Chapter Text
"You're old!"
The horrified exclamation escaped Severus before he could censor it as soon as Lupin walked into the room, and he stared at Lupin, momentarily stunned by the changes. At last, he shook himself out of his stupor and rallied. "Grey hair doesn't prove anything. I can name three different potions and charms that would make him look older." He glared suspiciously at McGonagall, who had returned with Lupin. "This could still be a trick."
He'd been dubious ever since he woke up in the hospital wing with Pomfrey clucking over him. The last thing he remembered was packing his trunk because the Leaving Feast was that night, and he was ready to get the hell out of Hogwarts as soon as possible. He remembered being elated by the thought of never returning to Hogwarts again; once he received his NEWT scores, he could start looking for a job, or maybe he would take Regulus' advice and join the Death Eaters. The Blacks had said Regulus could join as soon as he turned seventeen, and he'd been wheedling Severus to join up with him for months, pointing out that Lord Voldemort would appreciate Severus' skills more than anyone here ever had. If Voldemort rose to power, things would change, and maybe even Hogwarts would change. Maybe Dumbledore would be kicked out, and there would be no more favoring of the Golden Gryffindors while the Slytherins were overlooked. Regulus said Voldemort himself was rumored to have been a Slytherin, which had made Severus gloat to think of. Regulus wasn't the only one, either; many of Severus' other friends were planning to join Voldemort, too, and he suspected some of them had done it already.
He remembered clearing out the last drawer and kicking it shut, happy to put this school and almost everyone in it behind him. He'd been stifled here in more ways than one, and he knew there was a place for him in the world beyond Hogwarts, somewhere he truly belonged with people who would respect and value him rather than bully and belittle him. He just had to find it, and he thought Voldemort's organization was a good place to start looking.
He remembered closing his trunk, and then... nothing. Not until he awoke to Pomfrey and McGonagall trying to convince him it was 1998, which had to be a trick, although he'd always thought the teachers were above all that, especially that starchy old bitch, McGonagall, who walked around like she had a stick up her arse all the time. He guessed she hated him and the rest of the Slytherins just as much as anyone else did if she was willing to go along with one of Potter and Black's pranks, though, and he'd known it was a hoax as soon as she said she would prove it by bringing Lupin to visit him.
As if Lupin wasn't Potter and Black's pet wolf. Or maybe wolf skin rug was more like it, considering how much Lupin let them walk all over him. McGonagall had tipped her hand by bringing Lupin into this, and Severus had known he was being tricked from that moment on. Still, if Black and Potter had done something to him, he wanted proof he could take to someone with power. Someone who would do something about it. Someone like Voldemort. So he stayed on that narrow bed with his arms folded and his mind churning, and he waited until she brought Lupin in to see him.
"It isn't a trick, Severus." Lupin's voice was deeper and huskier, and Severus felt a little tingle of awareness at the sound of it, a tingle he viciously suppressed. "I really am older. Thirty-eight, to be exact."
Severus couldn't keep his eyes from widening at that, and he sat up straight as he peered at Lupin. Thirty-eight was ancient! "That's impossible!" he protested. "If you're really that old, how am I still eighteen?"
"I'd like an explanation for that myself," Lupin said, giving McGonagall a pointed look. "When you said Severus had returned to adolescence, I didn't think you meant it quite so literally."
"Oh, yes, I did." McGonagall looked grim as she moved to stand beside Severus' bed and reached out as if to touch him, although she obviously thought better of it and let her hand fall to her side again.
"It's a prank," Severus insisted, looking back and forth between them. "It has to be. He and his friends did something to me!" he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Lupin, who merely shook his head.
"It is not a prank." McGonagall's voice was stern enough to make Severus settle down and lean against the thin pillow at his back in a huff, and she peered at him over the top of her spectacles for a moment longer before clearing her throat and beginning to speak again. "I'm afraid you have twenty years of history to catch up on, Severus," she said, clasping her hands neatly. "I promise, everything will be explained to you in detail later, but I need Remus to understand what has happened, which means I cannot answer all of your questions right now." She gave Severus one last quelling look before turning her attention to Lupin.
"Before he died, Albus devised a means of keeping Severus safe should You-Know-Who-"
"Voldemort," Lupin interrupted pleasantly.
"Voldemort," she repeated, pursing her lips and giving him a reproachful look for the correction, although Severus didn't understand why it was such a big deal to say the man's name.
"Wait, Dumbledore is dead?" he interrupted, shocked but not terribly saddened by that revelation. "What happened to the old bastard?"
"I told you everything will be explained later," McGonagall replied, an icy edge in her voice, but then, she'd always acted like the old goat was Merlin's gift to the wizarding world. Maybe she had the hots for him, Severus thought with vicious glee.
"At any rate," she continued as if she hadn't been interrupted, "Albus wanted to keep Severus safe should Voldemort discover that he was our spy, thus the three of us worked together to create an artifact - a pendant, in this case - that would activate automatically if Severus' vital signs dropped below a certain level. Once activated, it was meant to put Severus in a state of hibernation, and he would remain that way until revived and healed."
"But the pendant didn't work exactly as planned," Lupin said, and McGonagall nodded.
"Instead of freezing him in time, it made him regress," she admitted, her lips thinning with annoyance. "By the time we found him in the Shrieking Shack and I could adjust the spell work, he had already lost twenty years. We're fortunate it worked as slowly as it did, or we might have ended up with an infant on our hands."
McGonagall and Lupin looked at him, then, with expressions that seemed to say the thought of a baby Snape horrified them both equally, and he glared back at them.
"At any rate," McGonagall continued, "I informed Poppy, and we decided to bring him here rather than take him to St. Mungo's, because there would be too many questions, and he has not yet been cleared of the charges of murder and treason. Poppy was needed to care for the injured after the battle, and so we kept him in stasis until she had time to heal him. When we revived him at last, we discovered he has no memory of the past twenty years. His mind regressed along with his body, and he believes he is eighteen years old, and this is the year 1978."
Folding his arms across his chest, Severus sneered at them both. "You hand me that load of shit and expect me to believe this isn't a trick?"
"I will deal with you shortly, Mr. Snape!" McGonagall snapped, fixing him with the kind of look he was familiar with from Transfiguration class. "Now kindly sit there and be quiet, or I will give you a detention despite you having left school two decades ago!"
Severus reared back, his eyes growing wide, but he shut his mouth with a snap and said nothing; he still didn't believe either of them, but he didn't want to risk her dragging him back to this hellhole to serve some stupid detention when he was supposed to be long gone. Nodding with satisfaction, she turned back to Lupin.
"This is all very interesting," Lupin said, inclining his head slightly. "But I fail to see what it has to do with me."
"You are the only one who is - was - close to Severus in age," she said wearily. "He remembers some of his former teachers, of course, but you are the only one he knew on a personal level at that age. Everyone else is..." She glanced at Severus, sympathy flashing in her green eyes. "Gone."
"Or too young for Severus to remember them, I suppose," Lupin added, and Severus bristled, quickly growing tired of being spoken of like he wasn't even in the room. But part of him was fascinated despite himself, and so he continued to listen, curious to find out how detailed their plot was.
"Kingsley has stepped in as acting Minister of Magic," she continued, "but it may be a while before he manages to repeal the werewolf anti-employment laws. I do not mean to sound callous in saying this, but you have time to help Severus adjust, and he knows you already. You may serve as a familiar touchstone while he acclimates to his new situation. If you had custody of Teddy, I would not ask, but..."
"But I don't," Lupin supplied, and she nodded sympathetically while Severus' scowl deepened. He had never heard half these names before, and a tiny niggle of doubt was starting to form in the back of his mind.
"As I said, you have the free time at present, and I'm certain a stipend could be arranged," she offered, but Lupin shook his head.
"There isn't any need. As Tonks' widower, I receive a pension from the Ministry. It's enough to live on, especially since I'm hardly a stranger to frugality." He glanced at Severus, who bristled at the sight of sympathy in Lupin's eyes. "I don't need a bribe to convince me to help Severus. I'm willing to do it."
"Who says I want your help?" Severus snapped, fixing Lupin with a baleful glare. "I haven't seen anything to convince me either of you are telling the truth."
Minerva rounded on him, obviously intending to rap out a stinging retort or perhaps a reprimand for his language, but Lupin waved and shook his head. "You're right," he said easily. "All you've seen is Hogwarts, which is hasn't changed much since we were students. Let me take you outside these walls, and I'll show you how the world has changed." He glanced at McGonagall questioningly. "Assuming he's well enough to leave?"
"He is, yes," she replied tersely. "I would avoid taking him to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley unless you introduce him under a different name. I've no idea how to explain what happened to him, and as I said, he is still wanted. If the Ministry found out he's alive, they would take him to Azkaban, regressed or not."
"Azkaban?" Severus stared at her, horrified. "Why would they take me to Azkaban? I've done nothing wrong!"
"Nothing that you remember." Lupin sighed and rubbed his forehead. "It's a long story, one I'll tell you later. For now, let's take a little field trip, shall we?"
"Where are we going?" Severus asked dubiously, making no move to rise.
"I'll let you decide that." Lupin beckoned to Severus as he headed for the door. "That way, you'll know it isn't a ruse."
"An excellent idea," McGonagall said, giving him a look of approval. "Meanwhile, I will pack Severus' personal belongings and see if I can find a photograph or two anywhere. That might help. Everything should be ready to go when you return. Regretfully, he cannot remain here indefinitely, but perhaps he could stay with you until we make some other arrangements?" she asked, and Lupin nodded.
"Certainly," he replied. "I've been looking for a smaller, less expensive flat, but I can remain in Tonks' flat for a while longer." He turned to Severus, who still hadn't stood up, and gave him a challenging look. "Shall we?" he asked, a hint of a challenge in his voice, which Severus couldn't resist.
Trick or not, he wasn't about to let Lupin get the best of him, and he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Yeah, I'll go with you." He grabbed his shoes and put them on, and then he tipped his chin up defiantly as he stood and followed Lupin out of the infirmary. "We'll play your stupid game a while longer."
They walked along the familiar stone corridors in silence. Severus barely took in his surroundings; he'd just spent the better part of seven years here, and the place had lost its novelty and allure for him long ago, but Lupin looked around with something that seemed to be wistfulness. It was a good act, Severus admitted grudgingly.
"Assuming any of this is true... when did the old bugger finally snuff it?" Severus asked casually, although he was burning to know the answer. He'd spent more time than he cared to think about trying to earn the bastard's approval by excelling in his studied, but all the recognition and praise had gone to Dumbledore's pet Gryffindors. He'd finally realized the futility of it when Dumbledore had protected Black and Lupin even after they'd tried to kill him. That had sent a clear message: a Slytherin's life wasn't as important as a Gryffindor's. Being a half-blood meant Severus hadn't been good enough for his grandfather, and being a Slytherin meant he hadn't been good enough for Dumbledore.
"About two years ago," Lupin replied, although he didn't offer any further details, much to Severus' annoyance, and Severus refused to give Dumbledore more attention than he was worth by asking. Besides, asking would mean he'd accepted the ruse, and he wasn't going to give the Gryffindors another laugh at his expense.
Lupin walked along with his hands in the pockets of a ratty, shapeless cardy, his expression calm; if he felt any guilt over the trick he was playing, he didn't show it, but then again, none of them had ever felt guilty over what they'd done to Severus, just as Severus had never felt guilty over anything he'd done in retaliation. If he could have done worse, he would have without a qualm. He hated Black and Potter, and Lupin was their pet, a muzzled monster who was worth nothing more than Severus' contempt.
As they neared the entrance hall, Severus noticed signs of spell damage, mostly in the form of tell-tale scorch marks marring the stones, and he frowned. Why would there be spell damage? Was this part of the trick, or had something happened while he was unconscious? Finally, he blurted out the question, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.
"What happened?" He pointed to the charred frame of a nearby portrait. "That wasn't damaged the last time I saw it."
"There was a battle here about three weeks ago," Lupin replied quietly, averting his gaze from the burned portrait. "That was when you were injured."
"Oh, that's your story." Severus didn't bother keeping the scorn out of his voice. "You've gone to great lengths to convince me. I'm impressed."
Lupin pressed his lips together as if in disapproval, and he shook his head, but "you'll see" was all he said. It was infuriating that they were persisting with this stupid game, one last pathetic attempt to pull one over on ol' Snivellus, as if Severus would fall for it if they just kept forcing it on him, but for now, he had no choice but to play along. He would prove them wrong soon enough, and then they'd see their prank had backfired on them.
Once they passed through the gate under the watchful eyes of the stone boars, Severus stopped and faced Lupin. "We can go anywhere, right?"
"Right. You can even Apparate us, just so you know I haven't directed you anywhere," Lupin said, and Severus nodded with satisfaction as he drew his wand.
"Fine." He grimaced as Lupin moved closer and grasped his elbow, not wanting Lupin to touch him, but it was a necessary evil, and he wasn't about to give up the sight of Lupin's disappointment when Severus proved this was nothing but a hoax. With a loud crack of displaced air, they disappeared, and when they reappeared in the narrow alley near his favorite music shop, Severus looked around, expecting to see everything looking just as it had at Christmas. He'd decided against going home; that would be the obvious choice, and they might have tampered with it somehow, perhaps with a glamour, but they couldn't have anticipated him choosing to visit the music shop.
A car zoomed past on the street beyond the alley, and Severus watched it pass with a frown. The design was a strange one, unlike anything he'd seen before. In fact, there seemed to be more traffic than he remembered, and none of the cars looked right, but he walked out of the alley with his shoulders squared and his head held high. Just because he didn't know how they'd done it didn't mean there wasn't a rational explanation that had nothing to do with him having regressed twenty years.
The shop was just around the corner, and he quickened his step - only to stop short as soon as he barged through the door and saw nothing familiar. The shop was still there, and it still sold music, but the faded posters advertising the Beatles and The Rolling Stones that had hung on the dingy walls since Severus was a boy were gone, replaced by glossy posters of people Severus had never heard of, like Celine Dion and Robbie Williams. A sullen young man with dyed black hair, two rings on his left eyebrow, and one ring in his right nostril stood behind the till, and over the speakers, some painfully earnest woman was singing about her heart going on.
"What the fuck is all this?" Severus demanded, whirling to face Lupin. He made a sweeping gesture to encompass the rearranged shelves, where not a single album was to be seen, only plastic cases wrapped in cellophane.
Lupin gazed back at him somberly, a flash of sympathy in his eyes that set Severus' teeth on edge. "Those are CDs. Compact discs, which are what music is recorded on these days. The bands have changed, too, or at least most of them have." Lupin's voice was gentle. "The world has moved forward, Severus, even if you don't remember it."
"No." Severus scowled and shook his head, refusing to accept Lupin's words, and he prowled restlessly down one aisle, flipping through the strange little cases at random. "This is... I don't know what it is." He whirled on Lupin again, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. "I don't recognize any of these. Where are The Sex Pistols albums? What about The Clash or The Ramones? I suppose you're going to tell me they don't even exist!"
Instead of answering aloud, Lupin moved to one of the bins and pulled out a plastic case, holding it up for Severus to see. The artwork on the cover was familiar - four long haired, denim-and-black-leather clad young men under the word "RAMONES" - the same that was on the record album Severus owned, only smaller. "They exist, but not on LPs any more. These are more durable and take up less space, and the sound quality is better, too."
Severus snatched the thing out of Lupin's hand and peered suspiciously at it. The cover was right, and he flipped it over to see a track list on the back. The song titles were the same, offering a familiar touchstone in the midst of this madness, and he found himself curious to see what was on the inside of the case.
Then it hit him. There was no way the Gryffindors could have predicted he would want to see the music shop, which meant they couldn't have orchestrated all these changes. Besides, he knew Potter and Black weren't nearly clever enough to think up a hoax this elaborate, not down to creating 'CDs' and strange new cars, and deep down, he knew they couldn't have coerced McGonagall and Pomfrey to participate in a prank.
But if he believed all that, it meant twenty years had gone by, and it was more comforting to believe all this was a joke than to accept the fact that the entire world had changed, and he'd missed all of it somehow.
"No!" He shoved the case roughly into Lupin's hands and stormed out of the shop. Home was only a short distance away, and he wanted to see Mum. She would tell him the truth! She would help him sort out this farce, and then everything would be all right again.
"Severus, wait!" Lupin called out, and Severus heard the bell over the door ringing violently and Lupin's footsteps hurrying after him. Lupin caught up, and Severus thought for a moment that Lupin was actually going to touch him, but then Lupin's hand fell back to his side. "It's all new to you, I know, but you aren't alone. Minerva and I will help you catch up and adjust to your new environment," Lupin said, his tone obviously meant to be comforting. "You've received a chance most people would kill for, you know. The chance to start over."
Severus stopped walking and turned on Lupin, fury rising hot and fast within him. "I don't want to start over! I want my life back!"
Lupin didn't retreat from Severus' anger. "I'm afraid that's the one thing you can't have, Severus. I know it won't be easy for you to accept, but I haven't lied to you and I won't start now. The life you knew doesn't exist any longer, but in its place, you have the opportunity to avoid a great many painful mistakes."
Severus shook his head vehemently, refusing to listen to anything else. "Shut up, Lupin, and leave me alone," he snarled, and then he pivoted on his heel and stalked away, determined to go home and talk to someone he trusted, not people who had made his life miserable for seven long years.
"I can't leave you alone," Lupin said, jogging up beside Severus once again, although Severus could hear Lupin's breathing was growing labored as he tried to keep up with Severus. "And I do want to help you." From the corner of his eye, he saw Lupin glance around. "Where are we going now?"
Annoyed anew that Lupin seemed insistent on following, Severus quickened his pace even more. "None of your fucking business," he snarled.
There was no mistaking Lupin's long-suffering sigh, but unfortunately, the man didn't have the wit to bugger off as Severus wanted. Instead Lupin stayed doggedly at his heels, as though determined to keep up no matter how fast Severus moved. Despite Lupin's persistence, Severus didn't slacken his pace, and while he seemed intent on his destination, part of him was cataloguing all the differences he saw along the way. This house was more run-down, that house had a fresh coat of paint and the garden had been tended, shops stood empty or had changed from a bakery to a chemist's. Fortunately, things hadn't changed so much that he couldn't find his way home, and he arrived at Spinner's End with a growing sense of relief.
The house - their house - looked much the same, and he could tell by looking that it hadn't been abandoned. He raced up the steps and opened the front door with a muttered "alohomora", and he burst inside, looking around with frantic desperation.
"Mum?" He darted into the lounge, stopping short and staring at the room with a puzzled frown. Where was her chair? Her sewing basket? "Mum, where are you?"
There were footsteps in the corridor behind him, then they stopped, and Lupin spoke. "This was your house, I assume?" Again Lupin had that sympathetic tone, as though he actually cared about how Severus felt.
"That should be obvious even to you," Severus snapped, glaring at Lupin over his shoulder, and then he resumed his perusal of the room, which was familiar, yet strikingly different.
Other than his mother's chair being gone, the furniture was the same as it had always been, but the wallpaper he'd always hated was obscured by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that covered most of the wall space. Every shelf was crammed full of books and journals, and he recognized the subjects as being of interest to him, which meant they probably belonged to him. Or rather, to his older self. But if he'd changed things, that could only mean...
"She's dead too, isn't she." His voice was flat, and he bowed his head, feeling the unexpected loss like a punch in the gut.
"I don't know for certain," Lupin said softly. "I've never heard anything about your family, not even during the year we both taught at Hogwarts. Minerva might know, though. Or perhaps there is something among your papers."
Without a word, Severus whirled and ran out of the room, and he raced upstairs to his mother's bedroom. He flung open the door and peered inside, hopeful for any sign of her presence, any sign that would negate his suspicions, but instead of seeing her bed with the fussy flowered bedspread and her dressing table with the silver brush and comb set he'd given her for Christmas two years ago, he saw more shelves lining the walls, these filled with countless bottles and jars, and along one wall was a worktable with a cauldron set up on top and brewing utensils lined up neatly beside it.
"You are - were - one of the finest potion brewers in the country." Again Lupin was close behind, the fucking idiot not seeming to get the message that Severus didn't want him hanging around. "I'm sure she would have been proud of you for that."
Severus stared sightlessly at all the stuff, things that he could believe belonged to him but that he didn't recognize. Things that ought not be there at all. There was no way he would have changed her room, though, unless she was no longer there. He was alone, his immediate family all dead.
"So what?" His voice was ragged, and it cracked, but he was too upset to care. "She's dead!" He whirled and faced Lupin again, his chest constricted with tight, hard knots of pain, and he dealt with it the only way he knew how. "My mother is dead, and I wasn't with her! I don't know how or when it happened. I missed my own mother's death, and I'm meant to care whether she was proud of me?"
Lupin's expression was somber, and again he lifted his hand as though he wanted to touch Severus, but he didn't quite complete the motion. "Given how much you cared about her, I'm certain you were with her, if you could have been. You didn't miss it; you simply don't remember it anymore, and it isn't your fault! We can find out what happened, if that will help you. I know this must hurt, and I'm sorry for that, but don't add unnecessary guilt to your grief. As for the other... I imagine you care a great deal about how she felt about you, or this wouldn't be so difficult for you."
"Who else?" Severus didn't want to talk about his mother or how difficult this was or was not, not with Lupin. He wasn't about to discuss his feelings with one of those who had tormented him all through school. Lupin might not have been an active participant like Black and Potter, but he had no doubt Lupin had helped with the planning, and Lupin had certainly never done anything to stop them. And now Lupin wanted to act like he cared? "McGonagall said you're the only one left, so who else is 'gone'?"
A flash of pain shone in Lupin's eyes, and for a moment, Severus thought he might refuse to answer. Then Lupin averted his gaze. "Almost our whole class - our whole generation," he replied, his voice low and husky. "Sirius, James, Peter. Not that you care about them, I know. Wilkes and Rosier died in the first war. Avery is in Azkaban, last I heard. Regulus Black died in the first war, too, after he turned against Voldemort."
"Regulus..." Severus swayed backwards and grabbed the edge of the worktable to keep himself upright, feeling as if he'd been hammered again at the news that his friends were dead or in prison, but his heart wrenched the most at hearing of Regulus' death. He'd trusted Regulus more than he trusted any of his other friends, and he'd cared for Regulus far more than for any of the rest as well. He snapped his head up as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "What about Lily? You didn't mention her. Does that mean she's still alive, at least?"
Lupin hesitated, and then he looked up at Severus with reluctance. "No. Lily died, too, on the same night as James. Voldemort was intent on murdering their son, because of a prophecy that predicted Voldemort's destruction at the hands of someone born at the end of July. They went into hiding, but they were betrayed, and Voldemort tracked them down. Lily sacrificed herself to save her child, and I don't think you ever forgave him for that."
"She married Potter?" Severus stared at him in abject horror, sickened by everything he was hearing. "They had a child, and she died because of it? No... No! It can't be true! She can't be dead, not because of him. She deserved better!"
Something in Lupin's face hardened, the gentle sympathy in his expression fading. "She died because of Voldemort," he said sternly. "James didn't kill her. Voldemort did. James loved her and tried to protect her. So did Sirius, and so did I. She did deserve better, but what she got was a friend who betrayed her and sold her and her family out to Voldemort to increase his standing in the Death Eaters. Don't ever say James caused her death, because he died for her!"
Severus clutched the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white, the implications of Lupin's words sinking in, but he couldn't bear to believe what Lupin implied was true. "A friend betrayed her," he repeated. "Not me." He shook his head vehemently, refusing to accept the possibility even though the description seemed to fit. "You can't mean me. I wouldn't betray her, even if she was fucking stupid enough to get caught up in Potter's lies and couldn't see what he really was anymore. I wouldn't!"
Lupin continued to look at him with that implacable expression, but then it softened a little. "You gave Voldemort the prophecy, but you didn't know who it referred to. There were two children who fit the conditions. I often think you were so horrified by what happened, it turned you against Voldemort and drove you to Albus, who made you his spy." A shudder wracked Lupin's slender frame, and his face suddenly showed every one of its nearly forty years. "You contributed, but it was Peter who actually sold them to Voldemort. He even managed to frame Sirius for killing James, Lily, and Peter himself before escaping. In that one night, I lost every friend I'd ever had, so trust me when I say I understand exactly what you're going through."
Severus didn't care what Lupin had or hadn't felt; he barely even heard what Lupin had said. His mind was buzzing with static, unable to process everything he'd learned. Practically everyone he knew was dead, and he'd learned about it in the space of a few minutes rather than spacing it out over a lifetime; it scarcely even seemed real, but he knew it was. This was no prank or hoax. He had lost twenty years. He had lost everything.
He groped in his back pocket, his fingers shaking as he sought the package of Silk Cuts that ought to be there, but he came up empty. McGonagall had probably confiscated them, or maybe his older self had quit, although that seemed unlikely. Then again, everything he'd learned since waking up seemed unlikely.
"Fuck," he muttered, pushing his fingers through his hair. What the bloody hell was he meant to do now? No family, no friends, no nothing, and twenty years behind everyone else in the whole bloody world. He'd never been the most optimistic person at the best of times, but now, his outlook was bleaker than it had ever seemed before in his life. Shocked beyond speech or thought, he sagged against the edge of the table and stared at the floor, unable to make himself move.
Lupin moved closer and rested his hand lightly on Severus' shoulder. "If you've learned enough for now, why don't we go back to Hogwarts?" Lupin asked, and the gentle, soothing tone was back in his voice. "You're in shock, and you need time to take everything in. I know you probably hate the place, but it's at least familiar, and maybe Minerva and I can help you sort things out. It's safer for you there at the moment."
Lupin's words penetrated the haze in Severus' mind, and he roused himself enough to shake his head. "I don't want to go back there." To him, Hogwarts had become the place where almost everything bad in his life had originated, and he never wanted to step foot on the grounds again.
"All right." Lupin hesitated, and then he tightened his grip on Severus' shoulder. "I'll take you to Ton - to my flat," he said as he drew his wand.
There was the familiar crack of displaced air, and then they were standing in a different room, this one a complete antithesis of the house they'd just left. The decor was bright and cheerful, and it gave him the impression that someone young and female lived there, not an old, poor werewolf. He didn't bother scrutinizing his new surroundings, however ; he didn't care where he was as long as it wasn't Hogwarts or that empty house where all the evidence of his mother's life had been erased. He wanted nothing more than to hole up somewhere and shut out the rest of the world for a while, but he didn't have anywhere safe to go, and so he stood there, at a loss.
Lupin nudged him toward the sofa and gently urged him to sit down. "Tea, I think, and something to eat." Lupin patted his shoulder briefly before moving away from him at last. "It's normal to be in shock after all that's happened to you. Trust me on this one. I'll make the tea and be right back."
With that, Lupin left him alone in the unfamiliar room to wait for tea he didn't even want; part of him wanted to rage and rail and spit defiance because he could bloody well take care of himself, but the greater part of him was too battered to shout. As little as he wanted to admit it, he needed a guiding hand, and at the moment, Lupin was all he had. And that thought depressed him even more.
Within a few minutes, Lupin returned bearing a tray with a steaming pot of tea, two cups, and a plate of biscuits. He bent down and placed it on the table in front the sofa, and he poured a cup of tea for them both. "One lump for you, if I recall correctly," Lupin said, dropping a lump of sugar into one of the cups and stirring it carefully. He held out the cup to Severus with a small, encouraging smile. "The English cure-all, you know. Perhaps it's cliché, but it does seem to help."
Severus took the cup mechanically and held it; the steam rose up and filled his nose with a familiar, comforting scent that made his throat close up. It wasn't fair! He'd longed to escape from Hogwarts and everyone there who tormented him, and now that he had, his entire life had been turned upside-down. He stared into the depths of the cup without seeing it, and he fervently wished he would wake up from this nightmare or that something would happen to make all of this go away and take him back to that afternoon before the leaving feast.
Lupin took a seat in a squashy chair set at a right angle from the sofa, and he remained quiet for several long moments as though waiting to see what Severus would do. He sipped at his tea, and after a while, he began to speak quietly. "I know it can't be easy for you to hear all your friends are gone. You've also had to hear about things you did that I'm sure are disturbing, but I want you to know, Severus, that you are - were - a good man. A very good man. Your life had more hardship in it than anyone deserved, but you were a survivor, and you lived your life on your own terms as much as you could. You bore up under pressures that would have destroyed a lesser man, and I always admired you for it. I respected you more than you knew, and even though we weren't friends, I would have been happy to be yours, if you'd ever wanted that."
Lupin's words sank in gradually and roused Severus from his torpor enough shoot a baleful look at him. "Right. You respected me so fucking much that you allowed your friends to do whatever they wanted, and you didn't lift a finger to stop them even though you should have. You even helped them plan their so-called pranks!"
Lupin fell quiet, and he searched Severus' face somberly. "You're right, I should have," he said at last. "Over the years, I've often wondered if my own inaction influenced your decision to join the Death Eaters and helped set in motion the events that followed after. I have no excuse for my behavior, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for failing you and for failing myself. All I will say in my defense is that I didn't know what Sirius planned to do that night in the Shack, or I would have stopped him. I've never turned anyone, and I never will. Sirius used me as badly as he used you on that occasion, because if I had bitten or killed you, I would have been put to death."
Severus sneered, although he didn't refute Lupin's claim; he had studied Dark creatures in enough depth to know the laws constraining them, and he knew Lupin was right: the penalty for a werewolf harming a human was high. The laws hadn't been quite so stringent until the last ten years or so - or what Severus thought of as the last ten years. He'd read articles in the paper warning people about a rogue werewolf who seemed to live to kill and turn people, and the Ministry had been unable to catch him. If the reports were to be believed, this Fenrir was allegedly responsible for creating most of the werewolves in Great Britain, and his behavior was making things difficult for the rest of his kind.
As little as he wanted to admit it, Severus felt a bit of grudging sympathy for Lupin. He knew how it felt to be betrayed by a friend, which was what Lily had done in choosing Potter and his merry band of sodding bastards over him. In the end, she'd proved to be more shallow than he thought, choosing a glittery facade that hid a rotten core over the loyalty Severus would have offered her. But no, Severus was different. Ugly and poor and interested in the wrong things.
He tightened his fingers around the cup and shot a defiant glare at Lupin. "I knew about you, you know," he said, tilting his chin up haughtily. He didn't want to feel sympathy for Lupin; he wanted to feel like he had some control over his own life, even if it meant getting the upper hand somehow. "Even before Black tried to kill me."
Lupin blinked at that, and then he chuckled ruefully. "Somehow, I'm not surprised. You've always been too clever by half." He paused, studying Severus as if considering something. "If you knew, then why did you go to the Shack that night? You must have known what you would find when you got there."
Severus scowled and turned his glare back to his cup. "I was curious," he said in a low, grudging voice. "I wanted to see a transformed werewolf for myself and find out if the books were right. I thought I could handle it. I thought..." He trailed off and gave a one-shouldered shrug, not wanting to admit he'd been more terrified than he'd imagined he would be, but the books never mentioned the horrific reality of having a huge, snarling, slavering beast lunging at your throat.
"That was incredibly risky for both of us," Lupin said, frowning in obvious disapproval. "You shouldn't have gone in without protection."
"I had my wand," Severus replied, aggrieved. "If that was enough protection for your friends, it should've been enough for me!"
Lupin hesitated briefly before responding. "They were Animagi. I never told them I was a werewolf; they figured it out on their own, and they spent two years learning to transform for my sake. Werewolves don't attack animals, so they were able to enter the Shack without endangering themselves."
"Oh." On the one hand, Severus was mollified to learn that pack of idiots hadn't managed to protect themselves against a transformed werewolf with their wands alone when he hadn't been able to; on the other, he was annoyed to learn they'd mastered a branch of magic that he hadn't, even that fawning idiot Pettigrew. "Still, it wasn't as if it was a surprise. I'd known for ages what you are. I could have got you expelled," he said, feeling anger surging anew. "But I didn't because I thought Dumbledore would protect you, and I was right. He would never have let anything happen to his precious Gryffindors."
"Yes, Albus protected me." There was a huskiness to Lupin's voice, and he lowered his gaze to his lap. "Albus is one of the few people who ever gave me a chance. Oh, Sirius and James accepted me, but that was partly because they were young and thought it was cool to have a werewolf as a friend. But Albus didn't protect me simply because I was a Gryffindor. He protected you, too, you know. After you turned against Voldemort, he went before the Wizengamot to keep you out of Azkaban, claiming you were working for him all along. Albus certainly wasn't perfect, but he did his best. In the end, he used both of us along with many others to achieve his goals. I think if he had one major failing, it was that sometimes in his obsession with the big picture, he neglected to see the individuals involved."
"Unless they were Gryffindors," Severus muttered, unwilling to accept that he had been so stupid as to go back to Dumbledore and to Hogwarts as an adult. He'd had such high hopes for his life! But it sounded as if he'd remained trapped at the very place with the very people he hated most, unable to escape no matter what.
Overwhelmed, he put the cup of cold tea aside and buried his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do or where to go, and he had no one to turn to for help, solace, or advice. Well, no one he wanted to turn to, no one he trusted enough to admit how lost he felt. He was alone, and he had no idea what to do with his life now.
Abruptly, he recalled something McGonagall had said, and he snapped his head up. "Didn't McGonagall say I'd be sent to Azkaban if anyone found out I'm still alive?" he demanded.
An expression of discomfort crossed Lupin's face, and Severus had the distinct impression Lupin wasn't eager to discuss this particular topic. Then Lupin drew in a deep breath. "Yes, but it's... complicated," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "When the second war began, you went back to spying for the Order of the Phoenix - Albus' name for those of us who worked for him to defeat Voldemort - as a Death Eater. Things are never clear cut in situations like that, you understand, and loyalties are always suspect. You... murdered Albus. It shocked everyone, and I don't think anyone other than Minerva knew Albus had made you promise to do it. It was part of his plan to have Voldemort accept your loyalty without question, and Albus was dying anyway." Grief, brief and intense, haunted Lupin's expression. "There hasn't been time for your name to be cleared yet, although Kingsley Shacklebolt working on it. He was in the Order with both of us, and he's now acting Minister of Magic, so he knows the full story. It may take more time, but when it does happen, everyone will know you were a hero. The war would not have been won without you."
Severus recoiled, shocked and horrified. He'd murdered Dumbledore? How much blood did he have on his hands? Wasn't Lily's death enough? He wondered how all his hopes for a better, happier life had gone so horribly wrong.
"It doesn't sound heroic to me," he said, his voice a harsh croak that was almost unrecognizable to his own ears. "It sounds hellish."
"That, too." Lupin didn't dispute Severus' words. "War isn't quick, clean, or easy, and heroism is rarely a cut and dried issue. It's much easier for those on the outside looking in to make judgment calls than it is for those who lived through it. But I believe you were a hero. So does Minerva, and so does Kingsley, and others, too, who know what really happened. In taking responsibility Albus' death upon yourself, you saved the life of the young man Voldemort had ordered to do the deed, a young Slytherin of whom, from all signs, you were very fond. If Draco Malfoy had killed Albus, he'd have been sent to Azkaban. Now he has a chance at a life without the stain of murder on his soul. But you have a chance for life again too, Severus. You've lost a great deal, but you have a chance to build a new life for yourself, a better life than the one you lived the first time around."
For Severus, it didn't feel much like an opportunity; it felt overwhelming, like he was being crushed under the weight of a life he didn't remember. Clenching his fists, he shook his head. "No. No. I don't want this. I want my life. I don't want to be punished for things I didn't do or have to deal with - with this!" He made a sweeping gesture to encompass everything Lupin had told him. "It's too much, and I don't want any of it!" He shot Lupin an accusatory glare. "Why can't they undo it?"
"I know you don't want it," Lupin said quietly, but his tone, while sympathetic, wasn't appeasing. "I don't know if it can be undone or not. That's something that you'll have to discuss with Minerva, but I suspect if there was a way to reverse it, she would have done so already, rather than putting you through this. Despite what you might think of her, Minerva is fond of you, and you seemed to tolerate her better than you did most people. But do you honestly want it undone? If that happened, you'd be back to where you were before. This isn't easy, but if you stop and think, Severus, perhaps you'd see you can remake your life into anything you want." Lupin regarded him with something like wistfulness. "If I were in your shoes, I'd want to take what I had learned about my mistakes and find a way to make my life better than it had been."
Severus scowled and pressed his lips in a tight, thin line, refusing to say more. Lupin didn't understand; the cheerful optimism and platitudes were exactly what Severus expected from a Gryffindor, especially since the whole lot of them had the emotional range of a gnat.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he said in a low voice. He'd had all he could take for the time being, and if Lupin tried to point out the bright side one more time, hexes would fly.
For a moment, it seemed Lupin might protest, but then he simply nodded and stood. "I'll show you to a bedroom you can use. It's not much, but it'll have to do. While you rest, I'll ask Minerva if she's finished packing your things yet. Perhaps having something familiar will help you to adjust."
At the moment, Severus didn't care where he was as long as it wasn't Hogwarts, and he stood up as well and folded his arms, staring sullenly at Lupin. "Fine," he said in a grudging tone, refusing to be gracious even though he knew Lupin could just as easily kick him out to fend for himself.
Lupin didn't comment on Severus' sullenness; instead, he beckoned for Severus to follow him down a short corridor. He pointed to a door on the right. "That's the loo. Towels are in the cupboard, toiletries as well." Then he reached out and opened a door on the left. "You can use this room. I'll get clean linens for the bed and change it, or you can do it if you'd prefer." Lupin pointed at a door further down the corridor. "That's where I sleep, if you need me for any reason."
"I doubt it." Severus mustered a sneer despite his emotional overload. "Just give me the linens and leave me the fuck alone, Lupin."
In the narrow space of the corridor, Lupin drew himself upright and squared his shoulders, his eyes flashing. "Listen to me, Severus Snape. I sympathize with you, and I want to help you, but I expect you to be civil while you're here. I'm not saying you can't disagree with me or get angry with me, but given I have done nothing but offer support and civility to you, I expect you to make at least a minimal effort, which includes not cursing at me in my own home. I am not the young man you remember from Hogwarts, and while I am happy to be your sounding board, under no circumstances will I be your whipping boy. You're an adult, so I bloody well expect you to act like one, whether you like me or not."
Severus reared back, shocked by the unexpected display of backbone from Lupin of all people, and he drew himself upright. "You sound like a mother," he spat, and then he spun on his heel, stormed into the bedroom, and slammed the door behind him.
Once the door was closed safely behind him, he threw himself on the bed and released a shuddery sigh, his body going limp; his armor crumbled as the weight of everything he'd learned that day crashed down, and he buried his face in the crook of his elbow, willing himself not to cry despite the burning and prickling of his eyelids. He wasn't Snivellus anymore, damn it, and he wouldn't let this break him, not after everything else had failed, including his grandfather.
The memory of that old bastard hardened his resolve; he'd survived Grandfather Prince, and he would survive this. Somehow. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he would figure it out. Right now, he just wanted to forget everything for a while, and he reached out to snag a bare pillow and drag it under his head. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.