Albus’ white tomb rose before Severus. He glanced around, behind him was the grey obelisk and his own black tomb.  Snow was piled high around the little memorial, but it had been cleared from the paving stones.

A slightly built, blond man in dark green velvet robes stood gazing at the names on the obelisk.

“Hello?” Severus wasn’t sure he was even actually here.

 The other man turned. Severus was relieved to be heard. “You.” He smiled, seemingly pleased to see Severus. “You said we’d see each other again.” His eyebrow furrowed when Severus didn’t say anything. “It’s me. Tim.”  

An adult Tim. A Tim who was at least as old as Severus. Possibly older. It was hard to tell. “I’m glad you came.”

“I don’t understand.” Severus finally said, feeling lost, wrung out and desperately tired. “Has that mind healer not sent me back to where I belong?”

Tim crossed over to Severus’ side. “Are you all right?” He waved his wand and a chair appeared. He pushed Severus to sit down.

“I most certainly am not. I expected to be back where I belong. Not here.” He waved his hand to indicate the tombs. “Not even further into the future. Am I still in your head?”

Tim shook his head. “Not usually. But I’m not surprised you showed up today.”

“What do you mean?”

Tim looked away, his face going flat, impassive. “Dad’s dying. I guess my subconscious conjured you up because…well…” His lips compressed into a bloodless line.

 “Isn’t there anything to be done?” Asked Severus slowly, almost against his will. He didn’t much care about Potter, except that he didn’t like to see Tim distressed.

Tim looked back, smiled mournfully. “No. He doesn’t want to try anything else. And I can’t blame him. It’s just hard.”

“Tim? Wake up.” Someone was shaking them. “Tim? Dad’s asking for you.”

That disorientation of being a passenger in Tim’s body again made Severus a little dizzy. Tim sat up. “What?”

He was taller now, with a lithe angular frame. He brushed longish hair out of his eyes.

An auburn haired, middle aged witch in healer’s robes stood over him. At first Severus took her for Ginny Weasley.

“Dad’s asking for you. He’s worse.” Tears were flowing down her face. “Tim…I think….” She broke off. “Just, come on.”

“Okay, Lily, I’m coming.” Tim slept in his clothes on top of the bed cover. He picked up his wand and gave himself a quick refreshing charm. The bedroom was the same one Tim had been sleeping in, but it was empty of personal effects

A much older James sat beside the bed. “Hey, Tim.” He said, tiredly. He got up to give his brother an awkward hug. “Another change of plans I guess. Lily tell you?”

Tim nodded.

“Can you stay with him for a bit?”

“Yeah. You go on.”

Tim sat in the chair James vacated. “Hey, Dad.”

The man in the bed had stark white hair, a neat white beard and Potter’s scar. He opened wandering green eyes, vivid against the gray pallor of his face. His breathing was a wet rattle in his chest.

Potter’s eyes found Tim, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “You? What are you doing here?” After staring for a minute, he smiled slightly, “Is it that time, already?”

“Dad?” Said Tim more loudly, putting his hand on Potter’s shoulder. “It’s me.”

The vague eyes narrowed, focused on Tim. Suddenly the elderly man’s eyebrows crept up to his hairline, “Oh, of course!” His voice was full of wonder, “I should have seen it sooner.”

“Seen…what?”

“The Dark Man came back. Didn’t he?”

Tim and Severus shared equal measures of astonishment. “I just...I had a dream about him. How did you know?”

The old man nodded. “Don’t worry about it.” His eyes wandered away from Tim’s face again and he seemed to forget Tim was sitting there. His hands picked at the bedspread and he mumbled quietly. “...ledore.” Severus thought he said. “...not talking to you.”

“Dad? Do you need anything? Lily said you were asking for me.” Tim tried to bring his father back to the here and now.

“Yes, love.” Potter shook himself, bringing himself back with an effort. “I wanted to tell you, the cloak goes to you.”

“Me?” Tim said, astonished. “But, James...”

“Has his own. I bought it for him years ago. But I wanted you to have the old one. It seems right somehow. And I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Tim nodded, his throat too tight too speak.

Potter’s eyes dropped closed. The alarming rattle in his chest seemed worse. “Will you go out there and tell your sister to bring me more of that potion?”

“Of course.” Tim stood, bent down to give his father a hug.

“Take care of each other.” Potter whispered.

In the hallway, Albus, James and Lily stood talking quietly.

“Dad needs more potion.” Said Tim.

Lily nodded. “I’ll take it in.” She summoned the bottle to her and plucked it out of the air, heading into the bedroom.

“I miss Mum.” Said James, who was wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I guess I’m not surprised that...” He broke off.

Albus nodded, “We always did say that he wouldn’t last long after she went.”

“Sev?” A voice said, standing very close to Tim. “We should go.”

A low cry from the bedroom made everyone turn. “Dad!”

The three men met each other’s eyes in alarm and hurried into the bedroom.

Strangely, although Tim had gone to check on his father, Severus remained standing in the hallway. A cool hand rested on his shoulder.

Severus turned. Standing there in front of him was an elderly Harry Bloody Potter in robes of red and gold. More fit and healthy than he had been as he lay in the bed, but at least ninety. His green eyes no longer vague, but sharp and clear.

“What’s happening?” Severus asked, plaintively.

The walls around them faded away. They stood in a white fog, on a white surface. “Come along.” Potter said, taking him by the elbow, “You gave me quite a shock, I must say. I thought you were coming to fetch me. But, it seems I need to take you home first.”

Too confused to do anything else, Severus allowed himself to follow the man’s lead.

The world seemed to take shape as they walked. A path of paving stones and a stone wall appeared with benches at intervals. Sunlight broke through the fog.

“Come along.” Potter said again. He steered them both to sit on one of the benches. Then he fixed his gaze on Severus’ face. “The potion wants to draw you back to your proper time, but we need to talk first.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” Nothing was back there for him.

Potter leaned forward and patted Severus’ hand paternally. “Then you don’t have to. Madame Pomphrey will find you dead in the morning, in your office. The War will be over for you, at last.”

That was so appealing that there had to be a catch. “And then what happens?”

“I don’t know.” Potter looked down. “I’m sure we’ll win in the end.”

“Harry.” Another voice said, “If he doesn’t go back, many more people will die.” Albus Dumbledore strode confidently up the cobbled walk, dressed in blue robes with yellow stars at the hem, looking better than Severus had seen him since before Voldemort returned.

Potter rose, stared up into the much taller man’s face. “I’m still not talking to you.” He growled. Turning to Severus he said, “If you do go back, you should go back because you chose to, not because he manipulated you into it.”

“Was what I did so wrong?” Dumbledore sounded hurt. “I was only...”

“Doing it for the greater good. Yes, yes. I’ve heard.” Potter waved a dismissive hand. “And doing it through secrets and lies. I’m still not sure the ends ever justify the means.” The old man paused, “Professor Dumbledore, I think you have something you need to tell Professor Snape.”

Dumbledore’s cheeks reddened. “Quite right, Harry,” he said. Turning to Severus, he inclined his head graciously, “I never got the chance to say thank you, my boy. I am very grateful for everything you have done for me.”

His own cheeks reddening, Severus muttered an acknowledgement.

“Well. We’ll talk again soon, Severus.” Dumbledore smiled, gently.

“Until then, I suppose.” Severus said.

“Until then.” The tall man turned and walked away, fading into white fog.

Severus sat, not speaking, just soaking up the peace of the sunlit afternoon for a long time. Potter seemed in no hurry.

“Tell me spirit,” Severus said, half facetiously, “‘Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of things that May be, only?’ ”

Potter replied with a grin, “’Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead, but if the courses be departed from, the ends will change.’”

“I would not have thought you cared for Dickens.”

“Al reads to me, since I’ve been ill.” His smile faltered and he sighed. “I’ll miss the children.” More seriously, he went on, “I think for you, these are only things that may be. To be honest, I would rather you didn’t go back. It’s hard to send your son to war.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Haven’t you seen it yet?”

“Seen what?”

In answer, Potter waved his wand and a mirror appeared in front of them. At first, Severus saw a normal reflection with himself and the old man that Potter had become. Then, so subtly that it was hard to discern just when it happened, the black hair became blond, the black eyes turned blue. In the mirror sat the middle aged Tim.

There’s only one soul in that body. “But...how?”

“I think we needed a chance to do right by each other. Tim is who you’ll become.”

“But...he’s not me.”

A small smile played around Potter’s lips, “We change, Sev. But, we remain who we are. Tim needed protection, so your soul looked to its own past. You became his Dark Man—the shadow of his adult self.”

“So, I’m to be discarded again? When I’m not needed?” The thought was a blow to his chest. The horrible truth of his life.

Shaking his head, Potter said, gently, “If you went back to speak with your seventeen year old self, would he still be you?”

“Yes.”

“So, it follows that Tim is still you. Your own future life. Even your wand knew its master. Don’t you remember?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Potter stroked his neat white beard. “It occurs to me; perhaps we were meeting out of order.” He said contemplatively.

Severus sat thinking about the implications of that. The way the boy’s inner monologues were so easy to listen to. The way Tim shut down when afraid. How naturally the boy’s magic flowed for him. The thinnest of barriers separated them; Severus leaked his thoughts out to the boy and vice versa. That should not have happened, not with Severus’ skills at Occlumency. The boy even had the same taste in reading, for Merlin’s sake.

 The sun moved in the sky, dipping towards late afternoon. They sat silently, enjoying each other’s company, for hours.  “I think I should return to my office.” Severus said finally.

The old man nodded sadly. “Yes.” He stood. “I can go with you part of the way.”

The cobbled path was twisty. A dark wood sprang up around them. The bright afternoon turned sullen.

“Tell me, Potter, what does Tim do with his life?”

“Sev, if you could have been anything you wanted, what would you have been?”

“I had dreams of being a researcher. I’m not altogether sure in what.”

Potter grinned. “You do become a researcher. I won’t spoil the surprise by telling you what you research.”

In the middle of the path, a door stood. It looked remarkably like the door to the Headmaster’s office.

“I don’t want you to go.” Potter said, suddenly. He sagged where he stood, a frail old man. “I...” Gazing at Severus with eyes which were too bright, he swallowed whatever he was going to say and squared his shoulders. Because he was shorter than Severus, he had to reach up to embrace his son, the way fathers have always embraced their sons who go to war.

“Dad...” Whispered Severus.

“I am so proud of you. You are still the bravest man I ever met.” His adopted father looked up at him, his eyes shining with equal parts pride and pain. “I promise you, Sev, when you get to the end, you won’t be alone.”

With those last enigmatic words, he stepped back. Severus nodded sharply, turned to open the door, and stepped into the darkness beyond.