Severus had only come through that strange rift two days prior and, casting aside the disorientation and disbelief anyone felt upon doing so, it'd taken him that time to recover from the situation he'd found himself in here. Upon arrival he'd discovered a wallet in his pocket and clothes on his person so incredibly unlike himself that he'd thought it some grand joke. It wasn't. Neither was the flat he'd made his way back to, as much as he'd like it to be.
Yes. The flat was that bad. Severus Snape, always rather conservative for a Slytherin, at least when it came to sexuality or romance, had walked into a bloody gay art gallery... and now he hurried in an effort to find any pieces he hadn't already hidden somewhere, not greatly eager for anyone, much less someone he actually knew to be accosted similarly. He was sure he'd missed something when he heard the girl at the bell but decided that simply wouldn't be keener to spot it than he and answered the door, looking ever suspicious as he peeked through the crack of it.
She was alone. He let her in... and things were getting stranger and stranger. She hardly looked a day older than sixteen... while he himself was nearly twenty two.
"You're not the woman I saw a week ago," Severus said stupidly, looking at Alecto with strange concern and then moving toward a gaudy lime chair to sit, looking perfectly uncomfortable in that room, "I wonder who else is here."