Title: Sands of Time
Author: rons_pigwidgeon
Pairing: Severus/Harry
Rating: NC17
Warning/Kinks: non-Snarry pairing, rimming
Word Count: 26, 717
Summary: Harry is on the hunt for a serial killer, who is bent on making his mark by murdering famous wizards and witches in Time. While testing a special Time-Turner that can move both forwards and backwards in Time, Harry and Severus have an accident and find themselves in the middle of the underground facilities of Torchwood. They soon find out that these strange Muggles can help them track their killer and solve the crime.
A/N: First, a HUGE THANK YOU to my beta and teammate, amand_r. Also to mon Capitan, joanwilder, for her excellent assistance throughout, and especially in my final read-through. Lastly, I'd like to thank the rest of my team for your excellent feedback. You were all wonderful and I had a blast working with you! Without all of your help, this story would have looked like a royal mess.

Also, this story was finished before Torchwood: Children of Earth aired in the US, so there are absolutely NO spoilers for the third series at all. No worries for those who have yet to see it to be spoiled the way I was, promise!

Part I

Harry hated Ministry meetings. They were ever-lasting and exceedingly tedious. The last to have been even half-way interesting, Auror Billingsley had got into a fist-fight with Minister Lancaster over cutting the Auror budget by 3%. But that had been three years ago, and they were now down 26%. Billingsley may have won the fist-fight, but he lost the budget battle most decidedly. Harry scribbled a caricature of the fight on the side of his notes as a distraction and fought back an impatient sigh. What he wanted to be doing was getting out there and capturing his perp, not sitting around arguing about what to tell the press about the latest murder victim.

There was no easy way to explain to the media and the Wizarding public at large that the body found in front of Hogsmeade Station was actually Celestina Warbeck—or at least her future self, as Harry had spoken to her an hour ago and she had been shaken, but most certainly alive—and not someone Polyjuiced as her.

"Potter, do you think you could possibly pay attention? This concerns you." The frustration in Malfoy's voice made Harry look up, only to note that the entire group was staring at him.

Fuck me. "Sorry, what?"

"I think we need a consultant to assist in our understanding of the murderer. As you might remember, had you bothered to pay attention," Draco shot him a glare before continuing, "certain evidence has led us to believe that our suspect is a former Death Eater. I would like Severus Snape to be brought in, but as he is not exactly on speaking terms with me…" Harry snorted. Not on speaking terms, indeed. They had nearly come to blows at the last Ministry function, over what Harry wasn't entirely sure. "I thought you might have better luck with him."

Harry tried not to blanch, really he did, but with an idea like that he could little help himself. "Why can't you be our consultant? The Death Eaters stayed in your house for a year."

"And I am afraid I did not have the fortitude at seventeen to do more than hide in my room. Severus knows them well. He will be able to give us an insight no one else would."

"And how exactly am I supposed to convince him? He's hated me for much longer than he has you."

Draco glanced to the Auror next to him and smirked. "I think you'll do fine."

Fine indeed. It took Harry two days to track Snape down, most of which was his own fault for rarely traveling further down Diagon Alley than the bank. How was he to know Snape had a shop set up three blocks further south that had been open since the end of the war? The shop itself was small and unimposing, tucked away between two larger shops. Widdershins was pretty much what Harry expected it to be, a cramped shop of shelves lined with potions and a sparse counter. The young man sitting behind it looked both incredibly unhappy and incredibly bored. His attention was focused on a potions magazine, except for the occasional nervous glance he threw Harry, the only customer in the shop. Harry took his time perusing the shelves, curious to see what sorts of potions Snape stocked, making sure none of them sounded dark. He had always been suspicious of Snape, and old habits were hard to break.

After a while, he went up to the counter and smiled at the young man. "Hello, sorry to bother you, but the Professor wouldn't happen to be in today, would he?"

"Mr. Snape is indisposed at the moment."

"Too indisposed to speak with an Auror about official business?" He raised an eyebrow. The young man's face turned to panic.

"Mr. Potter, sir, there isn't anything illegal going on here. We just sell potions, all of the legal sort. I don't know what you've heard, but it's all lies and vicious rumors. People say lots of things that aren't true about this shop, and you shouldn't listen to everything you hear."

Harry chuckled to himself and shook his head, laying a hand on the table. "Relax, it's nothing of that sort. I just need his help with a case. Would you please go and tell him I'd like to speak to him?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be right back." The young man slipped through a curtain behind the counter and there was the murmur of voices, one of which Harry recognized as his former professor. There was a small crash and a curse, and then the boy came back and directed Harry to go behind the curtain. Harry did so, reluctantly, nervous to be alone with Snape after nearly ten years of only seeing one another from a distance.

He stepped into a room that looked much like Snape's private potions room at Hogwarts, if a bit smaller. There were jars full of ingredients and cauldrons of various sizes and compositions lining the shelves, and two work benches were set up in the middle of the room; one held three bubbling cauldrons while the other held ingredients in various stages of being chopped, minced, crushed, and otherwise mangled. And in the middle stood his former professor, hair longer than it had been and tied back with a black ribbon. He wore his normal work robes, but there was something… different about him. An indefinable something, but Harry liked it. He smiled and went to shake Snape's hand, momentarily forgetting that Snape was meant to hate him.

"To what do I owe this dubious honor, Potter? My assistant claims that you need my help."

"I do, indeed, sir. How have you been? You look like you're doing much better than you did back at Hogwarts, I must say." That earned him a glare.

"Are you trying to tell me that I looked in poor health while you were attending school?"

Fuck, he'd already managed to insult him. This was never going to work. "No, sir, only that you always looked tired and unhappy back then, what with all the stress of spying and dealing with children, and all. You look better rested now, lighter somehow. Good, very good." He smiled unsurely, hoping not to look like too much of an idiot. By the look on Snape's face, he failed.

"I will take that as a compliment, I suppose, though you should know that compliments will not get you what you want. Get to the point and tell me why you are here."

"Right, sorry, I'll get to it, shall I? I don't know if you've seen in the papers or not, but we seem to have a rather nasty serial killer on our hands, and we think he might be one of Voldemort's. We would like you to come on temporarily as a consultant, to help us understand how this man works and possibly who he is. What do you reckon?"

There was a pause as Snape thought the proposition over. He leant a hip against one of the tables and crossed his arms over his chest. "When you say 'we', do you mean Draco? Because I will tell you right now that I will not tolerate working with him."

"Oh no, you'll be working with me. Not that that's any consolation, I guess, but still. Malfoy doesn't work on cases anymore. He's too busy telling everyone else what to do."

"Yes, that does sound right. Just you, then? No partner?"

"Not at the moment. My old partner just left the department and the Academy won't have any new graduates until December. Is that all right?"

"Whether or not it is 'all right' is yet to be seen, but I suppose I might be able to assist you, if it is really necessary. What makes you suspect this man is a former associate of mine?"

"He's been killing Muggle-borns off, famous ones from all over history, and then dumping the bodies in quite obvious places. We just found Celestina Warbeck's body outside Hogsmeade Station. Thankfully school isn't in session, but the poor bloke who found her had to spend the night in hospital for shock."

"Someone has murdered Celestina Warbeck? Good for him; I always thought her an appalling singer."

Harry hid a smile behind his hand and coughed politely. "She isn't actually dead yet. I've spoken to her since and she's quite alive. The body was at least ten years older than she is now, if not more."

"So the Wizarding world is to be subjected to her terrible interpretation of music for another ten years, then? What a pity. I still fail to see why you suspect a Death Eater."

"Why don't you come down to the Ministry and take a look at the case files and see what you think? Like I said, we aren't sure who we're dealing with here. That's why we need you. You'll be compensated well for your time, of course."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And who exactly decides what constitutes 'compensated well'? The Ministry is not exactly known for fair pay of its consultants."

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen; you have my word."

Snape studied him for a long moment, too long in Harry's opinion. He felt like an insect under glass being scrutinized in order to determine the best way to be dissected. Or at least he would have felt that way had it not been for a certain flash of the dark eyes, something indescribable that Harry could have sworn was heat. He made sure to breathe normally and not twitch so as not to give away the sudden nervous tension running through his body.

"All right, I will assist you. Let me have a word with my assistant, and we may leave." He straightened from his position against the table and brushed past Harry and then through the curtain. A brief conversation later and Snape had handed the shop over to the unhappy young man at the counter for the day.

A quick Apparition and a short walk found them in a conference room down the hall from Harry's office, poring over the case files. Photos of all the crime scenes were spread out and each scrutinized thoroughly by Snape. Goerge Noel Byron, Lord Byron had been the first, left at the gates of Newstead Abbey in Nottinghamshire. He had been hit with an Entrail-Expelling Curse and left for dead, only to be found by a traumatized house-elf three days later. It took a week for the Aurors to determine that it was indeed him, snatched from the battlefields of Greece. The next victim was Lucrezia Borgia, brutally raped before Sectumsempra had been cast on her genitals. She had then been left on the doorstep of the Magical Italian Embassy to bleed to death. She was found moments before death, but only managed a few words of Italian, befuddled and confused. They had had to do a genetic identification spell in order to identify her, and even afterwards, Harry had had to ask Hermione who she was.

Isaac Newton had been found three weeks later, decapitated, on the front lawn of the Academy of Alchemical Science near Cambridge. It had taken quite a bit of spellwork to figure out that the spell used to decapitate him had been a simple Diffindo. Until the results came in, Harry hadn't even known the spell could be used on living things. And then there was the latest victim, Celestina Warbeck, found in front of Hogsmeade Station, her vocal chords ripped out by what looked like an angry dog. Further investigation had found a stray with traces of the Oppugno curse. All of the victims had displayed traces of the Cruciatus Curse.

When he had examined every murder victim to the last detail, Snape looked up at Harry with an expression Harry couldn't decipher. "This is Dolohov's work. Each of the victims was killed by one of his favored methods. I've not seen another choose this particular set of spells for their arsenal. And he is the only person I have ever known to use Diffindo to sever a head from a body."

"You're certain?"

"Without catching him at it, no, but if I am correct, his next victim will be exsanguinated."

Harry sighed and slumped into the chair next to Snape. "Bloody brilliant. Can you think what his reason might be for choosing these particular victims? We know they were all Muggleborns, but that seems to be the only common thread and it's not much to work with. Why these people? I just can't find a connection."

"It is possible there is none. I recall that he had a strong dislike for Celestina's music, and he generally disapproves of wizards who spend the majority of their lives living in the Muggle world, but other than that I could not say without further research."

"What about the Time travel bit? Up until Warbeck was found, I thought maybe he'd just come across a powerful Time-Turner, but I've never heard of one that can move forwards as well as backwards in Time. Have you?"

Snape took a moment to consider before answering. "I confess I have not. Have you asked the Time Agent at the Department of Mysteries yet?"

"The what?"

Snape sneered at his ignorance. "The Time Agent. The Unspeakable in charge of the Time-Turners. Do they not brief you on the different departments within the Department of Mysteries during training?"

Harry tried not to look as shamefaced as he felt. "No, they work off the need-to-know theory. I suppose at this point I would fall into that category, but no one's mentioned it yet. How do you know about it?"

"I was a member of the Inner Circle when the Dark Lord took possession of the entire Ministry. There is little about the Department of Mysteries I do not know. They may have changed the location of some of the departments, but I sincerely doubt they've ceased the Time Agency altogether."

"Right. Why don't I ask Malfoy who to get in contact with and we can meet again tomorrow?" Harry ignored the clench of Snape's mouth at the mention of Draco's name. Whatever was between them wasn't his business.

"Will you be going to meet the Agent today? If so, I would like to go with you."

"I don't know if you're allowed..."

"Potter, you obviously understand little about Time travel, and that little undoubtedly was imparted to you by Miss Granger. If I do not come with you, this entire fiasco is likely to end in disaster."

Harry fought the urge for violence and took a calming breath. "I am an Auror, Snape. I am not as incompetent as you believe me to be. If it will get me my perp, I am willing to learn whatever I need to."

"Even so, I would like to attend so as to ask the Agent a few questions. Is that acceptable?"

"Like I said, I don't know if you're allowed. I'll talk to Malfoy. Do you want me to send in some tea?" Snape gave a short nod and pulled one of the victim's files closer for a second look. Harry sent a clerk to fetch the tea in passing and went in search of Draco. The blond was sitting amongst a mountain of paperwork, looking about ready to burn the lot.

"Do me a favor and don't almost get killed, Potter. The paperwork is monstrous," he muttered, shoving a precariously stacked pile to the side and turning his attention to Harry.

"Duly noted. Do you know anything about a Time Agent in the Department of Mysteries?"

His question was met with an exasperated sigh. "Of course I do, Potter, and so would you, had you actually listened to a word that was said at the meeting. The current Time Agent is Alfonso Tiberon, and he has been awaiting you for three days. If you go down to the Department of Mysteries, all you need do is call out 'Time waits for no man' and you will be brought directly to his office."

"Right, ta. Snape thinks it's Dolohov. What do you reckon?"

Draco looked surprised. "Dolohov, really? I thought for sure he died during the Battle of Hogwarts, but we never recovered his body, so I suppose it's a possibility."

"I'll have to re-check the records to make sure. Oh, and Snape is insisting he comes with me to speak to this Tiberon bloke. Is he allowed?"

"Yes, he's been given temporary clearance. Again, had you been listening…"

"Yeah, all right, I get it. I'll try to listen more, promise." His tone implied that he had no such intention. Draco knew not to expect miracles. He dismissed him with a hand wave, tired of looking at his most frustrating Auror.

"Tiberon usually goes home at six, so you might want to hurry if you intend to see him today."

Harry checked his watch, cursed, and hurried out. He quickly collected Snape from the conference room and they made their way to the lift.

"Level Nine, Department of Mysteries. I hope you've enjoyed a very pleasant ride, Mr. Potter," spoke the flirtatious voice of the lift. Harry blushed and pretended not to hear it, but the raised eyebrow he received from Snape told him that it did not go unnoticed.

"Is there an entity in the Wizarding world that hasn't fallen under the spell of the Great Harry Potter?" he asked sarcastically.

Harry shot him a look. "You."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter." He said no more, but the smirk remained.

Harry mumbled a frustrated, "Sod off," and led the way down the sparse, dank hallway to the black door of the Department of Mysteries. He slipped through the door without waiting for Snape, hoping it would slam in his face, but he had no such luck. He grumbled to himself as Snape stood next to him, still smirking. He directed his gaze to the circular room and its many doors, hoping to whatever deity ran this insane world that Malfoy hadn't got the phrase wrong. "Time waits for no man."

The walls began to spin, as they had on other occasions, and Harry felt the remembered sense of nausea. He took ahold of Snape's wrist to keep steady, not realizing he had done so until the room came to a stop and they were stood in front of a fuchsia door with 'Time Agency' written in silver script across the top.

Harry's first impression of Tiberon was that he had rather unnaturally large eyes. They were bright blue and the pupils, Harry could have sworn, were the size of galleons. Otherwise he was rather ordinary-looking, if a bit out-dated. Obviously he didn't leave the office much, as his robes looked to be out of the seventies. He was friendly, though, and very enthusiastic to share his knowledge, which was all Harry cared about really

"What you're describing sounds to be a Sands of Time, but how the blast anyone outside my office would get a hold of one is beyond me. I've only ever heard of one in existence and it's still where I left it, safe as can be."

Harry exchanged a look with Snape. "May we see it?"

"Yes, yes, of course. It's just over…" He turned to a section of shelves full of all sorts of Time-Turners and other paraphernalia, but paused. "Here… Now where the devil did I put that blasted thing? It was on that third shelf just there yesterday, I swear." He huffed a bit and began to slowly deconstruct his office, digging through boxes and crates and desk drawers. His guests exchanged another look

"Is it possible someone might have stolen it?" Harry's question was met with a shake of the head

"No, no, the wards down here are very strong, have been ever since your little break-in several years back, Mr. Potter. Really, you should have been given a medal just for prompting them to increase security. It was appalling beforehand… Here it is! I knew I'd just misplaced it. Theft, really, as if that were possible." Snape had acquired a rather smug look during this diatribe and Harry had to pinch his arm to get him to stop. The next look told him that he would be paying dearly for the liberty.

They both focused in on the device in Tiberon's hands. He gave it over to Harry for examination and he and Snape leant in to look. It was about the length of Harry's hand and surprisingly light. The outer casing was a hollow rectangle of a dark cherry, nearly black in color, and painted on one side in gold lettering was the word 'redeo', while the other side read 'porro'. Fastened inside the casing by a pin was an hourglass, about fifteen centimeters in height. The glass appeared to be able to spin, but was held in place by a small clasp. Fastened on the outside of one side of the casing was a set of concentric gold dials, the largest of which had the word 'annus' inscribed around the edge. From there the increasingly smaller dials read 'mensis', 'hebomas', 'dies', 'hora', and 'minuta'.

Harry turned the device over several times before handing it to Snape. "How does it work?"

"It's simple, really. You move the dials on the side there. Yes, just there, Mr. Snape, to whatever amount of Time you would like to move through. Once it is set correctly, you unclasp the hourglass. If you desire to go backwards, as you would with a conventional Time-Turner, you simply spin it backwards however many turns are necessary, and off you are. If you desire to go to the future, you simply turn it forwards. Everyone traveling with you must be touching the device, just as with a Portkey. It's best to research your area and try as best you can to stand where there are not likely to be any obstacles in your way so that accidents don't occur, but other than that, it is fairly simple."

"Have you been able to use it successfully?" Snape asked.

"No, not as such. I very rarely attempt to use any of my devices. I am old enough as it is without having to live bits over again." His eyes twinkled in a manner that reminded Harry of Dumbledore.

"How are you to know whether or not any of your equipment works, if you refuse to use it? We could be thrown into the ether, never to return," Snape snapped.

"We? Who said we were using it?" Harry whipped his head around to look at Snape.

"How precisely do you intend to catch a Time-traveling killer without traveling in Time yourself?"

"I…" Shit, he had a point. "I guess you're right. Agent Tiberon?"

"Well… I suppose you'll just have to give it a go and find out, won't you? Maybe give it a quick test run?" He looked eager to find out if it worked, or maybe just to get rid of them so that he could go home for the night, Harry couldn't decide. He and Snape exchanged another look.

"I'll have to clear it with Malfoy. Can we take this with us?"

"Of course! Please let me know how it goes." He beamed. Harry was beginning to get annoyed with the enthusiasm of this man.

"Will do. Let's go, Snape. Hopefully Malfoy's still in his office."

Snape grumbled but followed reluctantly, device in hand. It took much less time for them to reach the Auror department than it had to reach the Time Agent's office, mainly because there were very few people still left at the Ministry that late in the evening. They were soon standing in Malfoy's office, Snape looking tense enough to blow a blood vessel. Whatever had happened between Malfoy and Snape, it was definitely intense.

"Tiberon hasn't checked the Sands of Time to see if it works. Would it be all right if we tested it out? In case we need it for the case?"

Draco studied him for a long time, quiet and a little tense around the mouth. "Do you recall what I said to you earlier about causing yourself bodily harm while on duty?"

"Don't do it."

"He can be trained! Don't get either one of you hurt. I've had enough incident reports for a month, thanks to Raddish's idiotic handling of the werewolf case. I don't want any more, understood?"

"Got it. See you when we get back, then?" He flashed Draco a grin and turned to leave.

"Have a nice evening, both of you. You're looking well, Severus."

Harry heard a growl leave Snape's throat just as the door shut behind them. Harry led him to his office and shut the door. There weren't many people still in that late, but Harry knew those that were still there would ask too many questions. "So, past or future?" he asked, turning to his counterpart. He received an arched brow.

"The future, I think. That way if we run into ourselves, we will know what we are about."

"That makes sense. Okay, he said you have to set the dial first…" It took several minutes and a small argument for them to prepare the device. Snape unclasped the hourglass and spun it three times. There was a loud boom like a firecracker, and everything went spinning around them. Harry was reminded of Floo travel, though without the soot and a greater feeling that he was going to lose his lunch.