom murmured. "A curse scar, is it not? How did you get it? What curse? And who cast it and why? Forgive me, I'm curious about these things."

Harry gazed at Tom, loathing him more than he'd thought possible. Maybe there was a way out of here. He didn't hold out much hope of Snape helping him, and he certainly didn't want Eileen getting involved. And yet without his wand there wasn't much he could do. However, he could certainly hit Tom where it hurt.

"You gave it to me," said Harry. "You tried to kill me when I was just a baby, but the Killing Curse just bounced off and hit you instead."

Tom froze. "You lie," he snarled. "No one can survive that curse! No one!"

Harry laughed. "I did. And I survived all the other times you tried to kill me as well. You keep trying to do that, you know. You're the most hated and feared Dark wizard of our time, the all-powerful and invulnerable Dark Lord, but every time you try and kill me, it always goes wrong. All that power and you can't even kill one teenage boy!"

Tom had gone white as he heard this, his nostrils flaring. As Harry laughed in his face, Tom's control snapped.

"Can't kill you?" he whispered. "Let's see!" Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small black book that Harry recognised with a shock as the diary that he'd destroyed in his second year, Tom Riddle's first Horcrux. Except here it was still intact and not yet a Horcrux. Harry had a horrible feeling that Tom didn't intend for it to stay that way for long, and his suspicions were confirmed as Tom lifted his wand, pointing it right at Harry's scar.

"I've been studying this for a while, researching how to make one of these," said Tom softly. "Horcruxes, Harry, do you know what they are?"

"Yeah," Harry snapped back, fighting the overwhelming feeling of panic at the back of his mind. "I've already destroyed two."

"Have you now?" said Tom idly. "How fitting that a Destroyer of Horcruxes should meet his end in the making of one. I cannot live while you survive, my adversary. You know far too much about me. My apologies; you have real power, it will be a pity to waste it. Alas, I have no choice." His eyes hardened. "Besides, you appear to have stolen my Sensitarius. Severus is mine, mine, and he always will be. Avada Ke-"

"Leave him alone!" Somehow, Snape had overcome the pain in his Mark and dragged himself to his feet. Before Tom could finish the curse, Snape had flung himself at Tom, grabbing his robes and hauling him to the ground.

"You- how dare you?" Tom cried, struggling to throw Snape off him and get a good aim with his wand. "You're mine, damn you! You dare to strike me, your master?"

"You're not my master," Snape growled. "You're just a cocky little half-blood with ideas above his station and a misplaced god complex. And you're not going to win this time, Riddle."

"My name is Lord Voldemort!" Tom roared, shoving Snape away. "And you're going to die and die in pain, you treacherous Sensitarius whore!" He grabbed Snape by the arm and planted a thumb against his Mark. Snape screamed, his arm feeling like it was on fire. Tom knelt next to him, watching him thrash in agony, looking enraptured at the sight.

"Yes," he hissed. "Yes, scream for me, Severus. Remember whose you are! Scream loud enough, I might even keep you alive. Call me master again, and you may yet be forgiven."

"N-never," Snape managed to cry out. Tom pressed harder, and the pain intensified. Snape screamed even more, arching his back in a grotesque parody of orgasm.

"Call... out... my... name!" Tom cried, frustratedly jabbing at the Mark with each word. Snape gritted his teeth, opening his eyes to see Harry staring at him over Tom's shoulder. He was watching in horror, and Snape could practically feel Harry's magic unfurling as his anger at Tom started to rise. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life, and suddenly he realised why Harry was the Chosen One. He believed suddenly, as he'd never believed anything else before, that Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, was vulnerable and that Harry Potter was the one to bring him down. And I will be there when it happens, and I will help you do it; you are stronger than he is, better than he is, you can save me from him and I choose to follow you!

"Harry," he gasped, eyes never leaving Harry's. "Harry!"

Tom's magic raged around him, crashing down around Snape like a tidal wave. It barely registered. Snape laughed, despite the pain. Tom couldn't touch him any more. Inside at least, he was free.

Tom by this time had recovered his wand, and he twisted around, the full force of his rage turning on Harry.

"I will kill him here and now," he seethed. "I will make Severus scream until his body can handle it no more and his bones burst out of his chest. I'm going to force myself into him, take him over and over again until there's nothing left of his arse to fuck. And you, Potter, you're going to stand there and watch! Petrificus Totalus!" The curse hit Harry before he could move, freezing him in place, unable to do anything or even look away. Tom returned his attention to Snape, madness in his eyes as his charming front gave way to the monster within.

"And now, my pet, you're going to learn just who your master is." He raised his wand. Snape closed his eyes. Harry couldn't help him. He was doomed and he knew it. All he could do was hope the end came swiftly, but he wasn't optimistic. Tom's wand touched his Mark, and the pain began again. Snape couldn't even hear his own screams. This was it then. Pain unimaginable until the end came at last.

It came sooner than he thought.

"Avada Kedavra!" Snape felt the rush of magic and displaced air, the green light penetrating his eyelids, and the pain erupted in his arm in one rush before stopping very suddenly. Snape collapsed to the floor. If this was death, it wasn't as peaceful as he'd imagined. For a start, he was aching all over and he was gasping for breath. He opened his eyes to see the Astronomy Tower's roof above him.

I'm not dead. So who had cast the curse then? Who had died? He sat up, wincing at the pain in his back and arms, looking desperately for Harry.

He was alive, if shaken. He was clinging to the parapet, evidently free of the Body-Bind Tom had cast... and he was staring, not at Snape but at his side. Snape turned to see what had caught Harry's attention.

Tom Riddle was lying spreadeagled on the floor, sightless eyes staring into nothing and once-handsome face turned pale and waxen. His chest was still, and his wand had fallen from his hand, rolling away. The Killing Curse hadn't been meant for Snape... but for Tom.

Snape turned back to Harry. He'd known Harry was strong but he hadn't known Harry was capable of getting out of a Body-Bind cast by a wizard of Tom's ability.

"You?" he whispered, barely able to speak. Harry slowly shook his head, indicating for Snape to turn around.

Eileen Prince, the Disillusionment Charm that had kept her hidden from Tom and thus out of range of his Disarming Charm having broken when she'd used her own magic, was standing there, staring at Tom's body as if she couldn't quite work out why Tom wasn't alive any more. The smoke was still rising from her wand. Noticing the two wizards' eyes on it, she slowly lifted it up, staring at it for all of a second or two, before the pieces connected and she threw it to the ground with a little scream.

"Oh god," she cried, backing off, hands over her mouth. "Oh god, no, what have I done, what have I done??" She screamed the last words out hysterically, sinking to the floor as she backed into the wall, her whole body shaking as her mind went to pieces.

"Eileen," Harry whispered, moving towards her, but Snape was faster. Dragging himself to his feet, he staggered to her side and held her, stroking her hair and making soothing noises.

"It's all right, mam," he murmured, dropping his usual voice and returning to his childhood accent. "It's going to be all right. Harry an' me, we'll look after you. I promise. You're gonna be all righ', you are."

Eileen looked up at him, staring into his eyes. "Flippin' 'eck, our Severus," she whispered. "All right? I've just killed someone, the timeline's completely buggered up, and as if all that weren't bad enough, me son's a Yorkshireman." She wiped a tear away from her eye. "All told, I've had better nights." She looked again at Tom Riddle's body. "Oh god," she wept, before bursting into tears and burying her head in Snape's robes. Snape held her, whispering words of comfort all the while wondering what on earth they were going to do now. It was then that he got the shock of his life as Harry approached and put his arms around them both. Snape started at the touch, but he didn't hesitate long. Letting go of Eileen, he slipped an arm around Harry too and the three of them held each other for what seemed like eternity, three survivors forever linked by what they'd gone through. Snape glanced at Harry, wondering why on earth the boy was being affectionate to him after everything that had happened. Harry glanced up and managed a half-smile.

"Snape, you're a complete arse, but when it mattered, you told Riddle to go to hell. I won't forget that." He grimaced as he spoke the next words, as if they physically pained him. "Suppose you're not all bad. I mean, you do keep saving my life and everything."

"Thank you, Potter. Most gracious of you," Snape replied, resolutely hiding the pride that had flared within at Harry's words. "I shall remember that when I next feel the need for your approval." The malice that once would have underlain his words was absent though, and he almost found himself smiling as he looked at Harry. Then he noticed something unusual about the boy.

"Potter," he began. "Did you know your scar is gone?" Harry immediately felt his forehead, tracing where it had once been and gasping sharply as he realised his skin was smooth.

"What about your Mark?" Harry asked. Snape rolled his left sleeve back to reveal unblemished skin. Harry ran his fingers over it, before looking up at Snape with a smile.

"You've got your second chance back," he told him.

"And you're not the Boy Who Lived any more."

"Thank god," Harry grinned. He noticed the surprise on Snape's face. "What? You think I liked all the attention?"

"Well... yes," Snape admitted. Harry shook his head.

"Oh god, no, I hated it," said Harry cheerfully. "All the staring, all the talking about me, everyone wanting to be seen with the Boy Who Lived, the media charting my every move and blatantly making stuff up about me, all the minions of Voldemort trying to kill me – no, actually, I'm quite glad I don't have to put up with any of that any more, to be honest." He scrutinised Snape carefully, remembering how Snape had described looking forward to the end of the war and no longer having to work for Voldemort. Harry suddenly realised how Snape had felt. "You and I really misjudged each other, didn't we?" he said softly.

"I..." Snape chose his words very carefully. "It's possible I may have treated you a little unjustly in the past and that perhaps we have more in common than I previously thought," he admitted. Harry guessed that was probably as close to an apology as he was ever going to get from Snape, but he was still too stunned at realising his scar was gone to care.

"That's just it though," said Harry. "That past, it doesn't happen now. It never happens. You don't join the Death Eaters, my parents don't die, there's no war, no Order, you might not even be teaching now." Snape did break out into a blissful grin at that.

"And I don't die," said Eileen. Harry and Snape turned to her, both having temporarily forgotten she was there. She stared at both of them. "I don't get killed by... him!" She indicated where Tom's body was still lying. "I don't die!" she whispered. She looked like she was about to burst into tears again. Snape pulled her against him and gave Harry a worried look. Eileen's earlier words about the timeline having gone wrong came back to him.

"I think we may have a problem, Potter," said Snape softly. "If Eileen doesn't die, if the Dark Lord is not around to kill her, then the Harp of Ravenclaw never becomes a Horcrux, and we never get sent back in time. I think we may be in serious trouble."

"Your friend's Tempus Reversit worked better than she ever could have imagined, it seems," said Eileen. Harry's face fell as he began to realise the implications of all this... and then it clicked. Tempus Reversit. The time reversing spell, reversing time so it was as if the Horcrux Harp had never been.

"Yes," he whispered, "yes it did, of course, better than even Hermione could have planned." He looked from Eileen's confused face to Snape's and back. "Don't you see? This is what was meant to happen. The Horcrux was created when Voldemort killed Eileen Snape – so the spell acted to reverse that, so it would never happen. And how better to do it than to have Eileen kill Riddle instead, at a time when you were both relatively evenly matched, before Tom Riddle had started making Horcruxes and his soul was still intact? Snape and I got sent back to act as catalysts, to give you a reason, yes it all makes sense now!" Harry was positively glowing at having worked all this out. This must be how Hermione felt all the time.

"And the prophecy?" Snape asked. "You're meant to be the Chosen One, Potter."

"Not here though," said Harry. "The prophecy hasn't been made yet. Anyway, he's not the Dark Lord yet, is he? He's just a schoolboy, he's not made any Horcruxes, he's not yet founded the Death Eaters. The prophecy doesn't apply."

Eileen stared at Harry, at a loss as to what to make of this. "This... was rigged?" she said. "Pre-determined by a spell? You mean your friend's time reversing spell planned to turn me into a murderer?" She shrieked the last word out. Snape flinched back from her, but Harry was made of sterner stuff. Smiling, he took her hands in his.

"No," he said. "Not a murderer. You killed the Dark Lord. That doesn't make you a murderer. That makes you a hero."

"I'm very relieved to hear it," came a dry voice from the stairs. "But alas, I don't think the Ministry and Wizengamot will see it that way."

Eileen cried out in horror, clinging to Snape. Harry had already got his wand out and stepped in front of both of them... but when he saw who had appeared, he lowered it. Dumbledore, with Fawkes perched on his shoulder, was gazing at all three of them with eyes like thunder.

"I... I didn't mean to!" Eileen cried. Snape hushed her before turning to Dumbledore, gearing up for a fight.

"It wasn't her," he said. "She's got nothing to do with this. Potter – Harry and I, it was our doing."

Harry immediately took up the refrain, all his Gryffindor stubbornness in defending what he knew to be right coming to the fore. "That's right, sir. It was us. It was why we came back – Riddle's the Dark Lord in our time, the one who made Horcruxes."

"And he was about to kill Harry to make one," said Eileen, drying her eyes and pushing both boys aside to stand in front of them. "Severus tried to stop him, so Tom petrified Harry and started torturing Severus. So I killed him." She gasped as she heard herself say the words out loud. "Oh my god," she whispered. "I killed him!" She put a hand to her mouth as she sank to her knees.

"Eileen!" Harry said. "Don't – you shouldn't be punished for killing him! You've done the world a favour!" Both Harry and Snape turned to Dumbledore, pleading.

"Don't turn her in," Snape begged. "Please don't turn her in. She's fifteen, she has no idea. Punish us if you will, we know what the world would have been like if Riddle had lived, we can cope. But please, leave her alone. It's not her fault."

Dumbledore frowned deeply, but he was prevented from saying anything by Fawkes taking flight and landing on Eileen's shoulder. To everyone's astonishment, the phoenix began to sing, and the song lifted everyone up. It was a song of triumph, of light, love and loyalty, of victory and celebration. It was a song of hope and a new beginning. And as Fawkes sang, he began to cry and the tears splashed on to Eileen's face.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Oh, you're so beautiful!" She caressed the phoenix, which didn't seem to mind in the slightest, trilling as it did so. As the phoenix kept crying on Eileen's cheek, Eileen's own tears dried up and soon she was smiling, absolutely entranced by the bird. Watching, Dumbledore put his wand away. Harry and Snape both blinked on realising he was smiling. Was there hope after all?

"No truly Dark person can touch a phoenix with impunity, and Fawkes in particular would never willingly go to anyone wholly lost to the Light, much less heal their soul damage. In any case, I heard your conversation as I came up the stairs. I believe you."

Harry and Snape both released breaths they hadn't realised they'd been holding. Eileen looked up, her face shining.

"You won't turn me in?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"In the light of what Mr. Potter and Mr. Snape are claiming, I rather think I should be presenting you with an award. But as it's not generally a good idea to be seen to be encouraging the murdering of one's fellow students, however much they might deserve it, I fear I will not be able to do that on this occasion. However, I can make some arrangements." With a wave of his wand, Riddle's body had been banished in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. "He has no family to press for an investigation, and I'm sure we can convince the rest of Slytherin House that he ventured into the forest alone and met with an unfortunate and tragic end. You three, of course, have not seen him all evening and he certainly never came up here."

"Of course," all three of them echoed, exchanging conspiratorial grins. Eileen in particular seemed quite recovered from the shock - whether due to the healing effects of the phoenix tears or due to realising that she was going to get away with it was a matter for debate, but nevertheless she seemed a lot happier.

"There is the little matter of Dark detection spells on the castle that record any dangerous and dark spells cast in the castle, of which the Killing Curse is certainly one. Indeed, it was the alarms on those records going off that sent me up here," said Dumbledore. "However, as luck would have it, the Headmaster is at a Ministry function in London and not expected back until very late tonight. As Deputy Headmaster, it will be a simple matter for me to remove the evidence, particularly as no one but me has seen it."

Eileen actually squealed at this. Harry and Snape exchanged looks.

"Are we sure he was Gryffindor?" asked Harry. Snape nodded.

"So the records say."

"So they do," Dumbledore chuckled. "But what I never told anyone was that it was a very near thing between Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"I'm really not surprised," Snape murmured.

"I nearly got Sorted into Slytherin too," said Harry. "It was a very close thing in the end."

"Remind me to thank the Hat," Snape remarked dryly. Harry looked sharply to see Snape grinning at him.

"Oh. That was a joke, right?" Harry laughed faintly.

"Mostly, Potter. Mostly."

Dumbledore smiled indulgently and whistled Fawkes back over to him. Eileen looked rather disappointed as she watched the bird leave.

"My dear Miss Prince, I have no objection to you visiting my office to see Fawkes now and then if you wish," said Dumbledore, smiling and looking far more like the Headmaster he would become than Harry had yet seen him. "And now, I shall leave you young people to make your own way back to your houses. Goodnight." He left, humming to himself. Eileen also excused herself.

"I'll leave you two to talk," she said with a wink. "Severus, shall I meet you in the Entrance Hall in about half an hour?" Snape nodded, and Eileen was gone.

"So," said Harry. "Now what? The spell's played out – do we get to go back home or what?" Snape didn't answer him. "Snape?" Harry prodded him. "Say something?"

"It's a Time Reversing Spell," said Snape. "It undoes time, it returns the subject to their past. But they have to return to what they were the hard way. Potter, unless we can find a method of travelling into the future, we're not going anywhere."

"What?" cried Harry. "But... Ron, Hermione! I'll never see them again!"

"Not for many years," said Snape. "But Potter – Harry, don't you see? That time, the time we came from does not exist any more. Even if we were to travel to 1996 again, it would not be the time we left. You would not be on a Horcrux quest, I would be gainfully employed in a respectable career... and our selves in that time, the people we would have been, the people we will be without the Dark Lord's influence, they will not want two other versions of themselves turning up." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Harry. Eileen was wrong about the timeline imploding – the universe will deal with this, work around it and carry on as if nothing happened. But we can never go home again, because there is no home to go back to. This is home now, Harry."

Harry didn't answer. He was too busy thinking of all he'd left behind, all he'd never see again, of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the rest of the Gryffindors he knew. Even the dreams he'd been harbouring since Riddle had died, of going back and finding his parents were still alive, that Sirius was alive and had never been to Azkaban, that everything was just generally better, had shattered. Yes, all that would happen, but not to him. It would happen to a boy that just happened to have his looks and his name, born forty years in the future. Tears began pricking at his eyeballs as he furiously wiped them away.

"Don't." Snape put an awkward arm around Harry. "Don't cry. I never was any good at dealing with tears, don't make me start now."

"Why would you care?" said Harry, his throat tightening. "Why the bloody hell would you care?"

"Potter, don't be a fool," Snape sighed. "We are not who we were, and certainly not who the other thought we were. And we are the only two from the old world who are left, the only ones who remember. That if nothing else ties us together."

"Is there anything else?" said Harry, pain making him irritable. "I mean, you never liked me before."

"I didn't know you before," said Snape. "But I've felt your magic since you were eleven, and it... unsettled me. It only grew over the years, and I think I was harsher than strictly necessary simply to keep myself from losing control over a student, and the son of my old enemy at that. But here you're not my student and my old enemy hasn't even been born yet. And if I want to lose myself in your magic, then I'm damn well going to." So saying, he turned Harry to face him, bent down and kissed him. Harry went very still, before his reflexes kicked in and he found himself opening his mouth and reaching out to pull Snape closer. Snape moaned as he did so, tightening his grip on Harry and running his hands through his hair. It wasn't long before Snape had Harry backed up against one of the pillars, kissing him passionately, erection rubbing against Harry's thigh. Harry wondered briefly how he'd ever tell Ron and Hermione about this... before remembering that his Ron and Hermione didn't exist and never would, and that it really didn't matter how they'd have reacted now. Snape was right – it was just the two of them left. Why not make the most of it?

"Reckon... Eileen... will approve?" Harry panted as Snape began fiddling with the zip on Harry's trousers.

"Approve?" Snape grunted, slipping a hand into Harry's boxers. "Judging from what I've seen so far, she'll be sending us flowers."

"She'll... what?" Harry gasped, then wriggled as Snape's fingers closed around his cock and Snape's teeth bit down at the base of his neck. "Oh... yes... do that again!"

"In case... you hadn't noticed..." Snape growled as he nibbled Harry's throat, resulting in yet more squirming and groaning, "my mother... appears to be... quite the pervert."

Harry remembered the knowing grin on Eileen's face when she'd - correctly, as it turned out - assumed he was interested in men, and decided Snape probably had a point. However, given that Snape had just dropped to his knees and taken Harry's cock in his mouth, he ceased to care about anything else.

Afterwards, Harry lay curled up next to Snape, head resting on his chest.

"What now?" Harry asked.

"Now? We should clean up, meet Eileen and go back to our respective houses. Eileen and I in particular will have to use our Occlumency to the best of our abilities and lie like hell. Then we will all have to look surprised when he doesn't come back tonight, and later turns up dead."

"I'm not talking about Riddle," Harry snapped. "I'm talking about us." He hesitated, wondering if he was assuming too much. "Is there even an us? One blowjob and a quick grope doesn't make us an item, does it?"

"Normally, it would not. But this is hardly a normal situation." Snape tightened his grip on Harry. "I won't lie to you. I am not a demonstrative man by nature, nor am I a romantic."

Harry snorted, remembering Snape blasting rose bushes at the Yule Ball. "I never would have guessed."

Snape lightly tapped Harry's face. "Impertinent brat. I don't know if we should call ourselves a couple or not. But I have no objections to further, er, encounters. I believe I can tolerate holding conversations with you in the process."

As declarations of affection went, it hardly ranked alongside the sonnets of Shakespeare or the poetry of Sappho. But it was a start.

"It'll do," Harry grinned, drawing closer to Snape. He might never have Ron, Hermione or Sirius back... but this might just do instead.



The disappearance of Tom Riddle caused no end of disturbance in Slytherin House, and that only increased when his body turned up in the Forbidden Forest two days later; what remained of it in any case. Suspicion immediately fell on Snape, Harry and Eileen, all of whom carefully refused to say anything until Eileen finally cracked and admitted the three of them had fled the school after the Priori Incantatem battle and taken refuge in the Forest, where Riddle had eventually found them. A war of words had broken out, only interrupted when the centaurs descended. They'd let Eileen, Harry and Snape go, as the boys looked young for their years and Eileen was only fifteen... but Riddle had always looked far too grown-up for his own good, and when the centaurs had closed in, promptly sealed his fate by antagonising them and trying to hex them. Snape and Harry had confirmed this story, and surprisingly, so had the centaurs, although they'd refused to name names. If Dumbledore had had any part in arranging this, he gave no sign of it. Dippet had in the end concluded death by misadventure and left it at that, the general consensus being that if Riddle had been stupid enough to piss off the centaurs, he deserved everything he got.

Much as had happened in the original 1981, the proto-Death Eater movement dissolved with its leader's death. Riddle's weakness had always been that he ruled more by fear and personal presence than by love and true loyalty, and when that was gone, those left behind did not mourn him much. Power in Slytherin defaulted to Abraxas Malfoy and Cygnus Black, although all the Slytherins not from wealthy families ended up drifting to Severus Snape's side. Meanwhile in Gryffindor, Harry Potter became a celebrity yet again as people gave him pats on the back for seeing off Tom Riddle. This only got worse once Minerva McGonagall discovered he could fly and promptly recruited him for the House Quidditch Team. It spoke much of how Snape and Eileen liked him that they still professed themselves willing to be friends, and even cheered for Gryffindor sometimes. It spoke much of how Harry liked them that he didn't take it personally when they didn't back him in the Slytherin/Gryffindor games.

It also transpired from the diary found on Riddle's body that he'd been responsible for the death of Myrtle Higgins last year, due to a basilisk he kept in a hidden chamber underneath the school. This resulted in the reinstatement of young Rubeus Hagrid as a student, much to Harry's delight. He set about taking the young half-giant under his wing and helping him catch up with the work he'd missed, although that wasn't much.

Riddle's diary also revealed he was responsible for the murder of his father and paternal grandparents. After examination of the man currently in Azkaban for this crime revealed that false memories of the deed had been implanted by Tom Riddle, Morfin Gaunt's conviction was overturned and he was released. He was found dead of alcohol poisoning six months later, but nevertheless he died with his name clear. The whole thing also induced a strange collective amnesia in Slytherin House as formerly close friends of the self-styled Heir of Slytherin suddenly declared that they'd always thought he was a bit odd and never liked him really, and wasn't the whole bloodlines controversy so last century anyway? So keen were they to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Riddle that they took the unprecedented step of talking Slughorn into announcing that Slytherin might be prepared to start accepting certain carefully selected Muggleborn students.

In 1944, the dark wizard Grindelwald intensified his campaign of terror and Dumbledore decided to intervene, putting together the first Order of the Phoenix to combat him. Unusually, he recruited some of the older Hogwarts students to assist with the research effort, most notably Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Harry Potter and Eileen Prince.

In 1945, the Muggle Second World War ended, and so did the Magical European War as Dumbledore brought down Grindelwald. That Severus Snape and Harry Potter were found the morning after the victory party curled up in a semi-naked heap with Snape clutching an empty bottle of Firewhiskey surprised no one... but it was rather more of a shock to find Minerva McGonagall and Eileen Prince curled up under a blanket with the remnants of several gin and tonics scattered around them.

By the beginning of 1946, Harry Potter was famous throughout the wizarding world yet again as the brilliant new Seeker for the Chudley Cannons, finally helping them break their losing streak and leading them to victory in the Championships. Harry silently raised a glass to the Ron Weasley yet to be born. Snape could only comment that at least he'd earned the fame this time around.

Snape meanwhile had scored the highest marks ever seen on his Potions NEWT, and his marks on Defence Against the Dark Arts weren't bad either. He was promptly hired by Arsenius Jigger's prestigious apothecary as an apprentice, during which time he managed to complete his apprenticeship in half the time normally taken by young wizards. Eileen Prince followed him the year after, although it took her the normal four years to complete her apprenticeship. There may or may not have been much private complaining about cheating time travellers.

In 1952, having finally sorted out proper citizenship records (the Ministry was fairly lax about this sort of thing on the whole, but the International Association of Quidditch was not), Harry made it on to the England team and captained them to victory in the World Cup two years later. Eileen was ecstatic and even Snape seemed pleased.

In 1956, with Harry's Quidditch earnings languishing in the bank doing nothing, he offered to help Eileen and Snape set up their own business, a long-term dream of theirs. In 1957, both of them resigned from their jobs and opened the Dark Firebird Alchemy Lab in Huddersfield, Yorkshire, named in memory of their Order days and specialising in difficult and hard to brew potions.

In 1958, Eileen turned down the young Muggle coal deliverer Tobias Snape who'd developed a bit of a crush on her. The space-time continuum did not fall apart. Tobias took the news well, married a local Muggle girl and had a daughter called Emily in 1960 who, due to some twist of fate, started showing signs of magic at age four. Four years later Tobias and his wife were killed in a road traffic accident that they might have survived had Tobias married a witch. Eileen immediately applied to adopt Emily Snape out of a sense of guilt, changing the girl's name to hers. Snape wholeheartedly approved, and Harry retired from professional Quidditch entirely to help Eileen look after the girl, at least until she went to Hogwarts anyway.

The years passed. Many things happened, which are a whole other story in themselves. But 1996 finally came around once more, and it found Harry Potter the elder (James Potter having been inspired to name his first-born after the great Seeker he remembered from his childhood) and Severus Snape on top of the Astronomy Tower, reminiscing.

"Well, we did it," said Harry softly. His hair had gone dark grey, but he still looked as youthful as ever. Snape by this time was far too fond of the brat to be jealous. "We got back to 1996 eventually."

"We did," said Snape, sipping his Firewhiskey. "Are you pleased with how it turned out?"

Harry shrugged. "Could be worse. Could be better. Sirius still died."

"He was, as I recall, needlessly tormenting a baby Manticore and then had the nerve to look surprised when it impaled him through the chest," Snape pointed out. "You cannot blame anyone other than him for that, the break-up with Lupin notwithstanding."

"Yeah but still," said Harry. "It hardly seems fair."

"Yes, well, maybe some things are just meant to be," said Snape. "Bellatrix Lestrange never went to Azkaban, she just went mad after her miscarriage and ended up in St. Mungos after claiming to be pregnant with the reborn Heir of Slytherin. Either way, she ends up as a deranged Voldemort-obsessed lunatic who's incarcerated for the good of all. Your young namesake is still fast friends with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and he's dating Ginevra Weasley. The Malfoy family are much the same as they always were except Lucius does not have anything like the political influence he once had, and Remus Lupin has recently fallen for Nymphadora Tonks. And look at who I could have been – Emily Pettigrew, formerly Prince and Snape, is married to Wormtail with two children in Hufflepuff... but she's still doing my old job."

"But the difference is she freely chose to, and she enjoys it," Harry grinned. "And the kids like her. Look at her with Neville – he was hopeless at Potions when he started and she managed to get him an E grade at the OWLs. He reckons she's one of his favourite teachers. She doesn't favour Slytherin as much as you used to either, although to be fair it's hard to see how anyone could."

"Behave yourself, brat." Snape playfully swatted at Harry, who dodged away, poking his tongue out. Snape turned back to look at the lake, and the reason they'd come back in the first place. The white tomb that had appeared earlier was shining in the moonlight.

"He still died in this very year, on the exact same day, at the same time," said Snape softly. "Harry, do you still want me to believe there is no such thing as fate?"

"He was 155," said Harry. "It was only a matter of time. At least this way it was peacefully in bed, as opposed to..." He stopped right there, remembering what happened in the original timeline.

"As opposed to me killing him?" said Snape. "Relax, Potter, I've long since come to terms with that. Having the man himself regularly dropping in to acquire Potions ingredients or pass requests along or ask us to come in and interview promising Potions students or drop veiled hints that Slughorn was thinking of retiring and would either Eileen or myself be interested in teaching cured me of any angst I might feel on that score."

Harry smiled, relieved as the stress he'd been carrying ever since Fawkes had turned up at Dark Firebird and attached himself to Eileen finally fell from his shoulders.

"Good," he said. "I'm glad. I've forgiven you for it as well."

"Have you really, Potter," said Snape, sounding bored rather than anything else. "I'm so glad you mentioned that. I never would have known otherwise. The fact that you've been sharing my bed for most nights since 1945 except when you've been touring with the various Quidditch teams you've played for really gave me no hints whatsoever."

"Cheeky bastard," Harry laughed. Smiling, he drew his lover in for a long, lingering kiss, all lips and tongues everywhere and fingers grasping at hair. When they finally broke apart, Snape was gasping. He staggered in Harry's arms, head resting on his shoulder.

"Harry," he whispered, clutching on to Harry's clothes as if for support. "My Harry." He closed his eyes, breathing in the magic. Fifty years on and it still made him feel as alive as it ever had. He must be just over seventy years old by now, he'd actually lived over eighty years in all, but he still felt young and he attributed that in large part to Harry's magic and the effect it had on him. He sometimes wished he could see the Ron and Hermione of the old world, just so he could thank them. He would never regret any of this, could never regret any of this. But sometimes, he wondered if Harry felt the same.

"Harry. If you could change things, put them back to the way they had been... would you?"

Harry frowned, puzzled. "What, back to the way they were before we were sent back?"

Snape nodded.

"But... why would I want to do that?" Harry asked. "My parents are dead there, Sirius is an outcast who gets murdered by his own cousin and the whole wizarding world gets ravaged by Voldemort. Why on earth would I want to go back to that?"

Snape shrugged. "You had friends there. Granger and Weasley, don't you miss them? What about your girlfriend, young Ginevra? Don't you ever wish you could have her in your arms again?" He felt his voice breaking on the last words.

Harry tightened his grip. He hadn't realised Snape was this worried about it. For Harry, this had long ceased to be an issue. True, he'd searched endlessly for a way back at first, but then Dumbledore had invited him to join the Order and he'd had no time to look. Then had come the celebrations, then the Cannons job and the Championship victories, then the England call-up and the World Cup wins and before he knew it he was in his thirties and it was far, far too late to ever go home again. Then Eileen had adopted Emily and he'd had a family to consider. And then somewhere along the line he'd realised that even if he could go back, he didn't want to. Perhaps it had been when the younger Harry had been born and there had been someone else there to live his old life now. He'd thought Snape had known that. Although, Harry thought guiltily, he'd never actually got around to telling him. Maybe that had been a mistake.

"No," he said. "No, not any more. Maybe once. But not now. Truth be told, I can barely remember what it felt like to hold her." He trailed a finger down Snape's cheek. "It's you I want these days. Just you. I love you, Severus. And I wouldn't change any of this for the world."

Snape barely reacted, just watching Harry closely. Then he pulled Harry to him and kissed him again, very gently this time.

"I love you too, you irritating little brat," he murmured. Harry laughed. Even after fifty years and more, Snape still thought of him as the bratty schoolboy he'd known before. It was actually rather endearing.

"Yes, but I'm your irritating little brat," Harry pouted, and somehow, despite Harry being an adult wizard of seventy, the expression did not look completely ridiculous on him.

"That you are," said Snape, leaning in to Harry as they watched the stars shine down on Hogwarts. "That you are."
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