"What are you doing up here, Erik?" Albus asked when he found him on the astronomy tower.

Found was the right word in this instance, too.

It meant that this man: former boss, former coworker, current boss to the younger version of him, honourary uncle to his children, and lifelong friend was actually looking for him because he'd been rather discreet about coming up here tonight. He needed a bit of peace and quiet. Hell, it meant Albus knew he was at Hogwarts, because it was Easter holidays so there was nothing saying he wasn't at home.

He would be, but his wife was organizing this or that. He could have stayed home, but decided this would be a good opportunity.

He came up here because he wanted time.

Solitude.

He wanted to ensure what he was about to embark on was the correct thing to do. He imagined an argument could be made either way, and that some would say not doing it was better than doing it.

And yet, he didn't believe that was true.

Seventy years ago, plus one day to be technical, his life had taken a drastic turn initiated by this man standing behind him. A different version of him, for certain, but still him. He truly never believed in a million years that he'd be here today not regretting the decision. Or in Azkaban, for murdering his wife. Murdering Thomas Riddle was also a distinct possibility early on.

Forget the life she'd given him as his wife with their children. (And without them, for that matter.) He had a decent relationship with his mother. That was something seventy years ago he would have accused anyone even suggesting it was possible of being a mental ward escapee.

He was liked, respected, and cared for by many. He was not rich in friendships, but people seemed to accept his aloofness, and took what he was willing to give them. His wife had opened their home to Hogwarts' staff over the years for game nights. Neither were the type to host a ball. So, they'd come up with a different way to open their home after the first one had been … accepted.

A favourite had been in 1936, when King George VI took the throne. Everyone came dressed as their favorite royal person in history, non-fictional or fictional. Hermione had, of course, known he would become king in December of that year so sent the invitations stipulating the costumes ahead of time. The fact that it had "coincidentally" timed with a new king taking the throne just made people love the idea more. They'd also done some others that appealed to the masses: gangsters and flappers, famous dead people, wild west (that had been most amusing to the two of them, since most only knew the wild west from fiction books), a Mardi Gras night, a nautical themed one, and a Mexican fiesta. There'd been others.

His home had hosted these things. People had come and enjoyed themselves. Granted, it was her planning and everyone knew it, but they still treated him as the host. He still acted the role of host.

"Just thinking," he said.

"Oh?"

"It was last night," he said, glancing back at his long-time friend. Eighty-five years' worth between both timelines.

"I'm sorry?"

"Our excursion. The one that you initiated. It began last night. That's when we left Hogwarts. April 7, 1996. I hadn't even paid attention to the fact it was Easter Sunday when we left. Of course, I knew on a fundamental level, since Easter holidays had begun. It was just another day to me. Then."

Now, Easters were a family day, surrounded by hundreds. The little ones loved the egg hunts just as much as Thomas, Charlotte, Philip, Graham, and Willem had when they were little. (Though young Keith was a little upset that one of the searched-for eggs had been soiled by one of their collies. They'd allowed him to just say he'd spotted the egg and called it good.)

"I see," he said.

He'd known the dates. It had been in the previous version of Albus' letter to his younger self, but likely it had not been at the forefront in his mind for seventy years. He'd had a war to fight when they arrived in 1926, which was just as important as their assigned task. "Are you thinking good thoughts or bad?"

"Neither, really. Just how … different everything is."

"Ah, yes. Well, that was the goal, though you never told me."

"And you told me not to tell you."

"Yes, but you can't tell me anything after this date anyway."

"You are right," he said with a nod. "We did what we were sent to accomplish. That is all that you need to know, isn't it? Your plan worked. The world is, in fact, a better place for a great many people. A catastrophe was avoided. We had a houseful yesterday for Easter dinner. Marie ensured the Harrisons were there. She realized it was just as important to me as it was to her that all of our children be there this year. They likely think I'm being an eccentric old man, which is fine. Most importantly, they are all happy, well adjusted, and healthy productive members of muggle or wizarding society. People we know to have died are alive and thriving. People we know were alive but confined to St. Mungo's from torture are well and contributing to the world. The Harrisons, just by the way, not one of them completed their Hogwarts education the first go around. Cole, as you may remember, was in his second year when his father died in the line of duty and his mum chose to end her life as a result."

"I remember," Albus said.

"Well, the thing of it was, neither Marie nor I could recall Harrisons from either of our prior experiences at Hogwarts. There were twenty-five years between Cole leaving Hogwarts and my starting. Certainly a child of his should have been there shortly before or around me, assuming he only had one. And with as talented as Cole obviously was at the age of eleven, we were surprised that was true. He wasn't to Thomas' levels, you know that as well as I do, but he was more than just capable, considering he'd known nothing about magic before arriving at Hogwarts. So, we looked through some of the old books we have from then, and they quit. They were put into four separate muggle homes, and none ever pursued their magical abilities. Nor did any of their children. With what happened to both their parents, it's certainly not unfathomable to believe they just didn't think about magic when their children came. However, we see four people who our world was kept from, through no fault of their own originally, that are not only active but producing more magical children."

"I wondered why you took them on. One wasn't unheard of, but four on top of the four you already had."

"We had the space and the room in our lives for them," he shrugged. "Life is what it is."

"Do you include yourself amongst the people life is better for?"

"Yes," he said with a nod. "I can admit that."

Albus regarded him with his astute eyes, finally giving a nod in return. Apparently, believing Severus' answer to be the truth.

"So, seventy years then?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm glad that I've gotten to know you, Erik. If I haven't said so, you have been a good friend. A trusted friend. I have no idea what our relationship was previously, but I suspect it was … different based on your attitude toward me at times over the years."

That was an understatement. There were still times the old man frustrated him. Ironic, he still thought of him as an old man. When in actuality they were close to being the same age now.

"It was hard to reconcile at times, yes."

"Any plans for the evening?"

"No," he said with a shrug. "It's just another day."

Albus scoffed at that, and Erik knew why. If there was anyone who would remember what the date was and what it represented, it was Hermione Granger aka Marie Prins. They'd already talked about the significance of Sunday night to them that day. It was why she'd requested the Harrisons be at dinner. It was important for her, he knew, that he saw what they'd help do. And it wasn't just Thomas' life they changed.

"I do have something for you," Albus said.

"Oh?"

Albus stepped toward them, casting a notice-me-not, which made Severus grow very curious. There was no one here to see them do much of anything. His wife. The other Severus. Less than a handful of students stayed behind this year.

"This came to me, oh about thirty years ago. Before your younger self became a student. Do you recognize it?" This was asked about a locket.

"I have seen it before," he said, searching his mind for where. Who was to say. One hundred six years' worth of memories, made it difficult sometimes to pick something in particular out.

"Do the names Gaunt or Merope Riddle mean anything to you?"

"They do," he said. Severus knew by the tone of Albus' voice that his answer didn't surprise him.

"I thought they might, and I … kept it, waiting for you. For this date. A frequent customer of Borgin and Burkes willed this, and a cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, to Hogwarts. The last known documentation of the locket was back before the Depression. It came to them from a Merope Riddle, a poor and desperate witch whose father and brother were imprisoned in Azkaban. A sad situation, and I get the impression they did not give her nearly as much as they should have for the locket, not realizing how valuable it was."

"What happened to her?" Severus asked. He, of course, knew the answer.

"She died while delivering a child, the story goes."

"How tragic," Severus said. He should probably be sincere in that, but he really wasn't. The woman had ensnared a muggle. She was lucky she hadn't ended up in Azkaban herself.

"Yes, presumably the child died, though no one knows. Record keeping back then," he said with a shrug. "Assuming she was able to tell anyone where she'd left him."

Severus grew quiet then, pursing his lips a bit. So, Albus knew, and had known for years, who Thomas was. He'd never mentioned it, and could only presume by him casting the notice-me-not tonight, that he realized that the names Gaunt or Riddle should not be mentioned to anyone.

"Anyway, I thought at some point it should return to whence it came."

"Thank you. I will discuss with Marie what to do with it."

"I understand if you do nothing with it, Erik. I truly do, but as I said you're at a point you don't know what's going to happen from here. You should be in control of what happens to it rather than me. I sought you out tonight to return it to you."

"Thank you," he said with a nod, taking the locket.

He regarded it closely as a former Slytherin himself and the head of their house for many years. He expected to feel something , but really didn't. It was a locket that evidently belonged to his son. Records from the 1920s weren't always thorough, and he had been very exact with the memories he altered at the orphanage. So, there was no saying the information Albus found was accurate. Erik, of course, knew what happened to Merope Riddle nee Gaunt's baby. Evidently, Albus did, too. "I assure you that I did not…"

"No need to even finish that sentence. I know that you didn't. I wasn't accusing you of anything. Go see your wife, Erik."

"I will," he said.

He pocketed the locket, and left the astronomy tower then. He made his way to the dungeons with a sigh. He'd mentioned to Hermione the overwhelming feeling he'd had lately to tell his younger self.

He deserved to know. Marie agreed that was true. He'd hoped he would have come for Christmas and they could have … talked then. He didn't want to do it at Hogwarts. There was truly no guarantee of privacy, no matter what one thought. He and Hermione had only addressed themselves by their true given names early on in whispers, even in their own quarters.

He knocked, not surprised when his younger self bid him enter. He had nowhere to be for the Easter holidays so was here, grading papers. It was what he himself would have been doing seventy years ago.

If he hadn't been engaging in last minute things for a trip to 1926 anyway. Including tracking down his future wife's familiar. Who, interestingly enough, her  younger self was now in possession of a kitten that looked just like Crookshanks. She'd taken it to Hogwarts with her at Christmas. Marie had kept it behind from the litter of kittens intentionally, knowing that what drew her to Crookshanks would draw Hermione to this kitten.

"Erik," his younger self said. He was obviously a little surprised to see Erik in his office the day after Easter when classes were not in session. Marie didn't have much need to be here when students weren't studying. As it was, she took the time to tidy and ensure books were where they belonged.

"How are you this evening, Severus?"

"Well, and you?"

"The same. I was hoping I could tear you away from grading mediocre papers that won't be returned to the students for a week yet for the evening."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Some whiskey and cigars at my home?"

"I shouldn't…"

"It's not really a request this time, Severus."

He watched as his younger self sighed then, setting his quill down and putting the lid back on his jar of red ink.

"Very well."

He sounded so … resigned. As if he was being asked to do something unseemly.

He hoped this wasn't the wrong thing to do, but as Albus had pointed out. There was nothing more to alter. There was no more future he could mistakenly reveal to him. He needed his younger self to know, though. He sensed somehow that, while the events with Lily had played out differently than they originally had, his younger self was still stagnant. Eighteen years post-Hogwarts, and he honestly had no idea if his younger self did anything. He wanted better for him. He'd done this, in part to give him a chance to … do anything. He wanted him to live, and as evidenced by himself, thirty-six was not too late to start doing so. Maybe having him take his job at Hogwarts hadn't been the right move. Erik really couldn't say. He thought it was right at the time, and surely his path wouldn't have crossed with Hermione Granger's if he wasn't teaching here. He supposed, ultimately, even if he didn't realize it, that was the goal he was hoping to achieve.

They took the floo to his home and from there apparated outside of his lab. Severus let him in, ensuring his wards and everything were in place.

"Go on into my office, I'll be there in just a moment," he said.

His younger self had been to his lab more than once, so knew the way. Severus cast his patronus to let his wife know that he was at home with Severus. He was pretty sure his younger self saw the swan, which was fine.

Now.

He'd been careful not to cast one where he could see it before tonight. That would lead to questions that he wasn't in a position to answer.

Yet.

Now. Well.

"I have muggle beer if you prefer. I can get it from the house."

"Am I going to need the whiskey?"

"You might prefer it, yes," he said.

His younger self poured himself a glass of the whiskey then. He did the same.

He shut the door to the office, casting a silencing spell on the office.

"Those occlumency lessons I drummed into you as a student."

"Yeah? I remember." Times being what they were, he didn't have much need to occlude as severely as he had originally during this time.

"Good. They're going to be put to the test after tonight."

"Oh?"

Curiosity. He was wondering what his mentor had to tell him he'd have to hide.

Where to start. He supposed the beginning was the most logical beginning.

"My name is not really Erik Magnus Prins."

"Oh?" his younger self said again.

Amusement now.

"It was an identity created for me by Albus seventy years ago. My name is in reality Severus Tobias Snape. I was born January 7, 1960. My mother is Eileen Snape nee Prince, a pureblood witch. My father is Tobias Snape, who is a mean drunk of a mill-working muggle man."

"Funny. Really, Erik? You called me away for a joke?"

"My first go around, I didn't have someone come tell me to forget about Lily Evans. I grew increasingly infatuated with her, rather than seeing the signs that all she thought of me was as a friend. To the point one might say I was obsessed. She still took up with James Potter, but my experience at Hogwarts was vastly different from yours."

He took a sip of his whisky, clearing his throat softly as he thought over the differences that he knew about.

"There was a war going on, you see. A man was organizing purebloods, it was like a cult, for lack of a better description, and I don't really want to get too deeply into it beyond equating to what you can grasp. There was more to it than that, but you get the idea. He even employed Greyback. His inner circle of followers were called Death Eaters. They hated muggles. Many crimes were committed in the Dark Lord's name against them. I was among them. I didn't truly hate muggles. I knew many, as you do, who weren't bad at all. However, I was hated at school. I had no friends, Remus was in with Black and Potter. And Pettigrew. I was sorted into Slytherin. I wish I could tell you how I got sucked in. Why I allowed myself to become a part of them. I have no good or valid explanation. I was weak. I thought very highly of myself, my intelligence. I wanted the power that I knew magic could provide but Hogwarts seemed to skirt around. I was a fool, I can admit that now, and I have attempted to atone for my sins in many ways over the years."

He breathed deeply.

"This group the man organized were not … nice people to say the least. I know you are familiar with muggle history: Hitler, Mussilini, Stalin. They raped, murdered, and destroyed things in their path with no thought of anything but satisfying their blood lust. Muggles were inferior. Barbaric. Common. Simpletons. One day, our fifth year, after years of bullying and skirmishes back and forth, Black and Potter got the upper hand on me. I was hanging from a tree by my leg, depantsed essentially. Embarrassed. Lily helped me down, which infuriated me even more. Ninety years later, and I still have no idea why I reacted as violently as I did to my only friend attempting to … help me. I got defensive, called her a slur intended to insult muggleborns. Our friendship ended."

"Nice story, Erik."

"I'm not done, and you are not showing me the respect I deserve, nay have earned, from you over the years. I have never lied to you. Why do you think I wanted you to replace me? That was our original path, and I knew without having to act as a spy you could do the job well."

His younger self scoffed then.

"I will show you the rest. The man's name, by the way, that led the Death Eaters? The Dark Lord? It was Thomas. He was born December 31, 1926."

His younger self's eyes snapped up to meet his then. Severus smirked.

"Not so confident this is a ruse your mentor is trying to pull now, are you? As if I am a prankster normally."

He wasn't convinced either, though. Severus recognized the look in his younger self's eyes well enough.

"Ready?" he asked.

"No," he said, moving to stand and Severus prevented his younger self from doing so.

"You think that my life was nothing but teaching and dueling in confined, contained environments. I promise you there is far more to me than meets the eye, young man. I may be out of practice, but I can assure you I was recruited to these Death Eaters that I speak of for a reason. And it wasn't for my charming personality. You will sit, and you will listen to and see what I have to show you. You need to know."

Dark eyes assessed dark. He wondered if his younger self realized they were the same eyes. His were a little older, yes, but they were the same nonetheless. His mother recognized them. Surely, he would see similarities between them from twenty years ago. Assuming he recalled really. He wasn't sure he'd recall a professor's eyes from twenty years ago.

"Fine," he said, sounding petulant. So evidently he saw or realized something.

They both took their seats again, Severus allowing them a moment to get comfortable.

"Legilimenes," Severus called out as he met his younger self's gaze.

He pushed everything to him from his original timeline.

He wasn't … nice or gentle about it at first either. The shit still wanted to flee. Severus couldn't quite blame him.

All of it went to his younger self.

The good (very little of that) and the ugly (mostly all of it was that).

He showed him taking the Mark, hearing the prophecy, and the consequences that had. He showed him his years of spying, Dumbledore confident the Dark Lord, despite his apparent defeat resulting in James and Lily Potter's deaths, would return so Severus had to remain to appear loyal. He showed him young Harry Potter, coming to Hogwarts for the first time and how he and Hermione became friends.

His younger self gasped at seeing Hermione in the visions.

From the Dark Lord's defeat until 1991 had been rather dull, gradually increasing until Voldemort's return in 1995. Severus was somewhat ashamed he didn't have ten years of summer vacations or potions excursions to show his younger self. He'd been a miserable son of a bitch, and he lived as one. How pathetic he was. All because a witch had chosen someone else.

He couldn't believe how utterly stupid he had been his first thirty-six years.

He was rather ashamed, now, that he hadn't done something, anything, with those years the Dark Lord was absent. His younger self was on the same path, though, for no reason whatsoever, which was why he'd decided to take this route tonight. Severus Snape needed to live! He wasn't going to get thrust back into the past and given the opportunity to make a new life from that.

From 1991 to 1996, though, there was nothing dull about those years. For good measure, he showed him his robes being set on fire by his witch (something he'd suspected she'd been the cause of, but hadn't gotten confirmation of until years later) and her solving his riddle. He threw in her experience with polyjuice potion, as well as the first time Black's escape from Azkaban had been announced. He showed him "saving" the three friends from Lupin and the reveal that Pettigrew had been the Potters' betrayer, not Black. He'd really been there to catch Black and prove Lupin was in on it the whole time. (Something he'd confessed to his witch years later, and she laughed, as if she'd figured that on her own somehow.) The TriWizard Tournament, Hermione's first experience with Krum and the different dress she'd worn versus this timeline. Still lovely, though, and clearly impressing everyone there with how different she looked.

Finally, the 1995-96 school year, bleakness was the prevalent feeling going around the Order. Umbridge, and how bad things were getting at Hogwarts. The DA getting caught, Dumbledore's retreat until he could regroup and return.

And finally, the night of the offer to Hermione Granger, technically four days ago now.

He drew away from his mind for a moment.

"You okay?" he asked his younger self who was staring at him.

He hadn't tried to sever their connection since the first few minutes, so assumed he believed him now. He could feel him taking everything in. Feel him wasn't accurate, but it was the closest he could come to describing what it was like to be in someone else's mind as he had just been and pushing memories to them. It helped that he knew this man and his mind as well as he did.

"Severus, really, are you okay?"

"I am," he said finally. His voice sounded gruff, as if he was emotional. He likely was. Severus was, too, sharing all of these memories with him.

He didn't sound okay. Severus had to take his younger self at his word, though. They both took another sip of their whiskey, he was letting younger Severus catch up, process all that he'd just seen.

"You believe me now?"

"I am starting to."

"Good," he drawled. "Ready?" he asked and while his younger self swallowed visibly, clearly not sure if he was ready, but he nodded.

"And again. Legilimenes," he whispered.

The next part was not as taxing for him to show. The memories were much easier to think about because they were good.

He felt him chuckle at more than a few of the memories. His Dark Mark free arm was the first memory he shared. He was still astounded that had happened. That he'd been granted a completely blank slate, new lease on life. He had no idea if Albus suspected or knew it might happen. He'd never said.

Severus could feel the … admiration and fondness from his younger self as he shared excursions they'd taken throughout the years. And there were so very many of them that Severus couldn't possibly share them all.

Their relief at Myrtle making it out of Hogwarts alive. Hagrid had been let go without any pomp and circumstance because his wife was so very fond of the half giant. And, truly, he'd meant no actual harm by what he'd done.

The relief in the fact that Lily and James truly survived on that Halloween night his younger self had danced with his wife, that Harry had been raised by his parents and gained siblings. Neville Longbottom's parents were of sound mind, and young Longbottom was so much better for it. The sniveling, uncertain wizard never made an appearance at Hogwarts. In his place was a competent, cared for wizard. Susan Bones had her entire family. Molly Weasley nee Prewett had her twin brothers, and several nieces and nephews to keep her brood occupied.

It was essentially one hundred six years of memories jammed together for his viewing.

On and on it went, until they were here today. Seventy years plus one day from when he and Hermione Granger had commenced with Albus Dumbledore's hair brained scheme.

Finally, he pulled out of his younger self's mind and both were quiet. His younger self stared at him.

"Severus?" he asked.

"And the purpose in showing me … that?"

"Because you need to know," he said simply. "I've watched you for twenty-five years, believing that you are not good enough. That you do not deserve this or that. I have watched you do … nothing unless I essentially twist your arm. I wanted you to know that you are more than deserving. Only three people know what I showed you now. Albus only knows that we were sent. He doesn't know why, beyond knowing that Thomas is not truly ours. He knows who you and Hermione are, obviously."

"So, she is in actuality your wife."

"She is a … version of my wife, just as you are a version of me. We had similar experiences but not identical. As I said, and just showed you, your Hogwarts experience was … vastly different from mine. Obviously, I am not you, however, you now understand why I cautioned you away from Lily Evans. She was not the witch for you. I had years to come to that realization, and truly did not come to it for much longer than it should have, given how smart I like to think I am. I am glad that you were able to remain friends, even if the friendship is different than it originally was when you were children. I cautioned Stephen away from Hermione, too. They could not end up together."

His younger self was silent, eyes not hard but clearly taking things in.

"And your son is the Minister for Magic."

"He is. That was ultimately the point of our going back. It wasn't just to stop what you saw from happening, while obviously that was the priority. It was also to attempt to make him into a productive wizard for the side of good. He has done that and more."

"He has. And no signs?"

"No. Marie and I have looked. Obviously, we cannot watch him twenty-four hours a day as an adult, but there are no unexplained deaths happening regularly. Yesterday was the last day, there was nothing I could … alter or change any longer by telling you."

"The wolfsbane potion?"

"I had brewed it for Lupin originally, what would have been for you two school years ago."

"I see," he said.

"Does that bother you?"

"No," he said. "I imagine whoever originally came up with it might be bothered, but you helped my friend."

"I had a long conversation with Albus about that. Everything else that I have invented was my own. It may have been an improvement over something else, but the potion submitted as it was was my own. We agreed, though, that Lupin could benefit from it, as well as the student body."

"Right," he said. "Your expectations of me?"

Severus chuckled with a shake of his head. Of course he would think his older self expected something from him.

"None, Severus. Other than to have a good life, because I have worked hard to ensure that you could have that. And by good life, I mean live it. Don't hole yourself up behind the walls of Hogwarts until you have nothing left but wishes and dreams of what might have been. Well, and the obvious, don't tell anyone."

"What about her?"

"Mm, my wife is deciding the time to do that. Her age aside, my wife is concerned she may be upset that some of her Hogwarts experiences were so drastically altered. However, I firmly believe it was for the better. My wife advised her of everything I had mentioned to her over the years as to my observations of her as a student. She was … insufferable. And I say that with much affection. Now. She can still be insufferable and insolent. I know you have seen evidence of that yourself. However, she interfered with others learning, as I'm sure you recall. It took years for it to remotely improve without guidance. Perhaps I could have stepped in, but I was a little busy, and could not be seen helping a muggleborn witch."

"I see," his younger self said.

"For the record," Severus added. "It was my wife's idea, on her own, to encourage you to work with her. She thought it would help Hermione. As she knows herself best, and certainly knew herself at that age better than I ever did. I can only imagine she knew what she would respond to. She also believes because we are happy, that the two of you would be as well."

"You don't agree?"

"Well, obviously I have made a very fulfilling life with her by my side, so I would say yes. I have advised you as to my thoughts on letting her leave school without at least some attempt at friendship, so that she would want to see you outside of Hogwarts. Only if that is what you want, Severus. I do not expect you to do the same things I've done. From yesterday on that's virtually impossible anyway. Honestly, though, I truly cannot imagine finding anyone who would be more compatible with me. Could the same be said in reverse? I'm not sure, I'd like to say absolutely that is so. However, I look at Draco Malfoy and think, yes, he could be compatible. He was still raised, from my understanding, that muggleborns are lesser, maybe not undeserving, so I do not see that happening. He is the only wizard I have encountered to this point, in either timeline, that I could say would come close. She needs the intellectual. Are there wizards other than Draco who could provide that for her? There may be, I obviously haven't met every wizard in the world. Will she have the opportunity to meet them when she is employed? I would wager she will and, as I have said previously, if you don't give her a reason to think of you once she leaves school, she won't. Yes, we did many wonderful things over the years. You can, too. I want you to, but not the same things we've done."

"And you took in the Harrisons, but left me to the same fate you had at Spinner's End…"

Severus sighed heavily. This was the one aspect of things he suspected his younger self would bring up. Would dwell on. He couldn't blame him. He would have, too, at the age he was.

"You know very well that I couldn't interfere, Severus. You don't think I wanted to? That was not our assignment. You at least got your magical education. The Harrisons without our interference did not. However, our childhood helped make us who we are. I saw our mum when she was an eleven year old girl. I think if we did something to remove you from her care, it would have destroyed her. Believe it or not."

His younger self nodded a bit at that, as if processing that. He paused then to let him process what he'd said. He could admit to feeling some … guilt that he did nothing to make this wizard's childhood better. What could he have done? Where would he have stopped? Any alteration to either of their lives could have changed things. Severus needed to be at Hogwarts.

He took a sip of his drink, a memory occurring to him that he had not shared. "I have one more thing I'd like to share with you. Assuming you don't hate me. I understand, I do. I promise it's nothing upsetting. In fact, it was the first moment before even Tom arrived, looking back at it, that I realized I could love the witch."

"Sure," he said.

"Legilimenes," he whispered.

He pushed the memory to him of the homemade Scrabble board. Of him seeing her, bent over the table having no idea what she was up to, but being curious because he'd never had anyone give him anything before and she'd said it was a surprise. That bled into memories of a multitude of quiet evenings, spent playing cards or reading, or out on their patio quietly sitting together as they enjoyed what they had built together.

"I still have that board. I'm not sure she's aware, as clearly when Scrabble came out we purchased it. No one, not even our children, ever saw it. It was those times, though. My point in showing that to you. The adventures, the travels, the things. Those were great, and as someone who didn't have those things until meeting her - they were incredible, Severus. However, it was those small moments, those quiet moments reading together or just sitting together long before there was a thing called television that I wouldn't trade for anything. The dinners with our family, everyone together, because they want to be in the home they grew up in. That is so incredibly fulfilling. That they all these years later still want to be around us. That night was the first time I kissed her since Albus married us when we arrived, by the way. She kissed me once, the day we put our wedding rings on. As you saw she said she'd been waiting for me to. I had no idea," he shrugged. "I'm not sure I would have truthfully even if I had known. That board, though."

His younger self stared at him.

"I truly hadn't expected to fall in love with her. Come to tolerate? I thought that might happen, but I honestly do not know what I'd do without her anymore. And I fell in love with her before she did with me. Who knew?"

"And you don't regret it?"

"Loving her? No. I should have known before Marie told me that Hermione gave you that stick pin."

"Why?"

"Because, I reckon it was the first thoughtful gift you'd ever received. I should have known, but of course I wasn't teaching anymore, so didn't see either of you every day."

He cleared his throat.

"So, you have two years I guess to decide, Severus. You see what the possibility is."

"She has mentioned working at the Department of Mysteries."

"Really?"

Severus was surprised at this revelation. She had not mentioned this to Hermione that he was aware of. Had she and his wife hadn't told him? He didn't think so.

"Not the time room? Or the prophecy room?"

Both could potentially be … dangerous. Would there still a prophecy in existence regarding the Potters, he wondered? How would there be? And yet, he had no idea how it worked.

His younger self chuckled. "No. Love. Because of you two, actually. In part."

"Ah, that makes sense, and is ironic. Have you had her brew amortentia?"

"I have not."

"Mm," he said.

"Have you?" There was cheek in his younger self's question, but it was a valid question.

He chuckled. "Not recently, no. I'm not sure I wish to find out it is not me after all of this time."

Severus chuckled at that.

"You may want to, though, before she graduates. You do brew it for the Ministry, yes?"

"I do," he said. He assumed he did, because he had assured St. Mungo's that the quality would not change with Severus brewing their potions instead. He, truly, did not want the responsibility any longer. His apothecary was more specialized than that. He preferred it that way. "Did yours change?" he asked.

"It did," he said.

"Mine has not," he said softly.

"Well, we did not brew it together until your fifth or sixth year, if I recall correctly?"

Deliberately.

He had waited until he saw the signs he was well and truly over Lily before brewing it with him. He hadn't wanted to risk the younger version of himself digging in on his infatuation instead of continuing to move forward and away from the witch.

"Correct. Fifth."

"You were no longer infatuated with Lily by that point."

His eyes widened in response.

"I presume that is why it hasn't changed. Yours is likely still the same, because you have nothing to influence what you might smell. It is truly what might appeal to you. I would assume it is the same as mine is now, and has been for many years. I presume. If I understood exactly how it worked, I'd probably be a rich man." He shifted slightly, a thought occurring to him. He recalled Marie telling him that Severus' patronus was a swan. "Cast your patronus for me," he prompted.

His younger self scoffed. Severus wondered what that was about.

"Bloody thing. It's a good thing I didn't want to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts," he muttered.

He snorted at the irony of his younger self never wanting the bloody position that everyone assumed in his original timeline he had desperately wanted. His younger self took out his wand to cast the patronus as requested.

"Mm," was all he said.

The swan appeared as Severus knew it would.

"Why is that exactly?" he asked.

"It has never looked like that before," he said, standing now to look at his rather fine looking patronus.

"You haven't had many happy memories to call upon."

"I assure you that has not changed since last I cast it," he said. "It has always been … less than. I have always equated it to it not being finished."

"While not your memories specifically obviously, I have given you seventy years worth of memories that show that you might, in fact, be able to lead a happy life. I would say whatever completion you were waiting or looking for, it is done now."

He cast his own patronus then, and while his was perhaps a bit more real looking than his younger self's, little difference would be spotted between them.

"You brought me here because you do not trust anywhere else is private?"

"That is correct. I would assume after seventy years our home is safe, but I really do not know. Albus liked to know things, and he knew things he shouldn't have quite frequently. He was not as bad in this existence as he was initially, I will give him that. None of our elves have ever been in here, and other than you it's only been relatives. I do not believe they are spying on me."

"That day my mum came to Hogwarts?"

"I have no doubt she was there to see you, however, she had figured out who I was by then. She has to this point, that I know of, said nothing to anyone else. She was my student at Hogwarts, obviously, in the forties. I knew, eventually, she'd figure it out. The fact she did when you were twenty-six to my appearing to be in my forties when she was my student impressed me. I'd stopped taking the deaging potion by then completely. Anyway, she wanted to see the children," he said. "I told her of our tradition to sit by the lake the Saturday before the start of the school year. I told her if she wanted to see you, it would be a good time to do so as well. I assume she combined the two for fear you did not wish to see her. If you chose not to, she could use that as an excuse. I do not know how her mind works."

"Nor do I. Do you see her often?"

"No. She speaks with Marie more than me. By the age you are, I hadn't really spoken to her since I'd left Hogwarts."

"That has not changed."

"Have you talked to her since that day?"

"Some. She offered to give me their house if you recall."

"I do," he said with a nod. "I'm glad that you did not do that. I hated it, however, I went into it without expecting to live very long. You have a long life ahead of you."

"Thanks to you it seems like."

"Yes, well, I'd do it again, and if it brought you at all closer to our mother, then I'm glad. Having her as a student cast her in a different light. I do not think she was ever a happy person. I have never met any Prince relatives, but I suspect they are quite antiquated with their beliefs and hard-handed with their child-rearing."

"What do your kids think happened to your parents?"

He scoffed.

He still couldn't believe they'd gotten away with such a sillily, rather sloppily, concocted story for seventy years. "Fortunately, it was long before that internet Marie has been talking to me about. I recall it vaguely from my first experience in this time, but not enough to know anything about it. Our parents didn't get along, we fell in love, they did not approve because of our age difference, we eloped, we fled, they died in a boating accident, together," he shrugged.

"And if they ever do a background? Blood test?"

"Well, then we'd have a lot to explain, you and I both, wouldn't we," he said with a low chuckle. "Because it'd be you, too."

"I guess it would."

"We actually have a letter written. Now that you know, I'll likely give you a copy. When we do move on from this earth, well, then they can be told."

"And your oldest son's reaction?"

"He may react badly, however, the letter does not detail why we went back, merely that we were sent back to give him the life he hadn't experienced. And that we volunteered for the task. I would recommend not sharing those memories as to why with anyone, even our children, once the letter is out. He still has people who try to bring up the pureblood rhetoric. They wanted to fire Marie a while ago because she had muggle books in the library. I will leave a vial of memories, Marie and I are still sorting through those to be shown to Thomas, and only Thomas. I trust you'll know when to do that."

"There have always been muggle books in the library."

"Thank you," he said with a nod.

The door opened a short while later and his wife walked in, looking concerned.

"One cautionary tale, Severus," he said. "If you wish for even the idea of any privacy whatsoever, do not grant your wife carte blanche access to all of your wards."

His younger self snorted. "Hello, Marie."

"Hello, Severus. I didn't mean to interrupt. You said you were going home. I got home and you weren't there so I came to this house and you weren't here either."

"I apologize I was not more specific. I did not mean to worry you."

"I know," she said. "Did you get dinner?" she asked.

"I should get back," Severus said.

"Oh, no, please, Severus stay. Your grading can wait."

"And you knew I was grading how?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because you always grade the Monday after Easter so that you know how much time you have to brew for the rest of the holiday break. One night of dinner won't harm anything. We have plenty of Easter dinner leftovers. Come on," she said.

"I do not like to intrude."

"Erik, talk to him. Good grief, over twenty-five years we've asked him, you think by now he'd realize we want him here."

"You heard what she said, Severus. Best not argue with the witch. What is for dinner anyway, Dearest?"

"Well, as I said, there's plenty leftover from yesterday's feast so all of the ham and Easter dinner trimmings you could ask for."

"Excellent. Severus, join us so that I will get a quicker reprieve from leftovers."

"I accept."

"Good," Marie said with a sincere smile.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com