Fast Forward: A Time-turner with a Twist

By Oniko

Chapter One

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. are, of course, owned by J.K. Rowling.

AN: Edited and re-posted.

... ... ...

Severus Snape pulled the hood of his traveling cloak over his head as he stepped into the Hog's Head with the crate of illegally brewed potions tucked under his arm. A quick glance across the poorly lit and nearly empty pub caused a scowl to twist his thin lips; his contact wasn't here yet. He set the crate down under the table and signaled the barkeeper for a drink. He wasn't about to actually drink the sludge that filled the thick-bottomed tainted glass, but he had to at least make the attempt to blend in with the rest of the clientele.

It was a long half-hour before Mundungus Fletcher finally slunk into the seat across from him. This time, the man had a scraggly, patchy, fake beard covering his face and two, differently colored, mustaches glued upside down to his brow line.

"Where have you been?" Severus hissed.

"Sorry, mate." Fletcher shrugged and scratched his chest. "Didn't think that you wanted the Aurors riding my arse finding your little goodies. Got the stuff?"

"It's all there," Severus kicked the crate lightly causing the tightly packed vials to chime lightly. "You got my money?"

"Don't break them!" Fletcher scolded as he ducked under the table to pull the crate towards him. Severus could hear him crack the lid and check the potions. "Same quality? Didn't cut the love potions with anything did you?"

"Why don't you crack one and see?" Severus suggested less then amused at the hypocrisy of the man. They both knew full well that Fletcher cut them with the easier to make, not to mention cheaper, calming draughts or lust potions, depending on whether the addict was looking for a soporific or a manic high. These were real, bordering on dark, love potions; not those silly little things that any idiot could pick up at a joke shop to cause someone to act a fool. These gave the drinker a feeling of euphoria so intense that many addicts drank them straight. Of course most addicts were too self-centered to bother with actually trying to love someone, they just wanted the rush.

"I may be a fool, but even I know better then to sample my own goods." Fletcher grinned at him. "It'd be like stealing from myself."

Severus snorted. "But everyone else is up for grabs, right? Where's my money?"

"Great Merlin, boy, you've the patience of a satyr in a whorehouse. Here, it's all there… you don't have to count it!" Fletcher protested as Severus whipped out his wand to do just that. A quick spell and a golden number floated up from the depths of the bag, 1,200 Galleons.

Severus grunted and stood, tucking the bag in a hidden pocket in his robes, charmed so that he was the only one who could withdraw the contents, to anyone else ruffling through his clothes it would appear to be an empty pocket. "I'll contact you when the next batch is ready."

"Pleasure, doing business with you," Fletcher, tipped his hat with a painful ripping sound half of his right "eyebrow" came off, his real eyebrow with it. He stood and as he bent down to pick up the crate of love potions a small silver trinket fell out of his pocket to land a Severus' feet. In a flash Severus stooped to pick it up. "Hey, give that back."

"What is it?" Severus asked turning the small silver hourglass filled with shining white sand in his fingers. There was a small loop on one end where it could be strung on a chain and worn as a pendent.

"Careful! That's a Time-Turner!" Fletcher snapped almost causing Severus to drop it.

"A Time-Turner?"

"Yup, a flip of that hourglass thingy will send you back an hour." Fletcher told him with a conspiratorial grin. "Lifted it from some nutter."

"Ah." Severus' mind was instantly filled with visions of finally, finally being able to get a leg up on Fucktard Four. "How much?"

"Tell you the truth, that's a very rare co-mah-do-tee you're holding there," Fletcher said, rubbing his hands and easing into the bargaining. "I couldn't let it go for less then 6,000 galleons."

Severus almost flinched at the price. As it was, most of this money would be going back into his illicit potions business in order to purchase what ingredients and supplies that he could obtain legally to keep the filching from Slughorn's potion's stores to a minimum. He had to counter with a potion that would be reasonably rare or difficult to brew but not be excessively costly to produce. Since this was the first batch of the year, his cash reserve was practically non-existent after buying his books and school supplies, even second hand. "Half a case of polyjuice."

"A full crate,"

"Half a crate or you can forget doing business with me again…ever." Severus could always dig up another black market potions dealer out from under some other rock, but a skilled potions maker was damn hard to find.

"Make it a witch's dozen and you've got a deal."

"Very good," Severus said pocketing the small hourglass with the galleons.

"Hold on now," Fletcher said. "How'm I to know you won't just walk off with the 'Turner and not give me my poly."

"I'll give a third off the next batch of love potions, if I can take the Time-Turner now." There was no way Severus was going to leave without this treasure in his pocket.

"It ain't leavin' my sight without a down payment in my hand."

Severus nodded withdrew the bag of Galleons; he spelled out the 400 galleons and turned on his heel before Fletcher had the chance to pick his jaw up off the floor at Severus' easy capitulation, or his own bad luck if he thought he could wrangle any more money out of Severus. His first stop was to the apothecary. It was also his only stop. He had been hoping to spend his profit on new school robes, he was down to just the clothes on his back after a slicing hex shredded his last set beyond all repair. Not anymore. He was going to have to spend everything he had on the supplies for the next batch of the love philters and the polyjuice, and not even all of them. The most expensive items would have to be stolen; there was no help for it.

"Madam." He greeted the wizened shop keep behind the counter.

"Snape," she said. Her voice was harsh and smoke-scarred. "Your usual?"

"No, I'll need maiden's hair, bleeding hart, lacewing flies, powdered bicorn horn…" Severus trailed off trying to mentally calculate what he could afford.

She handed him a scrap of parchment and a broken stick of charcoal. He scratched out the full list of ingredients for both potions and the amounts he would need, ignoring the black stains left on his fingers by the coal-stick, then crossing out the ingredients he knew he couldn't afford.

She took one look at the list and ground out, "Eight hundred and sixty Galleons, seven Sickles, and fourteen Knuts." He winced and scratched off a couple of other items. "Seven hundred fourteen and two, twenty-three."

He nodded and dropped his remaining galleons on the table while she went in the back to gather his order. It took a while and Severus kept glancing out the dusty windows at the street outside, even though he knew that right after the full moon the Gryffindors would be staying close to home while Lupin recovered, the Gryffindors weren't the only ones he didn't get along with.

The old woman came back carrying two crates, and while she was counting out his change he checked their contents. The bottom crate was filled with neatly packed empty vials; while the top crate contained all the ingredients in jars, paper twists and thick, wobbly blown glass bottles, as well as two lined cases containing additional empty vials. He closed the crates with a practiced knock on each corner and left the apothecary with the few Sickles and Knuts in his pocket jingling only occasionally and his supplies in his arms.

He made it to his private lab, a stores closet in the old Alchemy classroom on the second floor. The intricate glass distilleries and other arcane equipment were now dusty and empty. No one ever came here anymore since it was dropped from the curriculum about a century or so ago, but he was still careful to leave no sign of his presence in the main room and check his wards on the closet.

Inside it was meticulously clean, a drastic change from the dusty abandoned room beyond. Shelves still ran the length of the room and a student table from the classroom had been pushed into the back of the space where it stretched from wall to wall. Severus quickly put away his purchases, only momentarily torn between organizing them all together and keeping them separate according to their end product. Normally he would prefer the first method, but he would only be working on these two potions for this brewing cycle with both his funds and personal stores were running dry. Settling on the second option, he emptied the first crate and nudged the empty vials under the table next to his stacked cauldrons where they weren't likely to be a tripping hazard or easily broken. Then he eagerly took out the tiny hourglass. He'd been eager to check out the Time-Turner since Fletcher told him about it.

"Okay," he whispered eagerly to himself, "One spin takes you back in time one hour." He grasped the knob on the side of the hourglass, pinched between thumb and forefinger, and twisted, and… nothing happened. The room remained exactly the same as before with his potions ingredients lined along the shelves and a corner of the crate peeking out from under the worktable. "Damn."

He stared at the tiny device, trying not to give in to the sudden rage and helplessness that threatened to overwhelm him. Tears stung his eyes. All he needed was one small break… before he broke. Severus blinked his eyes rapidly to clear them, trying to ignore his father's sneering voice echoing in his head. Pathetic, weakling, good for nothing… He closed his fist around the hourglass, wishing that he had the strength to crush the worthless thing, the pendant loop bit into his palm.

Perhaps it wasn't that it could be worn as a pendant but that it had to be worn as a pendant. But Fletcher acted like it might, he thought before arguing back, maybe he didn't know. Could he afford to just throw it away? He pulled out the cracked cauldron he used for garbage and dug through the assorted oddments; scraps of parchment and broken quills, a piece of twine… that was too short. Could he transfigure a chain? He paused in thought. He had the skills, even though Transfiguration wasn't one of his best classes. It was a simple object to object transformation, but the residue magic might affect the Time-Turner's own inherent magic. If it did, he figured that it would do one of two things. Either the stronger Time-Turner's magic would overwhelm the transfiguration causing the magic field established by the chain to snap, at which point he couldn't even begin to guess at the result but could assume that it would not be pretty. Or, transfiguration residue would interrupt the delicate magic of the Time-Turner and corrupt its proper usage in any number of unpleasant ways.

Severus stared down at the floor in thought, stared down at his shoes, his perfectly Muggle, unmagicked shoes. He ripped out the laces in one of his shoes, swearing at the stubborn knot that hadn't been untied in months and wouldn't easily come undone. Eventually he had the kinked length free from the shoe and threaded through the loop on the Time-Turner. He tied a solid knot in the dusty ends, most of it was black but it eventually faded to a dingy gray. He sneered at it. He hated the color gray, his life was gray. Fortunately this gray was easily washed away with soap and water if not magic. No not magic, magic cleaning might have the same problem as a magic chain in the first place. And as non-magic chains and cords were rare and expensive in the wizarding world his shoe lace was it. Fortunately his shoe could make due with a transfigured shoe lace.

With shaking hands and bated breath, Severus draped the black cord over his head and once again twisted the hourglass. This time the world twisted with him. Now the shelves were empty, as empty as they were an hour before he returned with his purchases.

"Yes!" he cried triumphantly, rising one fist in victory. His breath caught as the world twisted around him again. He'd been careless and his fingers brushed across the knob turning the Time-Turner back to the beginning… and his potions things were once again neatly organized on the shelves in front of him. He stood in his room in surprise, so not only could he go back but it could return him to when he started. That could be useful. He grinned and tucked the Time-Turner under his shirt. This was going to be a great year.

... ... ...

This was going to be a shitty year.

Severus glowered at the Gryffindor table from the relative safety of the Slytherin table with his back against the wall. Potter and Black were planning something. He could tell. No, not by their heads bowed conspiratorially together; they were always like that. It was the frown on Lily's face and the way her eyes would occasionally dart over to him. He wondered if she would tell him. She sometimes would. Even after everything she would somehow find a way to sneak a warning to him. A reminder of what they used to mean to each other. What she still meant to him, if he were to be honest. Far be it for a Slytherin to be honest with anyone, least of all himself. First class today was NEWTS-level Potions. They usually partnered. Maybe she would tell him then, if it didn't happen before class.

He made it safely to the Potions classroom and pulled out his book and quill for the lecture. Lily slid into her seat barely before the bell. Probably in the hall snogging Potter, he thought with a grimace. Slughorn entered a few minutes later and smiled benevolently at his small class before launching into the day's lecture. Severus idly scratched his thoughts into the margins and between the lines of his text book, the sharp edges of his words biting into the paper. It was a habit begun in earlier years because his parents couldn't afford the reams of parchment everyone else came to school with so he saved the paper for assignments and reports, anything to avoid the humiliation of begging his housemates for scraps. Sometimes, often, it wouldn't last and he would have to ask anyways. They'd give it, to do otherwise would make the house look bad, but it would inevitably come at a price. Once he had made the mistake of asking Slughorn for 15 inches so he could do an assignment in his second year Potions class. Slughorn sent an owl to his parents and he hadn't been home five minutes before learning not to do that again, ever.

"Lily," he said softly, turning imperceptibly to face her. It was barely ten minutes into the class and Severus couldn't stand the tension anymore.

"What?" she snapped back in a harsh whisper.

As if she didn't know. "What are Black and Potter up to?"

"I don't know."

"Bullshit," he hissed. "I saw your face while you where eavesdropping on those two prats."

She was silent for so long he was half-tempted to kick her chair. "What do you have against James anyways? He saved your life fifth year, can't you just bury the hatchet?"

"No I can't, and no, he didn't," Severus growled. He could feel the familiar hot flush of anger rising and his grip tightened on the quill almost to snapping. "He kept his friend from becoming a murderer. I just happened to be the lucky victim."

"Mr. Snape, do you have something to share with the class?" Professor Slughorn broke off his droning lecture to glance over at Severus.

That you're a bloody idiot who couldn't brew his way out of a paper bag, Severus thought. He used to think that Slughorn was a decent potions teacher, but once he started his illicit potions business in the Alchemy closet his own skills improved in leaps and bounds and he finally saw the man for the barely competent hack that he was. "No, sir."

"Then I suggest, Mr. Snape, that you not waste your time nor mine," Slughorn chided him gently, but it didn't ease Severus' anger in any way. "5 points from Slytherin for talking in class."

Slughorn returned his lecture and Severus returned to eviscerating his text book. After a particularly vicious crossing out of an utterly useless paragraph, Severus felt a light tap on his leg, Lily's usual method for passing notes, and retrieved the tightly folded parchment. In the process his fingers lightly brushed against hers, her long, perfect, delicate fingers. God, I'm pathetic, he thought.

The folded note was covered in black and red ink; it was probably torn from an old assignment. He carefully unfolded the note while watching Slughorn like a hawk. He brought it up to his book when Slughorn, in his pacing lecture, turned his back on Severus.

Severus, the note read. I'm sorry. I really don't know what the boys are planning. They were just gloating over how clever they were and how they were going to make 'ickle Snivellus cry.' God I hate that name. I wish I could tell you more. Just watch your back, and be safe. ~L.

He snorted softly. "Be safe." Yeah, right, not with those four out to get me and the Headmaster in their corner.

It was the next day just before Double Charms when everything came to a head. Severus had just walked into the classroom when he found Potter and Black already at their desks, wands crossed, chanting under their breath. Before he could react, to draw his wand or escape, they finished their chant and pulled their wands apart. There was a loud snap like a New Year's cracker, and a werewolf appeared before them with madness in its eyes and saliva dripping from its teeth.

Severus threw himself out of its way, falling over desks and chairs. He heard the sharp clatter of wood on stone but was far more concerned with the werewolf's rumbling growl, and the claws raking lines of fire across his chest, and the smell of the rancid breath across his cheek, and the teeth sinking into his throat.

"Finite incantatum," Flitwick's voice cut sharply across the room and the werewolf was gone, So was the pain and the wounds, but not his sobbing, gasping cries. Potter and Black were laughing uproariously. Severus took a few ragged breaths and assessed the damage. He had a cracked elbow and bruised hip from falling over the desks, and pain was blooming at the base of his skull though he didn't remember hitting his head at all. He could hear Flitwick scolding the two Gryffindors.

"We didn't know he was there Professor," Potter said. "We were just making sure we had our compound illusion down for class today."

"Did you see the way he went arse over teakettle," Black snickered. "Good thing he finally bought some trousers, eh?"

Severus flushed. The last time he went "arse over teakettle," as Black so eloquently put it, had given him the impetus to make his own money, since his parents weren't going to buy him anything beyond the minimal robes required. Hogwarts had a policy of approved uniform or nothing under the standard black robes during the weekdays and it was the only thing he could do, or risk further abject humiliation. At first it hadn't been so bad; plenty of Pure-bloods went without even those with money. So it actually helped him fit in with Slytherin house, a little, until Potter used that damn spell.

"Five points from Gryffindor for inattention. Another five for harming another student, perhaps you should go to the Hospital Wing, Mr. Snape," Flitwick said. Severus nodded and left, on the way out the door he caught Flitwick saying in a low voice. "Fifteen points to Gryffindor, though, for a very impressive illusion."

Of course, Severus snarled to himself as he limped away from the Charms class.

"Oh, my God! Sev, what happened?" Lily. Perfect, he thought with a bad taste souring his mouth.

"What do you think," he snapped at her.

"Here let me help you." She shifted her bag and lifted his arm across her shoulders.

"Don't… don't touch me!" He pushed her away harshly sending her stumbling a few steps back, other students swirled and eddied around them. He looked away, but didn't move. He didn't want her to see him limping, again.

"Sev, I…" The bell rang and the halls emptied.

"Go on, you'll be late," he said. Out the corner of his eye he saw her red hair bob in a nod and she took a step past him. "Hey, Lily."

"Yeah?" she paused.

"They… could you…" he stumbled over his words. "Could you see that they don't get to keep those fifteen points?"

"Fifteen?" she shrieked. He could hear the steel in her voice and he smiled. "And then some… fifteen points my Aunt Sadie."

After that he almost regretted going to the Hospital Wing. He would have loved to see what Lily was planning to do, she was brilliant when on a tear, but he has some planning of his own to do. This would be the perfect first run for his new toy. Using the Time-Turner he could go back in time to disrupt Black and Potter before they finished casting the illusion, and maybe throw in a little bit of revenge for good measure. His lips turned up in a grin, oh yes, this was perfect. He could just go back to lunch hour right before Double Charms and hide in the classroom, then hex those two fucktards when they weren't looking. Although, Flitwick had come in pretty quick when Black and Potter released their illusion, so he probably wouldn't get away with it. Not mention that Severus wouldn't get fifteen points for giving them the hexing they deserved. No the trick was to not get caught. He knew exactly where Black and Potter would be sitting to cast the spell so he could anchor a couple of latent hexes at that location to be triggered by the spell casting. The trouble with that plan is that it would take more then just the hour lunch to lay in the spells and make sure that it would be triggered by only Black and Potter.

Severus fished out Flitwick's office hours to see when the classroom would be free. He had… here three turns would get him in during the last quarter of first period; one more hour would bring him to the beginning of first period. Best of all if someone found him there he could just say that he was looking to ask Flitwick a question about the day's assignment. He put the parchment away, shouldered his bag, and drew out the silver Time-Turner from under his shirt. It was warm from his body heat, and felt almost alive in his hands. He carefully counted out four turns…the world twisted… and everything went black.

He sat perfectly still in the darkness. He could feel the same soft blanket and stiffly starched sheets under his questing fingers, so he was probably still in the Hospital Wing. Two trips and he remained in the exact same place both times. The Time-Turner apparently couldn't move you an inch spatially. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of a loud snort beside him that finally subsided into soft snoring. The Hospital Wing had been completely empty a few minutes ago…four hours before his present, but it should not be this dark at nine in the morning. Gradually his eyes adjusted to the faint light from the windows and Severus eased himself off the bed. He had been lucky the sleeper had been assigned the bed next to him rather then this one. He'd have been splinched otherwise, or if the bed had been moved, or any other myriad of small changes. Note to self: keep in unused or out of the way places when using the Time-Turner.

Creeping out of the Hospital Wing, Severus was careful not to wake anyone but panic was starting to cloud his thinking. Why was it so dark? What time was it really? Time, time, clock! The entrance hall had a clock above the house point hourglasses; it was the master for marking the start and end of classes. His feet were off and running before his brain even sent the message. He clattered down several flights of stairs… why was the Hospital Wing on the third floor? Sooner then he expected he was skidding to a halt on the first landing, tripping over the last stair as it moved out from under him and sent him sprawling across the flagstone floor. Frantically clutching his bag to his chest he struggled to his knees, ignoring the ache in the one.

The large clock was back lit with a soft golden light that moved and shifted like liquid, a subtle effect that he had never noticed during the day. The large wrought iron hand with a stylized gold "H" was on "Middle of the Night" and making its slow measured way to "God-awful Early in the Morning." The Time-Turner was supposed to send him back first period, not the middle of the bleeding night! Then he had a horrible thought, what if it wasn't this morning but the day before. Or further…when was the Hospital Wing on the third floor, anyways? He needed a calendar. He needed to know what the date was… periodicals had dates, the library. He staggered to his feet and started up the new staircase that just attached to his landing, hoping that the library was still on the fourth floor. He didn't know what he would do if it was.

He tore up the stairs as fast as he could reasonably go; it was amazing what adrenaline did for pain management. A thought struck him like lighting stopping him dead in his tracks. Professors! Whenever he was Hogwarts was in session… there was a student in the Hospital Wing, so of course Hogwarts was in session, and the professors would be making nightly rounds. Running around willy-nilly wouldn't do a damn thing but get him caught. Damn it, Snape! You're a Slytherin…think like one, he scolded himself. He forced himself to stay still and catch his breath. When the sound of his own gasping no longer masked the steady click of the Hall clock's hand he cast a quick silencing spell on his shoes and started back up the stairs, listening intently for the sound of footsteps.

The library was still on the fourth floor. Severus restrained the urge to run to the periodicals, he'd made enough of a fool of himself for one… day? With shaking hands, he pulled the slatted rod holding the Library's copy of the most recent Daily Prophet. A soft lumos and he scanned the front page of the newspaper. Tuesday, September 10, 1996.