Chapter Text
Walking a wavering line down a grime-choked street of an even dirtier town, she thinks, 'This isn't real.' Then, she pinches the fat of her arm. It creates a dull ache that vibrates through her flesh. "It's real," she whispers to herself. It's an odd thing, she thinks, time traveling. Even more so when you don't expect it. She knew being an Unspeakable would lead to some perilous situations, but this is leagues above her most crazed imagining.
Mild maimings? Almost a daily occurrence for those of her profession. Being turned into cats and growing budgie wings? Just a normal Thursday. Even someone losing a limb or the ability to speak nouns isn't too strange for their kind. This, though, is something else entirely.
Who knew something as innocuous as a pocket-watch could get her into a situation like this (though, she is beginning to come around to the idea the pocket-watch she'd picked up had in fact been a makeshift Time-Turner and Portkey)? Even worse, however, is knowing it's lost somewhere in the river of time. She doesn’t have the faintest idea how she’s going to return to 2037.
Maybe her colleagues will figure out what happened and bring her home. Maybe the Time-Turner Portkey combo will materialize in her hand and she'll be able to reverse it so that she return to the correct place in the space-time continuum. Maybe, Maybe, Maybe. She is not a religious woman, not like her father, but she prays to his (or rather, their, ) God for help. Anything he can offer will do.
Suddenly, she's stopped by something pulling on the back of her robe. She turns. A little girl with vibrant red hair stares up at her.
"Yes?" she says.
The child, expression curious, asks, "Are you a witch?"
She does a double take of the child. She's dressed in a straight-cut dress made of blue-grey fabric. Daisy hair clips pin her hair away from her eyes. She looks very Muggle. She knows Muggle story books often depict her kind as she is dressed now (why, of all things, did she have to lose her wand along with the time-turner?) But she'd thought the dark hue of her robe was doing a very good job of fooling those around her into believing she is wearing a trenchcoat.
"No," she answers. There's still the Statute of Secrecy to uphold – even if she's some sixty years in the past.
The girl seems little discouraged by this. Instead, she says, "Okay. But if you're looking for Missus Snape, she lives that way." And she points behind her, in the direction she'd come from. Her heart hammers a little harder in her chest. All children learn of Severus Snape when studying the Second War. He was monumental to the light side's win (even if few liked him and most agreed he was at the very least unpleasant).
Can she truly have ended up in his childhood hometown? She turns her eyes once more on the girl before her. She's heard stories… Cautiously, she crouches down to the girl's height. The child really isn't all that much shorter than her, but she wants to make sure she was meeting the girl's gaze straight on as she asks her next question.
"Missus Snape, you say? Severus Snape's mother?"
The girl bobs her head. "Yes."
She puts her hand out for the child to take. "Would you mind leading me to her home? I need to speak with her." Though, that isn't quite the truth. What she wants from Missus Snape is her wand. It likely will be an ill-fit for her, but it will be better than having no wand at all.
The girl's face becomes uneasy. "'M not supposed to go that way," she whispers. "Daddy says Spinner's End isn't safe."
"Your friend comes from there, though," she says. She has little doubt who this girl is any longer.
Green eyes widen. "How d'you know about Sev and me being friends?"
"His mother and I are friends. She's written once or twice about you," she lies, feigning the warmest smile she can for the girl. "I promise as soon as you drop me off there, you can run right back to where you're supposed to be. No one will ever know." She winks, hoping it will win the girl over.
"I dunno…"
"Please? I'm already quite late. I would hate to upset Missus Snape further!"
Lily Evans bites her lip. "Okay."
"Thank you."
The girl places her hand in hers and she wraps her fingers around it. She thinks, 'How strange, I hold the hand of the savior's mother, yet it feels as ordinary as my own!'
Together, they walk down the street past ugly townhouse after ugly townhouse until they come to one that feels just a little different. It is still squat and gray and brick like all the rest, but there is a planter sitting by the door. In it grow scraggly plants she knows are used in potions. Healing ones, mostly.
"This is it," Lily tells her.
She smiles at the girl. "Thank you for bringing me here. All these homes look the same to me!"
The girl laughs at her remark. "Yeah, a bit."
Letting go of her hand, she says, "Off you go now."
Instead, the girl put her hands behind her back and rocks back on her heels. "If you're still keeping this a secret, would it be okay if I wait right here until Sev comes out? We were gonna meet up anyway."
She shrugs. Why not? "Sure," she replies. Then, walking up the brick path, she knocks on the door. A moment later, a little boy answers. He is skinny and his clothes hang off him and cling to him in equal parts. They are either too small or too big on his frame and she feels a pang of fear. Why, with magic and a wand, would his mother ever let him go out in public and walk around like this?
Merlin, please let her still have a wand. Let this not be all for naught. "Hello," she greets, putting on a smile she hopes looks more friendly than she feels it does. "Is your mother home?"
His beady eyes intensify. "You're a witch," he says.
"Yes, I am," she answers.
Severus's lips thin. "And you're dressed like one."
She can't help but roll her eyes. "Yes, luck has not been on my side today. I seem to have lost my wand."
He tilts his head and stares at her as if she is an idiot. She’s surprised at how scathing his glare is. Obviously, he's been practicing the deathly stare he was known for from a very young age. "What d'you expect my mum to do about it?"
She opens her mouth, then, thinking better of it, closes it. The two of them hold a staring match. However, it is soon broken by the sound of footsteps from behind her They both look. It is Lily.
"What're you doing?" she asks, confusion evident in her tone.
Severus's expression morphs into one of concern. "What are you doing? You know your dad doesn't want you on Spinner's End! He said he'd make you stay on your street if he heard you came this way after last time!" He let his limp, black hair fall forward into his face, effectively cloaking what may have been a shimmer in his eyes. "I won’t see you again all summer if that happens!"
Lily points at her. "She said she wouldn't tell anyone that I helped her come here."
Severus makes a derisive noise. "You believed her?"
"She said she was your mum's friend…" Lily mumbles, fingers going to pluck at the skirt of her dress. She feels for the girl. It’s her fault Lily now looks so dejected. If she'd the choice, she would have never tricked the child. Perhaps, later, she can ask Eileen Snape to have Severus apologize on her behalf to Lily. She doesn’t want any ill-will between Severus and her – not yet at least. That might change the course of history and ruin all that she knows if this festers.
Face stern, Severus tells her, "Well, she's not. Mum doesn't have any friends."
"That's a rather rude thing to say, Severus. I rather like to think Missus Wroth across the street is a friend," a voice from behind Severus scolds.
The little boy goes stiff as a man under an Immobulus before he quickly scuttles off to the left side of the threshold ( already planning his escape strategy, it seems). "Sorry," he whispers, eyes downward.
She stares at the woman who now stands before her. She is a grim figure. Tall, thin, and terribly pale with dark rings beneath her eyes. The drab dress and apron combo she wears do nothing but add to her sickly appearance. The woman, Severus Snape's mother, gives her son a nudge outside.
"Take Lily back to her side of town. I'll take care of this."
Severus shoots past her, like an arrow released from the quiver of a bow. Snagging Lily's hand as he moves past her, he says to Lily, "Let's hurry. If we do, I bet 'Tuney won't even notice you were missing and tattle."
Lily casts one last glance at her, before nodding and hurrying after her friend. Soon, the two of them are gone from view. Turning her attention back to the woman in the doorway, she smiles.
"How do you do, Missus Snape?"
The woman crosses her arms, and much like her son, her beady eyes intensified their perpetual glare. "Who are you?"
She sighs. Running a shaky hand through the short, choppy locks of her pixie-cut, she says, "I'm Ruth Goldstein and I need your help."