Severus raised his chin and scowled at the women, aware the effect was completely negated since it was on Tim’s face. He turned away sharply, feeling ridiculous that he stood in front of these women in the guise of a child. More, he wondered whether it was healthy for Ginny to hear the things that he might say out of her adopted son’s mouth.

He turned to Phoebe. “Do you think it would be detrimental to cast an illusion to give me a more appropriate appearance?”

The dark skinned woman’s eyebrows knitted in thought. “I think it would probably help us along with this discussion, actually. Why don’t you do it?”

“You don’t think that it will be a problem if he uses Tim’s magic?” Asked Ginny, worriedly.

“I think Tim’s magic will be fine with it,” Phoebe said.

Severus nodded. He waved his wand to invoke a standard glamour spell. It was a two way illusion. It gave him the illusion of feeling as well as looking taller. “That’s better.”

Ginny stared, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. Both her hands covered her mouth as she no doubt relived some of the things that he had made her believe happened in his office. “Professor Snape.”

He crossed his arms again and sneered. He wanted to say something witty and cutting, but he realized he had a fine line to walk. If Ginny forgot for one second that he still borrowed Tim’s body and magic, she could harm the boy in a fit of rage. He wouldn’t blame the woman for wanting to strike him dead, after what she must believe he had done to her. Her unsavory memories of an older boy provided the material. He’d simply put himself in the memory. While it was unfortunate that she had those experiences, at least he hadn’t had to create a whole new set of trauma.

 “Professor...” Tears started down the woman’s cheeks. She swiped them away impatiently. “I can’t believe it.” She looked at the mind healer. “What do we do now?”

Severus jumped in before Phoebe could answer, “I don’t deny you are owed some retribution.” He said sharply. “But, I caution you to remember that I still inhabit the child’s body.”

Confusion furrowed her brow. “Retribution? For saving me from the Carrows? For feeding Neville your potion so he didn’t end up gibbering in the corner like his parents? For making sure Luna didn’t die in the Malfoy dungeon?”

He ground his teeth together. He refused to be a party to this revision of history. “I will remind you that I raped you.”

She rocked back as though he had slapped her. Breathing hard, Severus waited. Surely this Phoebe woman would banish him now.

 “I don’t want revenge, Professor.” Ginny’s voice was very soft and it held an incongruous note of...affection? “I remember what went on in your office. You never touched me. Those memories you created? They weren’t drawn from reality at all.” A brittle smile crossed her lips. “Professor. Those memories were dreams Tom Riddle left in my head. None of it actually happened.”

That never occurred to him. The prospect of actually following through on the act had sickened him. He would have done it, if he’d had to, but first he legilimized her for a frightening memory with sexual content.  He thought Christmas had come early when he found her memory of an older boy with a Slytherin tie molesting her. Numerous times. He simply inserted himself into the scenario instead of the unfamiliar boy.

The fact that he didn’t recognize the face didn’t worry him. Most six or seventh years were capable of changing their appearance to avoid prosecution. Especially given the creativity of her assailant. It had worried him that it apparently happened when Dumbledore ran the school

A sick fantasy implanted by the Horcrux diary would explain that. It also explained why her magic didn’t even try to rise up in her defense. At the time he’d assumed it was simply despair.

“Sure of that, are you?” It was a weak retort, but he didn’t have anything else to say. He wanted it to be true. One less horrible thing to carry around with him. He had to poke at it, test it, see if it held up. “Perhaps I implanted that idea.”

“No.” Phoebe said, softly. “I was one of the mind healers brought in during that trial. We discovered the tampering. Plus, the testimony of the healers that no such injury had ever actually been done to Ginny pretty much proved that you were protecting her.”

“How was the tampering discovered?”

“Professor.” Ginny’s brittle smile turned into an equally brittle laugh. “That diary...Riddle got so far into my head...Nothing you did could permanently change those memories. Not unless you spent the better part of a year legilimizing me all day, every day.”

That never occurred to him.

“I knew for certain the memory was false when you took me to Poppy that first time.”

 No wonder she stared at him during meals. No wonder she didn’t protest more when he “invited” her to his office, which he did whenever she looked too ill from the attentions of the Carrows.

“I could never understand it. Not until the war was over.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “It was too late to thank you.”

He turned away from the weeping woman. He didn’t know what to say, although he was relieved she had cleared his name. Of that crime, at least.

“Professor?” Ginny said when she calmed a bit. “I’m sorry.”

What on earth for?

Before Severus could ask her what she meant, a voice called from downstairs. “Ginny? Phoebe? James said you wanted me back early.” Potter was home. He thumped up the stairs. Opened the door. “So what’s going…?” He stopped and his face turned ashen. He might have swayed on his feet.

 Severus said sharply, “Potter. Get hold of yourself.”

That seemed to snap him out of his shock. Without a word, he came in. Carefully shut the door behind him, sat down next to Ginny, reaching out for her hand while staring at Severus. Even though he was in his forties, sporting streaks of gray hair, his expression was that of an errant schoolboy who hadn’t read his chapters.

“What’s he doing here?” Potter asked, weakly, turning his gaze to Phoebe.

She smiled a little. “Maybe, you need to ask him.” She nodded her head at Severus.

Severus answered. “I really don’t know how I got to be here. My preference would be to be sent back as soon as possible.” He was very tired. He sat down in the unoccupied desk chair. “I don’t know how to accomplish that on my own. This,” he indicated his face, “is an illusion.”

“You’re Tim’s dark man.” Potter said. A statement, not a question.

“Well, he seems to think so. I think his mind is manufacturing this idea to protect him.”

Potter shook his head, slowly. “No.” He looked thunderstruck. “You...” His brows knitted. “No, never mind.”

“What? Out with it?” Severus snapped.

Phoebe cut them off. “I think we need to talk about the problem at hand.” She said briskly. “We need to find out what will satisfy the heart’s ease potion.”

“The what?” Potter turned his attention to Phoebe. “What’s this about heart’s ease?”

Phoebe sat down in the wing chair, picked up her coffee from the table and took a long drink. “Madame Pomphrey gave Professor Snape a dose of heart’s ease Christmas 1997. It brought him here. Probably because of his affinity to Tim. He won’t be able to return to his proper time until the spell is satisfied.”

“Wait. Where is Tim?”

It took a moment for Phoebe to catch Potter up on what had been going on in his absence.

“What will satisfy it?” Potter asked when she was done.

Phoebe looked down at her cup. “I don’t know. The potion is supposed to ease the taker’s pain.” She caught Severus’ eye, “Is there anything you can think of that might work, Professor?”

“To ease my pain?” He almost laughed. “I can’t think of a thing, short of sweet oblivion.”

“Professor Snape,” Potter leaned forward, his face intent. “Anything you want--anything I can give you-- is yours.”

Snape sighed, “Of course, Potter. I know you’ll do anything to save your son.” For some reason that simple fact seemed very sad to Severus. The body he was trapped in was still far more likely to be moved to tears than his own. At least, that’s what he told himself as he discovered he needed to brush wetness from his face. He hoped the illusion hid it.

Potter slowly shook his head, “I can’t even come close to imagining a way to pay you back for everything you’ve done for us.”

 “Done for you? Well, yes, I suppose protecting your wife...Well, the students I suppose.”

Potter cut him off, “You risked your life every day for us. You died saving us all. If it wasn’t for you, Voldemort wouldn’t have fallen.”

“What?”

“Your memories. If you hadn’t...Oh Merlin.” Potter stopped, comprehension suddenly lighting his eyes.  “Of course. That hasn’t happened to you, yet.” He turned to the two women. “Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?” Meeting Severus’ eyes, he asked, “That’s all right with you isn’t it?”

“Yes.” The fewer witnesses to this scene the better.

Ginny’s smile was understanding. Phoebe’s face held a little more concern, “You’ll call me if you need me.?”

“Yeah, thanks Phoebe.”

“Well, I think I’ll to see if Kreacher’s made more coffee.” She and Ginny left the room, leaving Potter and Severus staring at each other.

After an uncomfortably long silence, Potter said, “This is so strange. I feel like I’m beginning to get an idea of what’s happened here.”

“Is it something you’d like to share with the rest of the class then, Potter?”

Potter actually chuckled, as though he found Severus funny.  “I was just thinking, I had a lot of very strange dreams about you when Tim first came to live with us. It was one of the things that inspired me to go digging through your journals for the tears potion. You and Tim...since he came to live with us...There’s something about him that makes me think of you. Even Minerva and Poppy say the same.” He shook his head slowly, “But, I feel like there’s something I’m missing.”

Severus never had patience for people maundering. He stopped his pacing, leaned against the desk, half sitting on it. “I’m sure there are many things you’re missing, Potter. If you get near a point, make it.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You may ask. I don’t guarantee an answer.” Severus replied in a subdued voice.

“Why did you protect Alice?”

This sudden change of topic was disorienting. Potter was as disorganized as ever. Severus hesitated; it was a story he didn’t care to tell. However, there was no point in keeping secrets now. Not after he’d been dead for 25 years. “She was...” he searched for the word proper word, “she was kind to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was a school prefect. She had that much vaunted Gryffindor sense of fairness, but unlike others, she applied it to everybody, not just members of her own house. One of the reasons she was such a popular girl. She was one of those rare teenagers who was honestly nice.” Severus paced back and forth in front of the couch, as though in his classroom, lecturing. “When your father and his cohort would harass me, if she happened on it she would make them stop. There was one instance where she even spoke to McGonagall about it and those little toads got punished for once. I pay my debts.”

“So, you risk your life for years, to protect someone who was merely kind to you?” Potter’s face twisted as if he’d eaten something bitter, his gaze dropping to the floor. He went on, speaking more to himself than Severus. “Hell, she wasn’t even all that kind. She was just showing some basic human decency.” Potter focused his eyes on Severus. “You still have a chance to save yourself.”

“What?”

“You’re still alive in 1997. You don’t have to die in 1998. If you wanted, you could change everything”

“If I chose that, who knows what the world would look like?”

“But...don’t you want to live?”

Severus thought about that. Did he want to live? As far as he could see, there was no good outcome for him. If Voldemort won, he would eventually be found out. And if Potter’s side won? He’d be looking at a long trial, possibly time in Azkaban. That was a battle he didn’t want to fight.

“I don’t think I do.” He admitted, painfully. “I am...tired. Perhaps it’s best that I die. Allow my name to be consigned to a dusty shelf of history.”

Potter stood to face him. “No. I’ve spent the last 25 years making sure that your name is remembered as a hero for the light.”

“I don’t know what to say to that.” He took a deep breath and asked the question he’d been afraid to ask. “How do I die, Potter?”

“Voldemort kills you.”

“I was found out, then?”

“Ah.” The Auror crossed his arms, as though the tale chilled him. He spoke quietly. “No. He thought that the Elder Wand’s allegiance was to you, because you killed Dumbledore. He set Nagini on you. In the Shrieking Shack. I saw the whole thing.”

It struck Severus then, how old Potter had gotten. Every line on his face, every gray hair on the man’s head was well earned.

In the same quiet voice, Potter continued, “You gave me your memories.”

That startled Severus. “Why would I do that?” He demanded. “What memories? How would you even know what to do with them?”

“You gave me some of your memories of my mum. And then of Dumbledore telling you I had to die. So Voldemort could be killed. You left the Pensieve sitting on your desk.” Potter held his gaze without flinching. “As though you expected me to find it.”

“Pray tell, how did this help you?” With a sneer befitting such nonsense, Severus resumed his pacing.

“I knew I had to let Voldemort kill me. And he did.”

“Yet, here you are.”

A long sigh. Potter sat back down to put his elbows on his knees and rest his chin on his hands. “Voldemort tied us up magically. I didn’t die properly because of that. And then...” A pause. “Well, I’m pretty sure that he was so freaked out by my rising from the dead that he wasn’t really much use. I beat him in a duel.”

At seventeen Potter beat the Dark Lord in a duel? He had to be leaving something out. “When did all of this happen?”

“In May of ’98. I...uh...don’t know if I should be too specific...It might change things.”

“And yet, you tell me I don’t have to die.” Severus snorted at the illogic.

“Yeah. That does seem stupid. I just...” Potter stood again, to look him in the eye. “Professor? I have always wanted to tell you that the way Dumbledore treated you was wrong. He never looked after you when you were a student. He asked too much when you left Voldemort and held your mistakes over your head long after you had made amends. I’m sorry for that.” The man’s gaze drifted towards the floor, but then he squared his shoulders and returned his eyes to Severus’ face. “And, I’m really sorry I was such a rotten little tick. To you, I mean.”

“I...don’t know what to say to that.”

Potter nodded. “Yeah. I just wish there was a way to fix things. I wish there was a way I could make amends.”

“I am dead, Potter. I knew that as soon as I drank that potion. I am relieved this wasn’t some plot of the Dark Lord’s. I would be most distressed if harm came to Tim.”  In the back of his mind, Severus could feel Tim stirring.

“I am glad that you have stepped up to be the boy’s father. He needs that.” Again Severus was struck by Potter’s age. At least a decade older than Severus. The same age Severus’ father was when he had his heart attack. He never missed him much. Toby had more in common with Tim’s natural father than Potter. “I wish...” Severus trailed off and looked away, overcome with the sudden realization that a father had never appeared to rescue him. That Albus had been as bad as Toby in his own way.

“What?” Potter stood again, put his hand on Severus’ shoulder as easily as he did on Tim’s. “What do you wish?”

He bit his tongue before he could utter the sentimental foolishness that crossed his mind. He had less control over Tim’s emotionally charged body, which spilled tears down his cheeks and leaned into the comfort of the warm parental hand.

Severus finally had to wipe away the small torrent. Tactfully, Potter pulled back and averted his eyes while Severus turned away and pulled out a handkerchief to blow his nose.

Tucking it away, he sat down on the settee. “Finite.” He said, dispiritedly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Tim would wake up with a headache. Hopefully it wasn’t a complication of his healing concussion.

Fatigued as he had not felt since he had become a part of Tim’s body, Severus said, “Potter. I’m tired.” He tilted his head back to look up at carved wooden ceiling. “You and the mind healer need to sort out how to send me back to where I belong.” He closed Tim’s eyes. “I’m sure between the two of you, you can work it out.”