A/N: I know, I know! Believe it or not, I have added a chapter! LOL Actually, I also updated the first few chapters on A03 where I write as kayakaari. I might get around to updating the first few chapters here too but I think my priority must be seeing how long my muse will stick around this time and getting as much written as possible. The updates were mostly SPaG errors anyway.

I have seen the future and it doesn't work.

-Robert Fulford

Part 2

It was only the pleasant lethargy of post-coital bliss that kept Toreth from fuming at the unrestrained looks of joy in Sara and Warrick's faces as Snape joined them for the short trip to the airport and on to New Cardiff. He scowled lightly in response to the time traveler's smirk. It was the best he could manage with what little energy remained after Warrick's attentions that morning. He suspected his lover's generosity wasn't completely altruistic and that he was meant to be too happy and buzzed to fret, but he was too happy and buzzed to care about the manipulation and enjoyed the journey in tranquil bliss.

"You have reached your destination." The car's announcement awoke Toreth from a much need nap. He blinked owlishly, the remnants of too much expensive liquor from the plane's mini-bar lingering on his taste buds.

"Are we here?" he asked, deliberately interrupting Snape's history lesson.

"So happy you could join us," the infuriatingly smug man scolded. "Yes, we are in Glorious Glamorgan, formerly known Cardiff, in the district of New Cardiff, formerly known as Wales. You missed quite an informative and educational discussion."

Toreth ignored the lecture and got out of the car to stretch. He opened his mouth to yawn and ended up choking on a bug that had flown into the warm, open cavity.

"Fuck!" he shouted as Snape 'helpfully' thumped his back with unnecessary force. "Why would anyone want to live near these bloody pests is beyond me, far less wanting to consume anything made with them!"

He hurried forward to join Sara and Warrick as they strolled towards a large holographic map of Glorious Glamorgan, unwilling to walk beside Snape who looked like a first time tourist.

"When you said that they had preserved old houses in this area, I did not realize you meant that this area was some sort of living museum of architectural history," the wizard said to Warrick, pointing to the neighbouring buildings and then to the map, "I expected old Welsh structures preserved here but this…I did not expect this!" he exclaimed, waving hopelessly at the floating signs lining the streets of the holographic map.

Name: Ripon Cathedral; Style: Anglo-Saxon Gothic; Constructed: circa 7th Century

Name: Auckland Castle; Style: Castle/Palace; Constructed: circa 12th Century

Name: Lancaster House; Style: Georgian; Constructed: 19th Century

Large structures – castles, cathedrals, palaces, manor houses, university colleges, old factories and office buildings built centuries apart in cities and villages across the British Isles now lined the streets of this bizarre town in absurd disorder. Buildings which once sat on landscaped hectares now sat mere metres apart, separated only by roads, driveways and the occasional small park. A late 19th century steel mill similar to those of Snape's youth in Northern England sat flanked by a grand medieval cathedral on the right and a late 20th century blue glass and steel tower from the City of London on the right. The grimy mill, still covered in soot, looked even grimmer in the shadows of its illustrious neighbours.

"They dismantled these buildings in their original locations and brought them here? Why?" Snape asked in horrified wonder.

"Actually, it was your kind," Warrick began before censoring himself nervously. Fortunately, it was early and off-season so the streets were mostly deserted. Still, he stood closer to Snape and continued in a tone just above a whisper, "The story goes that buildings were being demolished en masse in the early 22nd century to make way for the buildings you see now in New London. It was several of the er, Muggles, who loved history and architecture, that approached the wizards and agreed to work together to try to salvage the buildings using a combination of Muggle Technology and magic. The project spanned almost 300 years, continuing even as magic was being wiped out. The official story is that these buildings were salvaged by The Administration and preserved here but I always doubted it. The Administration is too orderly to have created this layout. Cul-de-sacs, crescents, dead-end lanes – none of these fit into the ethos of The Administration yet they are everywhere in Glorious Glamorgan. If this had been an Administration planned town, it would have been much more orderly."

Snape nodded his agreement though he felt that this sort of organic chaos seemed more magic-inspired than Muggle created and wondered if there had truly been any Muggles involved at all. He took a deep, fortifying breath and turned towards Ripon Cathedral, the nearest of the buildings.

"This way, Severus," Warrick called to him and pointed to a modern structure beyond the holograph. "We must use the monorail to travel around Glorious Glamorgan. The area is too large otherwise and only residents may use their cars."

To his own shame, Severus Snape felt a sense of relief as they entered the structured order of sterile building, the absurdity of outside having become almost too much for him. Inside, a smaller, two-dimensional interactive map showed the quadrants that made up the town. Warrick tapped on the northwest quadrant to expand it and zoom in.

"I think we should begin here, in the Victory Park area. There is a large hilly wooded area which I believe is natural, not man-made." He pointed to woods surrounding two of three arcs of buildings which circled an open park labeled "Market". "There are stalls in the market here which sell real fruits, vegetables and herbs. The antique store I told you about is in one of the houses in this row of houses."

"It reminds me of The Circus at Bath," Snape mused aloud.

"Yes! Yes, that's what it's called – The Circus at Bath! I never realized that was its historical name. I thought a circus was a place with entertainers with painted faces?"

Severus told what little he knew about the difference between a circus and The Circus at Bath or Piccadilly Circus during their journey on the monorail. His information was partly fantasy considering that he had never visited either of these places with an informed tour guide but who could challenge him? If not even Warrick knew, and evidently he knew much of official and prohibited histories, then clearly the truth had been lost to time.

Visits to the market and antique store had been somewhat successful. Snape had procured an old pewter cauldron being sold (and displayed) as a flower pot. Fortunately, not even here near Victory Park were Muggles willing to encounter dirt. Consequently the flowers had been potted in some sort of foam, which he knew from experience with the silly potted plant Sara gave him for his New London flat, could be easily banished without damaging its container. He had also found a brass cauldron which had been gilded and he would scrape the infinitesimal layer of gold from it for possible future use. Several herbs had also been procured from the market. They smelled right and tasted right but whether their magical properties had been altered or diminished by their growth in the modern faux-soil foam product would remain to be seen.

The three men strolled along the curved road in front of The Circle, headed towards the second to last house which was also a clothing store whose charms had long before seduced Sara. They made an amusing sight: Toreth bored and brooding; Warrick chatting animatedly as he enjoyed the architecture around him; and Snape, his face in a light scowl as depression sunk in.

While much closer to the world he left behind only a few months ago, even Glorious Glamorgan seemed cold, unnatural and impersonal, albeit less so than New London. Warrick had once again assured him that there was genuine earth in Victory Park but he found himself increasingly doubtful. Nothing here had so far been made from or of nature. Until now, there had been a part of him that dallied over finding a way back to his time.

Oh, he mostly longed to return to his time – at times because he had developed an even greater appreciation for the importance of his duty; at times because, in spite of the miserable life he lived and the future he had no doubt would have ended with him Kissed in Azkaban, he longed to help Lily's boy succeed. But he let himself be controlled by that small, vengeful part of him which enjoyed being revered as a hero, albeit only by secret revolutionaries, in a future that a Potter had ruined. But now, the longer he stayed away from magic and nature, the more depressed and anxious he felt. His instincts were becoming increasingly primal and he longed to sink his fingers in soil, crumbling root filled mud and inhaling earthy aromas.

"Hurry up, you three, I need your advice!" Sara's shout from the doorway of the store made them look up.

Toreth grumbled and looked away, Warrick chuckled and waved while Snape stopped and stared. There, at the end of The Circus, stood his old home, looking only slightly less worse for wear except for a sign which had obviously not been there during his childhood. Spinner's End Inn and Pub looked absurd tacked on to the end of the grand townhouses of The Circus.

"Severus?" Warrick called from several paces ahead.

"What's that doing there?" Snape asked, pointing at the little terraced house.

"That's the entrance to Victoria Park. Look, I know you're worried about it and that modern structure probably doesn't alleviate your concerns much but I promise you, that building is just the visitor center where they warn you about Nature and bugs and dirt and all the things people of our century do not encounter daily. It's also got a gift shop, food court and washroom."

Snape nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes, I can read the sign on the building. What's that – between the visitor center and the end of the Circus?"

Warrick and Toreth exchanged confused looks and Snape realized that they couldn't see the small house. Trying desperately not to hope – when had hope ever done him any favours? – Severus hurried ahead of the other men. There! He could feel the tingle of wards and Muggle repellant charms. Magic! Not since the first time his mother had taken him to Diagon Alley could he remember feeling such simple joy and a sense of coming home. That the small house at Spinner's End had never felt like a home to him was moot. It was now the most beautiful building in the world as far as he was concerned.

Only a lifetime of experience with disguising impatience kept Severus from rushing to the pub. Instead he resisted the pull of the magic which seemed to resuscitate his soul and joined Sara with a joyous smile which had nothing to do with hers. A few discreet spells later and he had abandoned his hosts and left to breach the weak wards around his new haven.

Deathly silence greeted Snape as he entered his sitting room which was now the tiny pub. To his immediate left, the wall ending with the door to the kitchen was lined with hooks covered in a curious mixture of the modern shiny material favoured by the Muggles and old weathered Wizarding robes. To the right, his bookcases and rickety furniture were gone. In their place, two small square tables, each with barely enough room for two, jostled for space under the front window that looked out on to the street. Though the four stools around them were unoccupied, the abandoned, still steaming bowl of stew and pushed out stool showed where at least one diner had just left. Snape snorted in amusement at said diner, a stout, wide-eyed, gaping man in robes who was pointing at him with a spoon and licking a wand. He was half crouched behind the inadequate shelter provided by a rectangular picnic table with low benches around it that took up what little space was left in the middle of the room. Behind the would-be defender, in a narrow bar which started at the kitchen door and stretched across the back wall of the room, stood a middle-aged, pointy-faced blond polishing a mug fastidiously.

"Who…you…you can't be you, can you?" gasped an elderly woman who appeared through the door beside the bar.

"Of course he's him!" cheered a little girl no older than eight years old who clattered down the stairs, almost tripping over the diner's abandoned stool. She quickly pushed it under the small table and reached for the dishes in practiced, subconscious actions. She frowned at the still full bowl and turned towards the diner. "Don't you want your stew nice and hot, Dr. Longbottom? You'd better come eat it soon! Come now, Master Snape isn't here to hurt us, are you, sir?"

Severus barely controlled a flinch as he felt the little hand slip into his. Had she Apparated across the room? Caught staring at Doctor Longbottom, he hadn't seen her move. Severus Snape did not like surprises. Looking down at the little girl with his fiercest scowl, he was startled into silence by twinkling blue eyes which reminded him most wretchedly of Albus Dumbledore.

"So I do have his eyes!" the child laughed, causing him to immediately check his Occlumency shields. "My name is Ali Malfoy. Well, it's Albus Malfoy but only Mum calls me that, and only when she's really angry," she explained, pointing to the lady from the kitchen who, on closer inspection, was perhaps not quite so elderly. "Dr. Longbottom named me after Headmaster Dumbledore when he saw my eyes."

Severus, still in shock, simply nodded, allowing the precocious child to lead him towards one of the bar stools. "This is my dad, Marius Malfoy and my mother, Stella Greengrass," the child introduced before scolding her parents, "Mom, some food for Master Snape! Dad, the glass is polished enough - pour a drink for Master Snape!"

An hour later, his stomach filled with hearty stew of miscellaneous meat, crusty bread and sweet, nettle tea, Severus had never enjoyed a meal more. He had also learned a lot about his companions. While Marius had been immediately recognizable as a Malfoy, Snape was surprised to discover that he also descended from the Weasleys. Only one generation after Snape's disappearance, Scorpius Malfoy, Draco's son, had married Rose Weasley, daughter of Ronald and Hermione Granger-Weasley! He wondered how Lucius, or indeed Draco, had taken the news. Unfortunately Marius did not seem to know whether they had even lived to hear of it.

Stella Greengrass descended from a Squib son born to Daphne Greengrass in 1999, his paternity hidden then and subsequently lost to time. Daphne had sent him to live with other Squib relatives in some small town in Australia where generations of disinherited Greengrasses (and other British purebloods) had traditionally been exiled. Though shunned by their magical relatives, the pureblooded Squib Greengrasses remained devoted to all things magical and would immediately ship any wizards and witches born to them back to England.

Even centuries after magic was thought purged from the world, they had still lived in hope and sent Darius Greengrass, Stella's great-great-grandfather, back to the 'mother country' as soon as he first exhibited signs of magic at age 9. How he and his guardian, Lee Anderson, an adult Australian Squib descendant who seemed to have a special affinity with earth magic, had managed to escape detection by the authorities on their journey around the world was unknown. Nevertheless, this feat was enough that they and their descendents had gained considerable influence and power along with the Malfoys and Longbottoms of England. Severus had almost choked on his tea at that news – the descendants of Neville Longbottom as magically powerful must be fate's cruel joke. Although Dr. Longbottom turned out to be a lot more intelligent than he first appeared to be.

"There are only a few of us," Dr. Noel Longbottom explained, "and even our own families think magic is the stuff of legend. Many of the so-called resisters who follow the Cult of Severus Snape are Muggles who believe your story to be mostly myth, symbolic of the misunderstood. We have a few spies among them but we are mostly happy to let them occupy the attentions of The Administration. These are dangerous times to be magical and families are encouraged to report on each other. Only those of us with enough magic to see through the wards can come here though many have heard of the Pub's existence."

"The Malfoys have lived here for centuries since Abraxas Malfoy bought The Circus at Bath from Muggle owners and moved it here in the year 2159," Marius continued.

"In this house?" Snape interrupted; he could not imagine Malfoys living in his childhood home. His memory of Cissy and Bellatrix's visit still seemed like a bizarre bad dream and not just because of the vow he'd been forced to make.

"No. Officially we are Mark, Stella and Alice Mallory, wealthy Muggles who live next door in the attic flat at #7 The Circus at Bath. We own the entire house but Abraxas did something so that even now, centuries later, the Muggles still don't realize it. Stella is the headmistress of the local school on the first floor of #7 and Ali is a student there. Lee Anderson did something so that only a wizard or a witch can hold the head post but it is not a magical school and most of the teachers and students are Muggle. I am the director of the Visitor Centre, also thanks to Abraxas' actions in the 22nd century. Lee spent decades trying to figure it out but only managed to replicate the curse on the school before he died."

"And Fawkes used to work at the library in the basement," Ali contributed.

"Fawkes?"

The adults shifted uncomfortably and the little girl rolled her eyes.

"This is Master Snape! Of all people, we can surely tell him!" She turned to Snape and explained, "Fawkes is my older brother. He is twenty-seven and many, many years ago – it must be at least three – he vanished, kind of like you! No one remembers why he left but we can't go to the authorities because Fawkes disappeared in a restricted area in New London. He is the strongest wizard in centuries. His real name is Fred but he is known as Fawkes because as a child, he escaped from a fire by Apparating. Apparating is real! I wish I could Apparate!"

"Of course Apparating is real!" Snape snapped.

"There are only ten wands left in all of Britain and most of them were found in unexpected places like secret compartments in furniture or even once being used as a twig in a Muggle's art exhibit piece! The forty-three known wizards and witches share these wands which are kept by the strongest ten of us," Stella explained.

"But the truth is," Dr. Longbottom continued, "that most remaining wizards and witches are barely one step above Squibs. There is no formal training school like Hogwarts Academy and we have to be careful not to be seen together very often. That is why, although I live closer to Shell Cottage in Scotland which is one of the three magical meeting places in Britain – the third is in The Plains formerly known as Salisbury – I mainly visit Spinner's End. You see, I work for the wealthy Corporates who vacation around here. Since the authorities turn a blind eye to them, it's easier to hide in their shadows to escape the scrutiny."

"So, Fawkes…" Snape urged hesitantly. He did not want to upset the only magical folk he had met in this time but he couldn't help but feel that he needed to know about the mysterious Malfoy son. "You said he was the strongest magically because he could Apparate? What area of New London did he disappear from?"

Marius Malfoy sagged against the counter, as though the weight of the loss of his son was suddenly too much for him to bear. His wife gripped his hand, perhaps to give him strength, perhaps to borrow some of his, perhaps a bit of both.

"It was more than just his unique ability to Apparate at will, a magical ability we had begun to believe existed only in nostalgic myth – no one had done it in centuries! And unlike the rest of us, he could do dozens of spells every day without suffering magical exhaustion. He said that he drew magic from the earth itself and he could even use Lee Anderson's staff disguised as a walking cane instead of sharing the Malfoy family wand. He could do glamours and Notice-Me-Not spells, on his own, at any time.

"You must understand, to keep the wards up around the three magical communities, we have to work as groups at special times of the year and use blood, sex and even birth and death magic to sustain them. We do not know how the wards work, just that there are traditions which were told and tell our children must be done to keep the sites alive."

"Perhaps it was our fault, constantly praising Fawkes and challenging him to try to perform spells we had heard about in stories but…one day about four years ago," Stella continued the story, "the school and library hosted a field trip to TALAC - The Administration Library and Archive Complex in New London. Despite being one of the chaperones, Fawkes disappeared for half an hour in the Portrait Gallery, forcing me to cover for him.

"I was obviously upset but that night, when we returned home, he told me that one of the portraits spoke to him. We had heard and read about talking portraits but thought that was some sort of misunderstanding by wizards who had seen Muggle television and misunderstood. But Fawkes insisted that a portrait spoke to him. So over the next three months, magical folk from around Europe visited TALAC but the portrait spoke to no one else. We were uncertain but he's our son, you know? So we supported and tried not to doubt him as the others did.

"Until Nanette, the four year old daughter of a Muggle Corporate, claimed that the same portrait spoke to her. Fortunately, her parents dismissed it as childish imagination and her nanny, who is one of us, was able to bring the little child here. She knew things that Fawkes had shared with us and no one else. She was even able to give Fawkes a message from the portrait."

"What was the message?" Snape prodded.

"She – the portrait was of Ariana Dumbledore, sister of The Great Albus Dumbledore – asked Fawkes to return. After that he became increasingly secretive, spending untold hours in Victory Park on his own. Then one day he wished us goodbye and said he was going on a mission. He hoped to be back but he seemed unsure. We have heard nothing of him since."

Snape held Stella's hand and schooled his face into what he hoped was a reasonable facsimile of Dumbledore, The Magnanimous. He had seen the old coot use the technique often enough but was surprised when it actually worked for him. Stella looked directly at him, her mind practically throwing information at him before he had could even cast Legilimens.

He watched as she followed a boy with Weasley-red hair and pointy Malfoy features through the Spinner's End pub's kitchen and out into an enormous back garden that was not original to his childhood home. The young man, presumably Fawkes, walked through a large greenhouse and into what was likely Victory Park. The memory ended when he climbed up a tree and disappeared. Another memory quickly took its place, this time of Stella following her son up the stairs at Spinner's End and watching as he sorted several books in a bookcase. The image of the bookcase was distorted, suggesting to Snape that Fawkes' actions were masked from his mother by some sort of magic.

"Master Snape," Ali interrupted, bored with 'the moment' her mother and the Potions Master were apparently sharing. "Is it true that a werewolf tried to kill you when you were a student at Hogwarts? They say that it was an Animagus that set the werewolf after you – what is an Animagus? Is it true that you could brew a potion called Polyjuice that changed your appearance into anyone else you wanted to look like?"

Snape couldn't decide whether to be more annoyed at the child's interruption or appalled at the equally curious looks that the adults shared.

"You do not know what an Animagus is? Have you never heard of Polyjuice potion?" he asked the adults, unwilling to accept what seemed the obvious truth.

"No, we don't," Dr. Longbottom replied. "What little we know of potions comes from a notebook my ancestor Neville Longbottom transfigured into a serving tray his home while a student of yours. It was preserved until the magic finally faded away about a century ago when the tray at Shell Cottage reverted to a book. Although it, like what few magical books are occasionally salvaged, was sent to Upper Canada for safety, a few of the potions recipes were copied. Many tried them but most recipes did not work. In fact, quite a few wizards died in potions explosions. I suppose we do not have enough magic in us," he apologized, misinterpreting the look of horror on Snape's face.

"Neville Longbottom? What little is known of potions comes from LONGBOTTOM?!"

By the time that Snape left The Spinner's End Pub and Inn two hours later, he had shared a vial of uproperly made/u Pepper Up potion with his new acquaintances and a stale Canary Cream (that he had seized from some student at some point in his past and accidentally transferred to his Muggle coat). He also taught a competent Longbottom how to successfully brew a simple healing salve using herbs harvested from the Pub's kitchen garden. He obtained generous helpings of soil-grown herbs from the greenhouse, courtesy of Stella. Not to be outdone, Noel gave him the address of a Squib who lived in the same New London residential complex as Snape and baked pumpkin pasties made from real pumpkins grown in Scotland. The prices were extortionate but being a para-investigator (information he chose not to volunteer) paid well.

After much hesitation, Marius finally gave him directions to Ariana's portrait in TALAC.

"It's not that I doubt your ability to take care of yourself," he apologized, "but TALAC is filled with scholars who know your story. Even though membership in the Cult of Severus Snape is treason, there is still a large portrait of you in the Portrait Gallery wing of the complex which serves as a trap. Any adult who looks too fascinated or impressed by your story becomes the subject of interest and frequent target of harassment by junior para-investigators. Even though you are lucky to have been befriended by a Corporate sponsor, if you must go there, please be careful."

"And now it's my turn. Here," Ali interrupted, thrusting a small book in Snape's hand and looking directly into his eyes. "Fawkes gave it to me before he disappeared."

"Ali, love, are you sure you want to give it away?" her mother asked with concern. "You love that book!"

"No, I don't," Ali replied hotly, "who reads books?! I only loved it because Fawkes gave it to me before he disappeared. Plus, I already scanned it into my comm." She turned back to Snape's eyes chanting "Open it!" repeatedly in her mind. "I don't know why he wanted me to have a physical atlas of New London though. There's nothing special in there."

Snape opened the atlas and smirked as Fawkes' notes began to magically appear in the margins of the book. Clearly the boy hoped that his sister had enough magic to see what he had written and she in turn hoped that the notes wasted on her might be useful to an adult with greater autonomy.

"Severus, there you are!" Sara greeted as he joined them in the clothing store. "We were just beginning to wonder where you'd gotten to as none of us could figure out when we'd last seen you."

"I told you to stop fucking with my head, Snape," Toreth snarled.

"Toreth!" Warrick scolded, "why do you insist that he did something to us? Even you admit you saw him only a few minutes ago!"

"Except that we've been here for three hours now so it can't really have been a few minutes ago that I last saw him!"

"Ignore him, Severus," Warrick apologized, "he gets like this when he's hungry. Listen, I don't want to upset you but I don't think we'll be able to spend as much time in Victory Park as I had promised."

"I'm sorry," Sara added, "I don't know how I managed to spend so much time in here! I didn't mean to waste your day! Unfortunately, we only have the jet for another two hours so-"

"Just enough time to grab a late lunch," Toreth interrupted, "maybe have a quick stroll into Victory Park and then we need to get back on the monorail to begin the journey home."

"Or," Warrick suggested sternly, "we can find something to eat on the monorail and spend a little more time in Victory Park."

Having already enjoyed all the earth he could want in the back garden and greenhouse of Spinner's End, Severus, eager to read his new atlas and visit TALAC, could afford to be generous.

"That's quite alright, Warrick. I can be satisfied with a late lunch and a quick stroll into Victory Park. Perhaps it's because we are closer to the Visitor Center entrance but I already feel much better than I did this morning. Shall we go, Miss Lovelady?"

A/N - to anyone that read this chapter despite FFN's removal of my section markers, thank you for your perseverance! :D