Harry didn't hate Snape for the spanking. He didn't care for it, but what none of them told Hermione was that Snape didn't humiliate them by spanking them in front of each other, and it certainly wasn't a bareback spanking. Harry thanked all the gods he could think of for that! What had been oddly remarkable was that after the spanking, Snape had wiped away their tears, told them how frightened he had been for their safety, and hugged them. Ten smacks and then Snape hugged? Ron took it in stride, explaining to Harry that's what his dad always did when he or his siblings had been spanked. Draco had never been spanked by Snape, but he had been disciplined at Hogwarts by the man, and as all three could attest, the wizard had a voice that was worse than his hand. However, Draco emphasized the fact that Snape never, ever hugged his snakes so he was absolutely certain that Snape had hugged them because he really had been afraid for them, and cared about them.

On the surface, Harry didn't want to admit that there might be a side to Snape that really did worry about him, did care, and maybe even had a tiny bit of affection for him, and also for Ron, Hermione, and Draco. Deep down, he knew better. He'd gotten to know a man who was patient, who enjoyed teaching students that wanted to learn, and who could even smile and laugh around those he trusted. Harry did wonder and hope, that maybe, just maybe, Snape might even love them.

It was this hope, this desire for the family they had at Ashmere, that sent Harry's mind working so hard whenever he had a spare moment. He couldn't vocalise what he was planning since there was very little plan, but its foundation was on preserving what they had. Most of all, he didn't want to lose the Severus Snape he was just getting to know. This was a man worth having in his life, and Harry, who once had so little in the way of possessions to hang onto, knew that this was worth more than anything in the world.

Later that same evening as Harry lay in his bed pondering his thoughts of family, Snape was preparing for bed and thinking. He climbed beneath the covers of his canopied bed and cast a ball of light to hover just above his head. Rarely did Snape find himself with time in their future in which he could pursue other interests. If he wasn't busy with the mundane tasks demanded by running his Potions class properly, then it was the constant brewing of supplies for the Hogwarts infirmary. In between that came his duties for the Order, and his more onerous duties for the Dark Lord. Leisurely pursuits were a luxury he could ill afford when 'constant vigilance' was demanded.

A pleasure that had carried over from childhood to adulthood was his love of reading fiction in the comfort of his bed. It didn't matter if the author was wizard or Muggle, he enjoyed putting aside the problems of the day and getting lost in worlds outside his own. As a child, Jules Verne was a favorite author and he had spent hours imagining himself on the Nautilus fighting beside Captain Nemo, or exploring a whole new world at the centre of the Earth. As an adult, fiction, he had long ago decided, is what kept him sane.

As his duties as a spy had overtaken him, though, this pleasure had fallen by the wayside as so many others had. He gave himself the old excuse that he could not deal with the distraction. The reality was that by the time Snape crawled to his bed, it was all he could do to undress and pull a sheet decorously over his weary body.

It was a singular pleasure he had welcomed back into his life after traveling back to the past and one he very nearly let escape his grasp after the nightmare where the Headmaster subjected him to the Cruciatus Curse. When the children intervened, letting him know how much they needed him, he latched onto his bedtime reading like a lifeline.

It was hard, at first, to force the ritual. His mind was so busy on the endless research that the words on the pages of his book often did not register in his mind. In a few days, though, his mind began to accept the habit and the joy of reading; getting lost in a fictional world had returned. The stories kept the nightmares at bay, and he slept well.

The book he was settling down with this evening was the new novel by H. G. Wells, The Invisible Man, published in 1897. He had read the story as a child and he counted it as another favorite. There was a certain satisfaction in reading the story again, knowing that the distinguished author was still alive and penning his art.

For a moment, Snape lay the book down across his abdomen as his thoughts strayed from the story to a few days ago and the discussion with Lyrica over the destruction of the chandelier. There was still something strange about that interlude that stuck in his mind.

Harry, Ron, and Draco each sat primly upon the sofa in the parlour in front of a mirror Snape had brought down from one of the empty rooms and leaned against the wall. Snape had Floo called Lyrica, but as all parties needed to see and hear each other, they resorted to a Mirror call. Lyrica was in her office standing before a mirror where she could see Snape and three very contrite, silent, and ashamed boys.

"Mirror calls are difficult, so I assume this isn't a simple, social call?" she glanced at Snape, took in his business-like demeanor and did not flash the boys a smile. "What happened?"

Snape, his arms crossed over his chest, glared a silent command at them to speak and admit their crime. Draco swallowed and opened his mouth, but only managed a dry-throated squeak. He elbowed Ron, sharply, in the ribs. "Uhm! We were flying... this afternoon..."

Draco suddenly found his voice, "Didn't you tell us once that you flew in the entryway, Lyrica? Well we..."

"Draco!" snapped Snape and the boy fell abruptly silent.

"We knew it wasn't a smart idea," began Harry. "We just weren't thinking..."

King Henry's voice rumbled dangerously behind them, "Get to the point, young masters, or we shall be here the rest of the night."

"Webrokethechandelier," Harry spoke so quickly and in a quiet whisper that Lyrica hadn't quite heard.

She frowned. "You broke... what?"

"The chandelier!" shouted Draco. He clamped his mouth shut at his unexpected outburst.

There was a long, deadly uncomfortable silence wherein all they could hear was Lyrica breathing. She finally spoke, quietly. "No one was injured?" The boys all shook their heads. "Good. Go to bed, then. Harry, Ron, Draco, I'll see you three this weekend." They each muttered goodnight and Snape waved them out of the parlour. "Severus, I suppose you punished them appropriately?"

With a reluctant sigh, he settled himself on the sofa they just vacated. "A month's worth of kitchen duty, although you'll need to ask the elfs to allow them their punishment." Lyrica nodded and smiled gently. "I spanked them as well."

"I think you should have broken their brooms over their arses, Sir Raven!" declared The King thunderously.

"You wanted to stick their heads on pikes at the Tower of London, Your Majesty," sneered Snape. He had a headache from King Henry's voice railing against the boys most of the day and was getting tired of the ghost's interference.

Lyrica laughed at the two men. "I seemed to recall that my own punishment made it impossible for me to sit down for a few days!" Snape raised an eyebrow at this revelation. "Was anything salvaged from the chandelier, Severus?"

He nodded. "The silver framework and almost two hundred of the crystal drops. I used several repairing spells to fix the damage to the ceiling and the floor." Snape took a moment to put pressure on his temples. His headache was beginning to get the better of him. "I should have had those wool-headed imbeciles apologise to you, Lyrica. It's hardly enough..."

"Please, Severus, it's all right. It's more important to me that they weren't hurt. You look like you've had a trying day." He nodded. "Then you ought to go to bed, as well. I'll see you this weekend?"

A weary smile graced his features briefly. "That we shall. I'll have the boys apologise properly, then." He rose to his feet. "Goodnight, my love."

His headache had become a migraine at that point, and so he'd gone to bed, thinking only of release from the pain. However, as he thought about it now, he was puzzled over how little of a reaction Lyrica had had over the chandelier. She had told him that everything that belonged to her father, or remotely reminded her of him, she'd had removed from Ashmere. The chandelier had remained as it had been a dazzling piece of magic and design that her mother had loved. Perhaps, he thought, a material possession doesn't matter over someone she cares about, and idiots though they are, she does worry about them. He smirked wryly. As do I.

As Hermione had assured him that day, Harry, Ron, and Draco did not hate their guardian. If anything, their attitudes had improved, as had their respect toward him. Oddly enough, they also appeared more relaxed around him and he found he was spending, and enjoying, more evenings in the parlour with his family. Snape found himself pulled into their bantering and other foolishness. Draco had even taught the Potions Master how to fold Origami dragons and then charm them to fly and this evening they had spent a rather ridiculous time teamed up- Snape, Hermione and Draco versus Ron and Harry- sending their dragons around the parlour attacking each other. At one point, the teenagers joined together and set their dragons upon Snape burying him in colourful, paper.

Smiling at the memory, Snape realised that Harry had been making an effort to draw him more into their leisure activities. He and the boys were now playing Quidditch in the afternoons and sometimes exploding Snap. He'd even consented to a wretched game of Gobstones, but had sworn off the game after discovering that Draco had replaced the Gobstones foul-smelling liquid interiors with his own concocted potion that produced a variety of skin irritations. That stunt merited Draco the inventive punishment of making all of them breakfast the next day- which thankfully hadn't turned into something that punished them as Hermione had been teaching the boy to cook.

Hermione wasn't left out of their playtime, either. She did do an inordinate amount of reading in addition to the research she was still working on in regards to portgates. Although she did like to fly, she wasn't at all fond of playing Quidditch. Her preference was for card games and board games. Snape was stunned to discover that the girl was a wicked Poker player and a very astute Blackjack player. He was familiar with both games and together they had taught the boys how to play. Ron grasped the rudiments of Poker better than Blackjack, but he wasn't very good at bluffing. Harry was better at Blackjack than at Poker. He didn't have much patience for Poker. Draco was superb at bluffing which made him nearly a master at Poker and a serious contender at Blackjack. Draco and Hermione made an unbeatable team.

Picking up his book and settling himself in the comfort of his bed, he smirked at the irony of the dour Potions Master, the Bat of the Dungeons playing. There was no more doubt about it: his reputation as a fearsome git was completely ruined.

Harry was grinning and flying. Just ahead of him was the golden snitch. He was close. He stretched out his arm until his fingertips could just feel the beating of its tiny wings. Gryffindor would win the House Cup this year. Just. One. More. Inch...

"Go 'way," he muttered as he slowly lost the threads of his dream to something shaking him firmly.

"Harry! Will you wake up?" A silken voice hissed in his ear.

Harry turned and blinked blearily up into a familiar face. "Sev?"

"Harry, I've a... situation and need your assistance. At once." Snape shoved Harry's spectacles into his hand as the slowly waking boy rose to a sitting position. Harry put his spectacles on and was about to ask what the situation was when Snape handed him his dressing gown. "Accio slippers!" The boy's slippers emerged from underneath the bed just as he slid onto the floor and slipped on his dressing gown.

"What's wrong, Severus?" asked Harry. He shoved his feet into the slippers and belted his robe.

"Come with me." Snape spun away from him and out into the corridor. Harry trotted after him and followed the Potions Master down the west wing corridor and across the landing to the east wing. Snape then pushed open the door to his bedroom and ushered Harry in.

The fireplace had been stirred up and the wall sconces burned brightly. Harry's eye was immediately caught by the sight of a beautiful black and silver snake coiled up on Snape's bed.

Snape pointed briefly and then pulled his dressing gown tighter about his shoulders. "That serpent cast a spell and divested me of my wand in order to get my attention." As proof, Snape's wand could be seen coiled up in the end of the serpent's tail.

"It what?" Harry was astounded. How could snakes do magic? He wanted to ask the question, but the glare of irritation on his guardian's features told him to ask later. "What does it want?"

Snape's glare almost managed to dim the light in the room. "I'm not the one that's a Parseltongue, idiot child. Do you think you might talk to it and find out for yourself what it wants?"

"You don't have to be so nasty," Harry pouted petulantly.

Snape closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them. He sighed with the effort to remove the irritation from his voice and asked, "Please, Harry?"

Harry nodded and then stepped carefully toward the snake. "Uhm. I'm Harry. My father..." his sibilant voice faltered. He meant to say guardian, but it seemed there was no Parseltongue equivalent. The closest was father. A quick glance at Snape and then he shrugged. He was about to speak again, when the snake spoke.

"I am Kalima. I am a Naga. Tell your father sssso he undersssstandssss."

"She says her name is Kalima and she is a Naga," Harry translated. "What's a Naga?"

"A very rare and very powerful magical serpent. That explains how she was able to divest me of my wand." Snape bowed his head respectfully to the serpent and the Naga bowed hers in acknowledgement. "Ask for my wand back and find out what she wants."

Harry asked and Kalima replied. Snape listened to the hissing until Harry stopped and turned to him. "She says that you've been looking for something and will find it in Lyrica's apartment. She also said she would not usually tell the secrets of her mistress, but in this case, her mistress is wrong." The serpent then hissed and released Snape's wand. He summoned it back to his hand and slipped it into his sleeve.

Snape was extremely curious, and concerned. "Lyrica's wards are very secure. I've no chance of breaking them." he spoke quietly. "Tell her, Harry."

Once more Harry translated and listened to Kalima's reply. "Kalima says the password is 'basilisk' and that an unlocking spell will work on the lock." Harry stepped aside as the serpent uncoiled herself and slithered off the bed, across the floor and out of the bedroom. Snape beckoned Harry to follow and they both trailed after Kalima.

A narrow set of stairs on the east side of the house led to a simple door. Snape had felt the wards before and knew they were quite complex. Deep down, Lyrica's ability at setting such wards impressed him.

"Severus," whispered Harry softly as they stared at the door. "We can't do this."

Snape was in agreement with Harry. Lyrica had made it clear on more than one occasion how important her privacy was and this room, this apartment of hers was clearly off limits to all of them. Not even King Henry or the house elfs were allowed entry. "I know, Harry. I don't like this anymore than you do, but if that book I've been trying to find is in there, then I'm afraid we have a bigger problem then breaking into Lyrica's apartment."

Harry put a restraining hand on Snape's arm. "But she trusts us." Harry looked down as the serpent wound her way around his legs, up his torso and out onto the arm of the hand that rested on Snape's forearm. The older wizard, who was secretly not terribly fond of snakes, did his best to quell the shudder at the serpent's behavior. Kalima hissed.

"Kalima says there cannot be trust when there is none to break." Harry scowled in puzzlement. Snape turned sharply. He did not say anything as an unease settled itself about his heart.

A spark of flint hardened Snape's gaze and he brushed Harry's hand off his forearm. Facing the door, he whispered the password, 'basilisk'. There was a shimmer as the wards fell. A simple Alohomora and the lock clicked allowing the door to swing open. Inside the apartment, the fireplace burst into flame and the surrounding, hanging lamps holding small candles lit themselves.

Slowly and carefully, Harry and Snape stepped into Lyrica's private chamber. The Naga slithered across the floor and to the tall statue of the basilisk. Harry turned round several times, looking at everything and nearly cried out as he came face to fang with the statue.

"She really likes snakes," Harry muttered. "Do you like snakes, Severus?"

"I have a healthy wariness of them, Harry. Ask Kalima where the object I'm looking for is. I don't want to have to violate Professor Arcahnum's privacy any further."

For a brief moment, Harry glanced quizzically at Snape for reverting to Lyrica's formal title and surname. He then moved closer to the serpent and asked his question. Kalima replied and then coiled herself up until she had rested her head upon her body.

"Kalima says there is a cabinet, uhm..." he turned to the right and pointed. "Behind that screen. No wards on the cabinet but the lock is a puzzle. If you don't get the puzzle correct the first time, you'll be hit with a Stupefy spell."

Snape strode over to the screen and stepped behind it. He faced a black lacquer cabinet that stood about five feet in height. The front of it had an intricate design of dragons and serpents inlaid with mother-of-pearl, coral, jade, lapis lazuli and abalone. The puzzle wasn't obvious and Harry watched, silently, as Snape carefully studied the cabinet.

The design of serpents and dragons writhed around each other in a complicated, circular pattern and it was this pattern that Snape began to trace with his eyes. It seemed perfect, but then he found a flaw in the pattern. Two dragons were wrapped sinuously about each other when the pattern dictated that there should be a green, jade serpent twining around the blue dragon. Snape's long fingers hovered uncertainly over the pair.

"Harry, did you bring your wand?" Harry shook his head. Sighing, Snape removed his wand from his sleeve and handed it to Harry. "If I get Stupefied, reverse the spell." Before he turned back to the puzzle he glared pointedly at the boy. "As kind as 1899 has been to us, I do not want any of you ever leaving your wands behind. Keep yours near, always."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded as he took Snape's wand and stepped cautiously back slightly.

Snape lowered his fingers onto the two, intertwined dragons expecting to get hit with the spell. Instead, the design shifted to a new pattern of cherry blossom trees surrounded by a variety of birds. Again, there was a pattern to the design and Snape, who now understood the nature of the puzzle, looked for the discrepancy in the pattern. It was Harry who quietly pointed out the difference. A cherry blossom tree that was shedding mother-of-pearl petals had an extra branch upon which a coral red bird perched. Snape touched this tree and the design shifted once more. This design was a geometrical maze and was much more difficult to discern where the flaw in the pattern was.

"Harry?" asked Snape as he crossed his arms over his chest after several minutes of staring at the maze. "Can you see anything different?"

Harry shook his head and realised that Snape hadn't seen the gesture. "No, I can't see anything out of place." Staring at the maze, he stiffened. "Wait. Severus, it's a maze."

"Really?" drawled Snape. "I never would have guessed."

Harry flashed a scowl at Snape and then continued his revelation. "No, I mean, it's all in a pattern, but it's all one... uhm... route... er... thread. See?" He pointed toward the upper right of the maze. "The beginning and there, in the centre, is the end."

Snape shook his head and smiled. "Very good eye, Harry." Touching his fingertip to the beginning of the maze, Snape began to trace the complicated design. He paused at the first intersection, marked by one of four colours, lapis lazuli. He kept his finger in place as he studied the other coloured intersections. They were jade, coral, and abalone.

"Directions," said Harry as he looked at the four petaled flower at the center of the maze. "Green is north, red is south, abalone is west and blue is east."

Snape's finger traced the eastern branch and followed rapidly until he'd reached the end of the maze. The flower at the center spun once in a circle until the jade petal, which had been north, was now south. The flower split in half and the cabinet doors popped open.

Inside the cabinet were a few pieces of jewelry, small statuary, a collection of jade and ivory Chinese puzzle balls, an orrery of gold, silver, and precious gems, and one slim, worn book. Snape picked up the book, flipped it over. At one time, the title had been stamped and the letters gilded with gold. The gold had worn away over time. The title was clear enough, though. The book was Experiments With Time by Nicolas Flamel.

"Isn't that the book you've been owling book sellers about, Severus?" asked Harry softly.

Snape nodded. He was still staring at the book, wondering why it was hidden away. No, his mind hissed at him, why did SHE hide it away when she knew I was looking for it? Tucking the book into his pocket, he closed the cabinet. "Harry, do not say anything of this night to your friends."

Harry stiffened. That was a harsh, cold tone of voice he hadn't heard in months. It was from that other Snape.

"Did you hear me, Mr. Potter?"

Harry blinked and stepped backwards. Oh yes, that's the greasy git right there! "Uhm, yes, sir. Sorry. I promise, I won't say anything."

The look on Harry's face stopped Snape from issuing another order. The fragile bridge of trust the two of them had been building was being threatened. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Snape closed his eyes for a moment in order to calm himself. "Harry," he began as he purposely tried to gentle the anger that was boiling just beneath the surface. He wasn't angry with the child, but Harry obviously didn't see that. "Would you thank Kalima for me and let her know that I shall reset the wards once we leave?"

Harry just nodded and slipped around on the other side of the screen and over to the Naga. "My uhm... fath... he sssaysss to thank you, Kalima. He will put the wardssss back when we go."

Kalima rose up from her coils and swayed before Harry. "What isss wrong, little one?"

"Nothing," muttered Harry. How did the snake know that his insides had begun doing flip-flops the moment that cold, unfeeling tone of voice that Snape had often directed at him in class was disturbing him in such a way he couldn't even describe it?

"Ssspeak to me, little one, or neither of you will leave thisss room." Although the Naga kept her mouth closed, her threatening strike all too clearly underlined her meaning.

Snape saw the movement the serpent made and was between the two of them in an instant. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"Sh-she won't let us leave," he stammered.

"Why not?" He backed up sharply, pushing Harry further back as Kalima made another threatening gesture.

"He protectsss you from me, little one, but you are afraid of him?" Kalima spoke cajolingly to Harry.

"No, I'm not afraid," Harry asserted. "He jussst ssscared me." Harry glanced up worriedly at Snape. "It'sss all right. He won't hurt me. I trusssst him."

Kalima wavered and swayed a moment before replying. "You are... uncertain of him."

"It wassss... hissss voice... he hasssn't ssspoken like that in a long time." In English he bit out in frustration, "I can't explain it!"

"What's going on, Harry?" Snape asked quietly. His voice was taut with worry and he had not, yet, taken his eyes off the serpent.

The serpent spoke before Harry could reply to Snape. "He caresss, little one. My misssstresss hasss hurt him and hisss anger isss for her. Tell him he frightensss you." Harry was stunned and began to stammer but nothing coherent came forth. "Your trussst isss meaninglesss if you cannot talk to your father, child. Now ssspeak to him... or I ssshall kill him."

With that threat, Harry pushed himself in front of Snape, his hands clutching the older man's forearms. "Sir... Severus... you're not angry with me?" Snape let his gaze leave that of the Naga's and looked down upon Harry.

"I am not, but if you don't tell me what's going on, I will be." He frowned sharply as he studied the play of worry and fear crossing Harry's features.

"No! Don't!" Harry's grip tightened on his arms. "She said she'd kill you if I don't talk to you. Sh-sh-she said there's no trust between us if I can't talk to you. Kalima can sense that... your voice... I thought... you just scared me, sir." Snape dropped down to one knee so he could look into the child's eyes. "It just felt like you hated me again," he whispered.

Snape's hand cupped Harry's cheek and he shook his head slightly. "I never hated you, Harry, and I never shall."

Harry took a deep breath and then began to speak softly, "I k-know you don't hate me. I don't think that. Not anymore. And, I know, all the... the stuff... in Potions... I mean, I get it. Now. It was an act, but it hurt. It still does." Harry was momentarily startled by the brief shadow of regret that crossed Snape's features. He gaped, once or twice, and then he grasped Snape's hands in his. "What I'm trying to say," he continued, though more slowly and deliberately, "is that, I trust you, now. I'll always trust you whether we stay here, or go back to our time. If you have to be... m-mean again, I'll know you're only protecting me... us. Ron, Hermione, and Draco. Just, please, don't become that other Snape."

Snape gently removed his hands from Harry's grip. Harry stood in front of him, shoulders drooped, as though ready for the Potions Master to rebuke him. Or, make fun of him. Harry's gaze suddenly wavered, and his eyes dropped to study his slippers intently. Snape's hand cupped his chin and raised his head. Harry was astonished and pleased to see that Snape was smiling. It wasn't a huge smile. Harry doubted the man's facial muscles were designed for a huge grin, but it was a simple smile filled with warmth and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I promise you, Harry, that 'other' Snape is never coming back. I did not mean to frighten you the way I did just now."

Before he could chicken out, Harry wrapped his arms around the older man and hugged him. He felt the embrace being returned and reveled in the feeling of comfort before pulling away.

Thank you, Harry." That was all that Snape said and it was enough.

"Sssincere, child. Very good," hissed Kalima. As she rested her head upon her coils, the door of the apartment drifted open.

Snape touched Harry's back and guided him to the door. Side by side they walked back to Harry's room in companionable silence. Harry climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. To his surprise, the back of Snape's fingers brushed affectionately over his cheek as the older man whispered goodnight. As Snape closed Harry's door, the child smiled in the darkness. It seemed the 'bat of the dungeons' was no more.