Disclaimer:Since this chapter puts us back into canon, the italics at the beginning are all from the books and belong to J.K. Rowling, with a few edits for the different POV.

~~~~SS~~~~

A thick red mist surrounded Severus in his dreams that night. Severus was oddly aware of his presence in the mist. As it separated, he could now see the scene in front of him, red mist only lingering along the edges, top, and bottom.

He looked around and saw he was in his potions classroom. In front of him was a class of first years, faces so eager he knew this had to be their first day. Sitting in front of him was eleven year old Harry. Severus realized he must be viewing a memory.

"Ah, Yes," he heard himself say softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Severus tossed and turned, feeling his anxiety start to rise. He always regretted how he had treated Harry in that first term. He didn't start really seeing Harry until the Christmas holiday break.

The red mist took over again and when it opened, Severus and Albus were standing at the Yule Ball

"Well?" murmured Albus.

"Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell." Severus looked sideways at Albus's profile. "Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."

"Does he?" said Albus softly, as Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies came giggling in from the grounds. "And are you tempted to join him?"

"No," said Severus, his black eyes on Fleur's and Roger's retreating figures. "I am not such a coward."

Watching the scene play out, the real Severus was extremely confused. That never happened, how could this be a memory?

This time the red mist came in quickly and exited just as fast and he was now standing in the hospital wing with Harry, looking about 15, laying on one of the beds clearly injured. In front of him was himself speaking to Albus again.

"Severus," said Albus, turning to the memory-Severus, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready. . . if you are prepared. . . "

"I am," said memory-Severus looking slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittering strangely.

Severus started thrashing around the bed, tangling himself up in the bedspread.

The mist returned and at this point Severus was getting angry. Something strange was definitely going on. When the mist opened, he was in his office with Harry who looked only slightly older than the last memory - he called them that only because he knew he couldn't be dreaming. A quick series of scenes flashed.

Harry was on his knees, his face buried in his hands as if his brain ached.

"Get up!" said memory-Severus sharply. "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort. You are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"

Then suddenly without leaving the office the scene slightly changed. It was still Harry and Severus, but clearly a different time frame.

"That is just as well, Potter," said memory-Severus coldly, "because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters."

"No-that's your job, isn't it?" Harry shot at him.

For a long moment they stared at each other and a curious, almost satisfied expression crossed memory-Severus's face when he answered.

"Yes, Potter," he said, his eyes glinting. "That is my job."

Now Severus was completely confused, Potter? he thought to himself, why did I call Harry "Potter"?

The mist completely covered and when it finally cleared, Severus was happy to see it thin out, almost completely gone. Hopefully this meant whatever he was stuck in was almost over.

Opening up, Severus found himself in an office he didn't recognize. The walls were coated in pink with pictures of cats covering them. The scene in front of him was more confusing than any of the others. A toad-like woman, dressed head to toe in pink, that he didn't recognize, was standing there talking with the memory-Severus as if she had some kind of authority over him. Around the room Harry's friends were being held by his own Slytherins.

And then out of almost nowhere, Harry spoke to the memory-Severus, "He's got Padfoot!" Harry shouted. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Memory-Severus had stopped with his hand on the door handle.

"Padfoot?" cried the toad-like woman, looking eagerly from Harry to memory-Severus. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Memory-Severus looked round at Harry. His face was inscrutable.

"I have no idea," said memory-Severus coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage... " And then everything went pitch black.

Severus jumped up out of bed so fast he nearly tumbled to the floor. Covered in sweat he tried to rationalize what he had just experienced. Those couldn't have been dreams, I took Dreamless Sleep last night. Maybe it was a bad batch he thought as he finally looked around at his surroundings.

How did I get to my bedroom?

He remembered falling asleep in Harry's bedroom, on top of his favorite green bedspread, and yet he was definitely now in his room, in his own bed.

Taking a breath to clear his mind, he got up and walked to his lavatory. Looking at himself in the mirror, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Doing a quick double take he looked down at his hands, yes something was different, his hands were trembling. It's probably just adrenaline from whatever that was last night, but again intuition took over and he knew it felt like the reaction to the Cruciatus curse. Tabling that thought in his mind, he continued on with getting ready for the day.

He was exiting the bedroom 45 minutes later in his casual attire feeling better now that he was more removed from the strange dream-memories. Unfortunately, that only lasted 15 seconds until he crossed the hallway towards the kitchen and noticed only 1 door on the left instead of the normal two. Anger flashed across his eyes when he realized the missing door was to Harry's room.

What the hell was Albus thinking?! Did he really remove Harry's room? Without at least consulting me first?

Fire burning in his mind and ready to have it out with the Headmaster first thing this morning, he continued into the sitting room towards the floo. Stopping dead in his tracks, he gasped as he looked around. There was the sofa, two arms chairs, and table where he remembered them, but instead of the comfortable worn sofa Harry had taken to sleeping on, there was a more modern one. On the coffee table, parchment was scattered as if he had been doing last minute marking for classes - in past years, as term was coming to an end, he preferred marking in the sitting room instead of his office. Would Slughorn really want him to start marking his end of year work? Even if he did, how would he have started already? He could clearly see his red handwriting on the top essay. The room looked as if he had left in a hurry whenever that was and it was definitely not the same room he was in the night previous.

The biggest change of all, and the one that finally removed his anger and replaced it with intense grief, was that every picture of Harry was missing. Falling to his knees yet again, he tried to imagine why this was happening. Feeling completely defeated, he sat on the floor trying to work through what had happened and how he could fix it.

After roughly 5 minutes on the floor, he determined he had to be asleep. There was no other way to explain everything that he'd seen that morning. Of course, everything felt far too real to be a dream, but that was the only logical explanation. Using the table to help himself stand up, he stopped immediately when he saw the date 19.06.96 That's impossible, he thought to himself. How could a whole month have passed without his knowledge? If it did somehow, because he didn't know what else to think, is that why all of Harry's things are gone? Had he packed them all away and reverted his quarters back to the pre-Harry configuration and not remembered?

Deciding he needed some answers, he got up and stormed to his door. Grabbing his robes, he thrust the door open and exited his quarters deciding that breakfast in the Great Hall was as good a place as any to start getting them.

Entering the Great Hall, everything looked and seemed normal. The hall was lively with student chatter as everyone was excited for the last week of term. Severus carefully took his seat to the right of Minerva who was in deep conversation with Albus. Not wanting to appear suspicious, he decided he needed to wait until their conversation was completed.

He was just about to serve himself some breakfast when he felt a tap on his right shoulder. Turning around, he saw Poppy waiting behind him with a phial of what he instantly recognized as Nerve Regenerative Potion.

"Oh Severus," she said, clicking her tongue. "I'm so glad to see you this morning! I expected you to stop by last night and was already worrying myself on what could have happened should you not be here this morning."

Severus noticed the worry in her eyes as she handed him the phial. "I can see you need this," she said looking down at his trembling hands. Leaning in she whispered, "I keep telling Albus that it's not worth it. Whatever you think you owe him, it's not worth what you have to go through." She squeezed his shoulder.

Severus rolled his eyes as his head started aching. Imagines of the Dark Lord flashed across his eyes and he was all of a sudden aware that the Dark Lord was angry with him about not being somewhere. That can't be right, the Dark Lord has not returned.

"Thank you Poppy," was all he could think to say.

"Oh Severus!" He heard Minerva say too loudly into his ear, clearly upset, and he had the sudden urge to ignore whatever it was she wanted to tell him. "It's unfortunate we have to have this conversation, but if you could please cease your antagonistic remarks to Mr. Potter, I would be much appreciative."

He jerked his head back as if he had just been slapped. Stop my what? Trying to keep his breathing normal he replied, "I assure you, I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"Don't give me that Severus. The poor boy has suffered enough, he doesn't need your apparent gloating on top of it," she huffed. "All I ask is that you hold any further remarks until next year. And yes, before you question me, I am assuming Mr. Potter will receive an Outstanding on his potion O.W.L. to make your class next year. His ambition is to be an Auror you know."

Now she had his full attention. There was so much wrong with her statements that he didn't know where to start. Why is she calling Harry "Mr. Potter" to him? All the professors called him "Harry" once Severus took over his guardianship and was responsible for his grades and disciplinary records.

Then there was the fact that Harry took his O.W.L.s last year and while it took a lot of extra studying on both their parts throughout the year, Harry had received an O mark on his potions exam and was in Severus's N.E.W.T. class, at least until it became too much for either of them to handle. And that all was, of course, ignoring the bigger issue that Harry had been buried 2 days ago... Or a month ago, depending on whatever Severus believed was going on.

As he was about to question Minerva about whatever nonsense she was rattling about, his eye caught sight of the Gryffindor table beyond her and he heard himself audibly gasp. Sitting at the table, alone and sullen, in his full Gryffindor uniform, was Harry.

He needed answers right now.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall alone in his thoughts. He didn't care what anyone else said, it was his fault Sirius died at the Department of Mysteries just like it was his fault his friends had been so badly injured. Adding the whole prophecy issue and he really just wanted to leave. Even being at the Dursley's would be better than the constant reminders Hogwarts gives him.

Pushing his breakfast around, he felt an elbow jab him in the ribs.

"What did ya do to Professor Snape?" Dean said warningly. " He's starin' at you like he's seen a ghost."

Harry looked up at the head table and sure enough Snape was staring right at him looking like he was about to storm over and strangle him.

"Does that really surprise you?" Harry commented nonchalantly. "I just breathe and he wants to kill me."

Looking back up, Snape was still staring at him, his face paler than normal, looking like Harry was a puzzle to be solved. As he saw Snape stand up, Harry collected his stuff determined to get out of there before his most hated professor could approach him.

Of course, Harry wasn't that lucky this morning and instead he heard, "Please stop by my office this morning Ha - Mr. Potter."

Harry looked up to see Snape eyeing him like he was planning which parts of Harry he could use as potions ingredients.

"Erm... I have History of Magic this morning," was the only thing Harry could think to say.

Anger flashed through Snape's black eyes as they peered into Harry's emerald ones. Harry gulped back his own anger and fear.

"I didn't ask what your first class was, I asked you to stop by my office," was all Snape said as he walked away.

"Rott'n luck," said Dean going back to his breakfast.

~~~~SS~~~~

A half hour later, Severus was sitting at his desk in his office trying to stay patient when it was obvious Harry ignored his request to meet him. Trying to sort through everything he knew, his headache growing by the second, he looked down at a set of exams on the desktop - specifically the date. Written in the corner was 17.06.96 which caused Severus to question what the actual date was today.

There was a knock on his door breaking his concentration.

"Come in," he demanded angrily assuming it was Harry finally deciding to show up.

Instead, it was one of his Slytherins who entered and cautiously said, "Sir, everyone is in the classroom and wondering if you were coming or not."

"Shit," Severus quietly swore. Clearly he'd seen all the kids wearing school robes at breakfast so it was a school day. "Class is cancelled today. As a 7th year at the end of term, if you haven't learned it by now there's no point in wasting anyone's time..."

He paused thinking really hard about whom he was talking to. This was Quintin Sarquell who would have graduated last year. Combining that with what Minerva said about Harry having just taken his O.W.L.s caused everything to start falling into place.

"What's the date today?" He asked with more panic in his voice than he'd hoped.

"Um... sir?" Quintin asked. "It's Monday June 24th."

"And the year?" Severus was getting impatient as the wheels in his head started turning. He'd gone back in time, that much was already obvious although he was embarrassed to admit it took this long to figure it out.

"Uh, 1996. Is everything ok sir?" He now sounded worried. "Do you need me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

"Not at all. You're dismissed and class is cancelled for today," Severus said with authority, then watched Quintin tentatively leave.

That solves one piece of the puzzle. Clearly the red potion did something.

He worked through in his head. But if it was June 24th, he already missed Harry's diagnosis and start of treatment since that had happened earlier in June.

Unless he hasn't been diagnosed yet he reasoned with himself as another thought crept into his mind.

Something was different with their relationship. He woke up this morning with no trace of Harry in his quarters like he'd expected to see. Minerva was colder with him regarding his interactions with Harry, and then there was Harry's response to seeing him at the Gryffindor table. Things weren't adding up. His stomach dropped as the final puzzle piece locked into place.

Unless... He said to himself as pain erupted through his head giving him all the missing memories from the past 5 years. Notably missing was the one where he discovered Harry's abuse from his relatives which had triggered him taking guardianship and the start of a completely different lifetime.

~~~~HP~~~~

"Did you guys hear the great news!" Ron exclaimed as he sat down next to Harry at lunch. " Snape cancelled all his classes today! We have a free double period this afternoon."

"That's concerning Ronald," Hermione lectured. "Professor Snape has never cancelled class before. Something pretty big must be going on." She sounded more concerned than Harry thought she ought to.

"Well, whatever it is that greasy git won't be getting any sympathy from me!" Ron said as he shoved a handful of crisps into his mouth.

Harry listened to them bicker back and forth just ready for the day and term to be over. Since the Department of Mysteries, he hadn't had the energy to care about much else besides leaving Hogwarts.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked while giving him a worried look. Since Sirius died, she'd been keeping a closer than normal eye on him.

"I'm fine Hermione, just haven't been sleeping well," he lied. The truth was, while he expected nightmares to keep him up, he'd been so fatigued he had no problem falling asleep and he actually was having no nightmares at all for the first time since the third task. Ironically, now the problem was that he wasn't waking up feeling rested.

Hermione eyed him carefully, keeping in mind the signs of depression she'd read about yesterday. "Why don't you take this afternoon to rest since we no longer have Potions."

Looking up from his still full plate, he saw Snape come into the Great Hall.

"You know what? That's a great idea Hermione," he said collecting his bag this time determined to leave before Snape could approach him. "I'll see you guys later."

He managed to get up and, walking briskly, left the Great Hall before Snape could catch up. Before the doors closed, he looked over his shoulder and saw Snape standing in the middle of the hall staring at him and Harry could have sworn he saw a brief look of sadness cross the man's face.