Chapter 1

When am I?

Snape sat at his desk scowling darkly at the stack of essays waiting to be graded. Wearily closing his eyes, he passed a hand over his eyes before continuing to read through the bleary, smudged words and drips that did nothing to hide the inadequacies of the careless thinking the essays showed. Sighing in frustration, Snape threw his red inked quill to the desk, "This isn't divination class. Guesses will not make a potion work. Paying attention to amounts, careful attention to detail, exacting motions; these are the traits that make potion making an art."

The bubbling and popping of the small iron cauldron summoned Severus from his desk. With a decisive wave of his wand, the flame beneath the cauldron lowered itself to a small blue flicker. Watching the potion gently ripple, Snape felt his frustration ease as the calming serenity and beauty of potion making worked its way through him again. Reinvigorated with the lure of purpose, he turned back to grading the remaining essays on his desk.

Snape felt his muscles revel in moving as he walked to the potions closet after spending hours sitting hunched over his desk. Feeling back in his own element, he moved with ease through his stores as he retrieved the wispy Angelica root from its wicker basket. In the light of the fluttering candle that hovered beside him, he carefully examined the root turning and feeling it for any blemish that would taint the potion. Placing it gently on the cutting table, his trained fingers begin to cut the root into wafer thin slices before placing them in the pestle, and with quick practiced pounds turned the once stiff root into a smooth paste.

Watching the hourglass's white sand, Snape measured the passing of time waiting until the exact moment to add the last ingredient. The healing draught that Madame Pomfrey needed would take two hours to simmer after the addition of the Angelica paste. Smiling, he thought of the hours of undisturbed silence he would enjoy before the healing potion would be finished.

As the last grain of sand fell through the hourglass, the potion gave a loud pop and growl as it became crystal clear. Seeing the potion change color, Snape slowly stirred the potion clockwise three times with the glass stirring rod before switching directions and slowly adding the paste. He watched in fascination as deep ruby spirals briefly appeared before the potion turned completely red. Muttering contentedly, he walked to his study and fell back into the large worn overstuffed chair to enjoy the quiet sounds of the dungeon.

His peaceful moment was interrupted by a soft knock. Groaning at the interruption he turned toward the door, frowning as he growled out for this miscreant to enter.

Swallowing hard the young sandy haired boy stood there quivering in his overly large robes bearing the Hufflepuff crest. "Headmaster requests you come to his office at once, Professor".

"Mr. Regeld is it?" The boy nodded his head sending his shaggy hair bobbing around his wide youthful face at Snape's dark tone. "Please inform the Headmaster that I am needed here to attend to the potions for Madam Pomfrey."

Regeld nodded again to cover his smile. "Headmaster said you would tell me that, Sir. He said to tell you it was extremely important for you to come and to inform you that you will be back before the potion is complete."

Groaning, Snape rose from his chair. "You will stay and watch this potion. Should anything change you will get me immediately. Touch nothing." He turned on his heel and stormed from his office.

The young boy only stared after him in a shocked silence. After a few moments of standing alone facing the professor's empty desk, he began to move about the empty room finally coming to rest at the shimmering and bubbling red potion in the dark cauldron. Moving around the normally off limits areas of the Potion Master's study, Regeld was entranced by the oddly colored phials and curious names written in Snape's scrawling spidery hand. Wandering around the shelves of ingredients he didn't note to passage of time until, the quiet room was suddenly filled with a loud crack as the potion exploded sending a spray of red liquid around the room. Seeing no one to help him, Regeld picked up the nearest stirring paddle and quickly mixed the potion to ease the bubbling. He watched as the potion turned clear, breathed what sounded like a sigh, and relaxed before turning back to its original red.

Regeld sighed with relief as well as he collapsed to Snape's chair. Sitting in the quite solitude of the dungeon, he felt a strange languor surround him as he nestled deeper into the chair's warm comfort. He intently watched the potion simmer gently on the flame as he blinked repeatedly against the pull of sleep. With a yawn, Stephen Regeld leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes and drifting to sleep.

Much later, Snape dodged into his office frantically checking the hourglass by the cauldron, Breathing a sigh of relief that he still had a few moments before the potion would be finished he looked around to find where the noticeably absent Mr. Regeld had wandered off to. His search was interrupted by the soft snoring in the corner. "Ten points from Hufflepuff for sleeping while attending a potion. You may go now Mr. Regeld." He watched the young man jump from his chair blinking the sleep from his eyes as he instinctually moved to the door. "Mr. Regeld," the boy turned tentative eyes toward his Potions Master as he froze at the threshold, "it appears that you need more work on potions monitoring. Tomorrow evening, you will report to the potions classroom for extra practice in potions vigilance." His dark tones brooked no argument as he curtly dismissed the student.

Walking over to the cauldron, he mixed the red fluid for the last time noting its consistency. Turning out the fire, he retrieved a small glass phial and filled it with the blood red liquid. Holding it up to the candle light he carefully checked the color, before lifting the phial to his lips and taking a small swallow. A quiet evening that could have easily been spent sitting alone had turned into a lengthy discourse on the admissions for the new term. Tedious hours spent discussing the possibilities of admittance for slightly magical individuals, whether Muggle or Magical born, always gave him a migraine. He never understood why Dumbledore and McGonagall couldn't make these decisions without him or call on Flitwick or Trelawney for their input. Smiling, Severus thought of the divination exercises that Sybil Trelawney would require to determine the admittance of students, it was such a delightfully outrageous idea that he even through of suggesting it to McGonagall when he saw her just to see her reaction. Still smirking, he sat back in the soft worn leather of the tall chair behind his desk. Feeling his temples throb again, he slowly rubbed them waiting for the headache draught to work.

Suddenly, something felt wrong. His head was throbbed, his fingers pulsed, and his vision grew fuzzy. Quickly his mind ran down the list of things he had added to the potion and the preparation of each. He fought hard against the rising darkness to concentrate and remember if he had skipped a step or timed the addition of the ingredients wrong. Nothing he could remember would cause this kind of debilitating reaction to a simple headache draught. He felt the room around him grow darker as he pushed himself from the chair and staggered towards the door. Each step throbbed through weakening limbs as his hands grabbed on to the door holding his weight up by sheer determination. He felt himself swimming in a swirling mist of bright colors and shimmering lights as he collapsed to the cold stone hallway.

He didn't know how long he had lain there on the floor, but the cold stones had seemed to have warmed under his face as he slowly and shakily pushed himself from the floor. Sitting against the wall behind him, he rubbed his head shaking off the last vestiges of a fuzziness that he couldn't quite place. Soon the sound of pounding feet on bare stone roused him from his stupor. Slowly rising from the floor, Snape looked down at his robes and paused, his pants hung loose around his legs as he passed his hands over the row of buttons that lined their side. Holding his arms out he saw a similar row of buttons running along the lower part of his sleeves that also draped against his thin arm. Gently tugging the loose ends of the robe around him, he ran a finger under his shirt collar examining the area where his house tie should be, but he met only the stiff high collar of a severe white shirt. Carefully looking around the hall, he noticed that everything looked as it had when he entered his laboratory earlier that day. Fearing he had forgotten to lock his dungeon room, Snape pulled on the door and felt it firmly bolted in place he quickly added an extra ward on the room before smiling at his own insecurity.

Moving quietly through the hallway, he tried to reach the slowly moving throng of students heading toward the Great Hall for supper. Suddenly, his quickly moving feet slammed to a halt as he saw the dark green velvet robes of Professor MacGonagall standing duty at the end of the hall. Ducking low, to avoid the woman's gaze, he almost succeeded in stealthily sliding into the main corridor when the soft tones of the woman's voice broke the silence. "Severus, are you finished for the night?" she asked innocently, her voice softly lilting with a burr lilted toward the man without looking at him as she faced the passing students.

Swallowing, Severus nodded at her without looking up. But he felt lost as he realized she knew about his secret potions workshop.

"Is everything alright Severus?" MacGonagall's concern for the younger man filled her voice.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall. I...I was just heading to dinner." He looked down at the floor as he quietly answered her question.

McGonagall stood still, shocked into silence as she turned around. She could not recall the last time Severus Snape had addressed her as Professor. She watched as he walked away, slowly almost guiltily looking behind him to gauge her reaction, but her reaction to what? She couldn't quite grasp what was wrong. Suddenly shaking her off her shocked silence she called out to him, her mind finally registering the strange way that his clothes hung around his body and the awkward look of his face. "Gods," she whispered from within a clenched throat. "It's almost as if we were wearing someone else's clothes." Calling out to him in a firmer voice, she watched him turn to face her. As he brushed back his long glistening hair to fully reveal his face, she felt her face grow cold as the blood drained leaving her normally pink cheeks a chalk white. McGonagall took a startled step backward pressing herself against the cold wall behind her as the dark haired young man walked closer to her. Sensing her unease at his presence he stopped and cocked his head to one side. She watched as his unruly hair fell around his face again, and was captivated by the vitality and openness in his eyes as his hair fell away from his eyes as he looked at her. The soft light from the torches swept over his smooth skin, no missing the light lines that he wore outwardly showing his internal scars. The only thing she could think as she looked at the younger version of the man she had seen only four hours ago came to her lips, "Severus are you alright?" "Of course, Professor. I was just heading to Supper." Even his voice sounds so much softer she thought blinking quickly. "If you'll excuse me." He bowed his head to her gently as he stepped back into a group of moving students. Finally collecting herself, she spoke in a strained voice, "Severus, please come with me." Turning imperiously, she snapped her green velvet robes close to her body as she headed off down the corridor. "Yes Professor" he murmured so softly that she just barely heard him over the shuffle of student feet on their way to the Great Hall as he fell into step beside her.

Severus felt himself striding to keep up with his quickly moving Transfiguration Professor. Dodging another student he moved beside her. "Professor McGonagall?" She didn't break her stride as he lost his footing on a gap in the staircase they were climbing. "Professor, where are we going?" he asked in an uncharacteristically nervous voice.

McGonagall shook her head again, even his voice was different. If she didn't know the man behind her, she would almost say he was sweet. His voice tremored slightly as he spoke to her and without the snide derisive remarks and biting words, she could believe that he was as young as he appeared. Without thinking, testing to see what his response would be she asked him harshly, "Where do you think we are going, Mr. Snape?"

She turned abruptly on her heel facing the man/boy behind her raising her eyebrow in the intimidating way that had cowed so many other Hogwarts students. Still he stood silent, but the anger within him that defined him so well was slowly creeping back to his eyes and voice. "The Headmaster's office." he stated emotionlessly.

"Yes. And before we arrive there I'd like you to guess why, Mr. Snape?"

She watched him swallow, waiting to see what his answer would be. Slowly he drew himself up to his full height and cocked his head to one side. His body language screamed that if he was to be punished, then he wouldn't take it cowering like child. "I was in an off-limits area of the castle." he admitted sardonically, his arrogant tone returning as he pictured the loss of his retreat from his classmates. Suddenly he thought of the repercussions his actions and tone would take and his unease returned. "Professor McGonagall, please don't let the Headmaster send me home." he blurted out without thinking, revealing the part of himself that he despised the most and hid the best.

McGonagall turned and looked at the pair of dark eyes that loomed out from behind the shaggy bangs of his hair. Again, she felt herself waver in her feeling for Snape the man as she was confronted with his younger self. She swallowed as she recalled past conversations with Dumbledore about Severus' abusive father and cold home life. She spoke with a voice that was far firmer that she thought she could mustered, "That's not for me to decide Mr. Snape. The Headmaster will make that recommendation." Seeing him blanch in response as she softened her tone slightly, "Or not."

They stopped at the gargoyle that marked entry into Dumbledore's office. McGonagall stood and watched as Severus paused thoughtfully at the entry way. "Stay here while I speak with the Headmaster." She turned, her green robes billowing around her as she softly spoke the password and climbed the steps into his office.

"Albus?"

"Minerva?" The wizened man responded mirroring her tone.

Shaking her head she sat heavily into the chair by his desk. "You know. Don't you?"

"That our Potion's Master has suffered a, how shall I say this, a set back?" His blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

"A set back? Is that what you are calling it? Gods, Albus, he's 17 again. He looks more like a student than many of our current students do." Her voice rose higher and higher as the absurdness of Severus' situation struck her.

He smiled at her as her confusion registered on her face. "What does he know Minerva?"

"He's 17, Albus." she repeated wearily. "He thinks he's still a student. I stopped him coming out of his rooms. He was literally sneaking down the hall as if he didn't belong there."

"He didn't. At least not when he was here." Albus interrupted. "We all knew he had a secret place he went to practice his arts, both light and dark, and to retreat from the other students. How very touching to find out he turned his retreat into his classroom."

"When I questioned him, he called me Professor McGonagall. Albus he is as he was. He's ... he's a child."

"And what does he know?" The headmaster tented his hands in thought as he looked penetratingly as his deputy.

"I can't say for sure. But, he knew about mealtimes, student schedules, he acts as if he was here just yesterday, but on the other side of the desk." Her voice trailed off as she watched Albus take in her words as he worried the long white whiskers of his beard.

Long moment past as Dumbledore gazed past her, his so lost in deep thought that she thought he had forgotten her presence. Clearing her throat delicately, the older woman broke his thoughts. "Albus, I have him waiting to see you in the hall. I didn't want him running into any of the other students. I don't know how I should be reacting to this. Could you imagine if he ran into the Weasly Twins?" She shuddered as she thought of the joy her two ex-Gryffindors would delight in creating when they happened up their unsuspecting ex - Potion's Master at the next Quidditch match.

"Yes. Of course. Do send him up." She turned toward the staircase to escort Severus to the office. His voice, now light with mirth stopped her at the doorway, "And leave us be. I'll bring him in to dinner with me." She looked at him in shock with her mouth uncharacteristically open. "We will not be late dear, I promise." he said with a wink.

With eyes ready to grasp everything, Dumbledore looked at the young man that emerged out of the hidden stairwell. McGonagall was right he thought as he saw the way Snape looked. This was the young man who would soon be taking the Dark Mark. And one of only four people who Albus had ever felt he had completely failed. This was Severus as he was deciding his future and, as yet, incapable of understanding the way experience and life could wear you away. But, as Dumbledore sat there in silence he realized that this Snape had never truly been lost, he was only very well hidden. It was this sense of balance that caused Snape to return a few years after graduating and experiencing the horror that he had only alluded to when drink loosened his iron control, to offer his services to the Order of the Phoenix.

"Mr. Snape." he spoke in complete Headmaster tone as he looked at the young man before him.

"Headmaster, I was just heading to dinner when I ..."

"Was seen coming from your lab in the dungeons?" The older man raised his eyebrows making his blue eyes appear even larger from behind his half moon glasses as he finished the younger man's sentence. But Snape missed his humorous expression as he locked his eyes on the stone floor.

"I know, Severus. But we have something more important to discuss before we go to the Great Hall. You will see several changes since you last remember."

Snape looked up at him oddly. "I didn't see Lucius at all today in the hall after leaving ..." his voice trailed off.

Nodding Dumbledore continued, "You have undergone a time shift and we will work at getting you home as soon as possible, but until that time you will need to adjust to this time."

"And the year, Sir?" Severus' tone was oddly lacking in either curiosity or fear.

"It is 1997, Severus."

Snape's already pale complexion went even paler. "1997? That's over 20 years in the future." His voice grew smaller and smaller as the time difference sunk in. "Then, they are all gone sir?" his voice was so soft it could barely be heard above the small sound of Fawkes taking flight.

Nodding, Dumbledore sat quietly giving the boy time to process all this new information, smiling as Fawkes gently landed on Severus's shoulder. The dark haired boy stood before Dumbledore's desk gently stroking the soft red feathers of the Phoenix's neck as he thought about all that he realized was lost to him.

Clearing his throat, Dumbledore called Severus's attention back to the here and now. "Severus, I would like to ask you something important. You will have to be assigned a house to be in and of course you will continue with your studies while we work at finding a solution to this ... situation."

He watched as the boy's dark head bobbed seeing the sense of his comments.

"I would like to resort you, Severus. See where you fit in today. Do you have any objections to this?"

"Honestly Sir?" Dumbledore nodded his head slowly, encouraging him to speak. "Whatever you choose will be fine with me. If Lucius and my other housemates are gone, it really doesn't matter where I am placed, does it?" The look or resignation as Severus spoke, said more about his future than he words did.

"Does it bother you that Lucius is not here?" Dumbledore watched the boy very closely as Severus mutely shrugged. Although he had been aware that Lucius and Severus had been very close while at Hogwarts, he had always felt it to be more a friendship of convenience than anything else. Severus had been a quiet bookish youth when he entered Hogwarts. His passion already being the Dark Arts and potions, Severus had been an immediate success in both classes showing his skill and absorbing in new potions at a speed that has not been rivaled until Hermione Granger appeared. His skill and talent had been the subject of many private meetings between the new headmaster and his ole Potions Master during the seven years Severus has attended Hogwarts. Lucius, not being one to lose a possible powerful future ally, immediately took the boy into his more energetic social circles, providing him with the acceptance that he had craved. Despite Severus's harsh exterior and rejection of others, Lucius had seen through his armor and found a way to exploit it that Dumbledore had not been able to find.

"You've no objections then to being resorted?" He paused and looked at Severus as he stood still stroking Fawkes. The lines of worry around his temples and the lost look in his eyes seem to evaporate as Fawkes gently butted his beak against Severus's hand. "No, Sir." "Good. Then tonight we will sort you again." The older man rose to his feet and put his arm around Snape's shoulders as they walked to the doors which lead to the Great Hall. "Don't worry Severus, everything will work out fine."

A dark laugh bubbled up from within Severus as he spoke to Dumbledore's back as they headed down the spiral staircase and into the central hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Nothing ever works out for me Headmaster. I have the rather unique talent of always choosing the wrong route."

Dumbledore stopped and turned at the bottom of the staircase looking up at the boy as he descended. "May I risk telling you something, Severus?" he paused looked into the despair filled eyes that tore at the older man's heart. The boy nodded with the look of a self condemned man. "In the end you will do the right and good thing. Your future's not as bleak as you think it will be." Waving his wand in the air above Snape's head, he transformed the older Snape's now ill fitting harsh woolen suit and robes to the softer well fitting school uniform that all first years came with.

Severus looked down at the grey sweater with the Hogwarts crest and slowly fingered the emblem of all four houses. With his fingers slowly tracing the embroidered badger, raven, snake, and finally the griffon that symbolized each house that lay over his heart, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. As he looked down at Dumbledore, a wavering smile escaped his lips and lit his eyes before he seemed to catch himself and cover it with a scowl that would become the trademark smirk of Professor Severus Snape.