The Dream Trilogy Book 3: What Dreams May Come

by Helen Jay

COMPLETE. Everyone is lost. The boundaries between worlds are crumbling and dreams are rapidly turning into nightmares. Will Harry and his friends find the strength to save everything they hold dear, or will darkness claim them all forever?

2. Chapter One: Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

A/N 19-09-14: Right, from here on out the chapters start getting much, much longer, so don't say you weren't warned! Although there will still be the usual seven chapters as well as prologue and epilogue, I will most likely split chapters six and seven up to make them a bit less daunting. Chapter seven alone is 70,000 words. To put that in perspective, The Philosopher's Stone is 77,000 words. So brace yourselves, it's "Go hard, or go home!"

Let's find out what happened to our intrepid reality hopers, shall we?

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Chapter One -

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

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I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Were the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk alone
I walk alone, I walk alone

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I'll walk alone

xxx

Greenday

xxx

She was almost certain, as far as she could tell, that this was what death must feel like. It was dark and cold, and frightfully alone. For what seemed like a very long time all she was really aware of was the throbbing inside her skull, the pounding in her brain, and nothing else had any meaning whatsoever. Limbs seemed miles away, tongue like sandpaper scraping on concrete, eyes like bottomless pits of darkness. It wasn't great.

After a time though, the murkiness began to clear. It wasn't like the darkness lessened, but more rather everything else started to come back to her. Hermione wasn't sure how long it took her to remember that was her name, or why she was struggling to remember it in the first place, but it made her feel a good deal better when she did.

It was a good job she did, because when somebody called out "Hermione?" she was able to appreciate that they meant her. She also became aware her shoulder was being shaken; her fingers flexed out in response, her eyelids squeezed together and a moan escaped the back of her throat.

"Hermione are you okay?" said the girl's voice. "Wake up, you're scaring us."

She didn't know who was speaking, or if she did she couldn't remember at that moment with her eyes still firmly shut. There was something else snagging at her thoughts though, pulling her mind backwards. A vision of a classroom swam around in her brain, and of performing a spell. For a moment that jarred her train of thought, loose as it was, before she remembered that magic was a part of her everyday life. Though perhaps it hadn't always been?

"Hermione," hissed the girl. "Madam Pince is going to find us and tell us off! Wake up!"

Hermione managed another groan, and heard a second girl say. "I think she's coming round." That was all the warning Hermione received before she was slapped good and hard across the face.

"Yargh!" she shrieked as her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright, causing the two girls who had been talking to rock backwards to avoid smacking heads. "Shh! Shh!" hissed a mousy haired girl, holding her finger in front of her lips. "She'll deduct points from Gryffindor!"

"And Ravenclaw," added a plump black girl massaging her hand where, Hermione could only guess, she had just hit her. The black girl had a beautiful round face, with big glossy lips and a fat afro tamed back with a multicoloured headband.

"Lisa Turpin," said Hermione slowly, as the names popped into her brain to match who she was seeing. "And...Lavender Brown." The two girls looked at each other.

"Yeah," said Lavender, unsure. "You alright?"

"What happened?" Hermione looked about her. She was sat in the middle of a library stack, several books littered around her and the other girls where it looked like they'd been dropped. She inwardly winced and automatically reached over and picked a volume that was open on its spine to close it and rest it on the carpet again.

They were in Hogwarts, her school, it was all coming flooding back to her now. She loved this place, she always felt safe and reassured here. So why was there a raging sense of uneasiness growing in her stomach.

"You fainted," said Lavender, her eyes wide. "Mid-sentence. You were telling us what you'd done for your charms homework, how you managed that levitation spell already."

"Levitation spell?" said Hermione, pulling her eyes away from the stacks (they were in the beginners Charms section). "That's a first year spell?"

"No need to rub it in," said Lisa with a light Bristol accent, standing up and offering her hand out for Hermione to take. Hermione wasn't sure if she'd even heard her speak before, she'd had that little to do with the Ravenclaw girl. Why would she and Lavender Brown hanging out in the library with her, talking about spells they could do in their sleep?

Hang on, she thought as she took Lisa's hand and let herself be pulled to her feet. She hadn't been in the library.

"I was in the History of Magic classroom, the old one..." but at that she broke off, as she tried to steady herself on her feet. She was wearing a pair of heeled boots she'd never seen before in her life. Her jeans were extremely tight and sitting far too low on her hips, and the combination of the two made it so hard to balance she had to keep a hold of Lisa for support.

"No," said Lavender sweetly, shaking her head. "We've been here for a while, maybe that's where you were before though and the fall made you lose a bit of memory?" She creased her forehead. "We should get you to the nurse, what's her name again?"

"I don't need to see Pomfrey," said Hermione sharply, even as she swooned again and her head pulsated with every heartbeat. "I was doing a spell, with Harry, and Ron-"

"Harry Potter?" said Lisa, interrupting her. "Doubt that very much."

"Who's Ron?" said Lavender. And it was this that finally made Hermione's blood really run cold.

"Ron Weasley," she said carefully, her thoughts suddenly becoming very clear. She had been doing a spell with the boys, but there were two other people there too. Draco Malfoy, and Harry's sister. A girl from another reality.

"Is he one of the original students?" asked Lavender encouragingly. "I haven't met many of them yet."

Hermione still felt like her tongue was as dry as a bone as she ran it over her teeth. "You've...you've had a crush on him for about a year."

Lavender raised her eyebrows at Lisa. "Is he good looking?"

Hermione let go of Lisa and grabbed a shelf on the stack to support her instead. Her feet weren't hurting in the boots, but she had never worn heels like this and had no idea how to steady herself properly. Plus her head felt like she'd just been in a washing machine for the past several hours.

"How long was I out?" she croaked, realisation dawning on her with horrifying certainty.

The girls shrugged. "Maybe five minutes," said Lisa. Hermione looked at her polished nails, the foreign jewellery, the binding top and floaty sleeves. There was something heavy around her neck too, and when she held it out she could see it was an old key, polished and secured on a silver chain.

"Oh no," she uttered, feeling her head go light again. Harry said he was out for several hours when he crossed over to Draco's world, then Draco and Sarah for about an hour when they come to her universe. Did that mean...?

"No," she said again, more panicked. "No, no it's not possible, we were sending them back, the spell was perfect, no – I – no-"

"Hermione," said Lisa, taking her by the shoulders. "Calm down, you're fine, everything's okay."

She thought she was going to be sick. She'd never been so scared in her entire life, the fear was paralysing. She was trapped, stranded in a foreign reality, with no way to contact home, no way to send for help.

Or maybe there was? Wasn't that what they been doing, trying to send Draco and Sarah home – maybe she'd got caught in the wake of the crossover, maybe Ron and Harry both had. They could use the same spell to get home again.

"Do you know where Harry is?" she asked the two bewildered looking girls. They looked even more bewildered after that.

"Harry...Potter?" asked Lavender slowly. Hermione nodded. "Why on Earth would you want to find him, we've spent the last week practically hiding from him."

"Something's changed," said Hermione breathlessly, scooping up what she assumed to be her bag from the floor. "I need to find him immediately."

Lisa shrugged. "Okay, but don't say we didn't warn you. He's actually on one of those tables at the back." She barely had time to point before Hermione was off, shaky but determined in what she now accepted to be her doppelganger's boots. Another universe, another reality. The part of her that didn't want to run around screaming in terror was absolutely enthralled.

She only stacked twice on her heels on her way to the back of the library, but both times she was able to grab onto a desk or a shelf to stop her slamming into the carpet. Why on Earth would her counterpart choose to wear such ridiculous things? Harry had said she was very similar to herself, perhaps even more introverted. What could of possessed her to put on such impractical footwear?

She was so caught up in musing about her doppelganger's psychology, that she surprised herself when she rounded a corner and came face to face with Harry Potter, Parvati Patil and Terry Boot. Parvati was sat next to Harry, her legs crossed towards him as she leant over his work. Terry had his back to her, but as the other two raised their heads he turned around to face her.

The atmosphere was chilly to say the least.

"What do you want Granger?" asked Harry coldly, and Hermione felt a twist in her insides. Her hope that Harry and Ron had been caught in the wake too didn't seem very likely with that look of contempt on his face.

"Granger?" she repeated weakly.

Parvati flicked her pony tail. "That is your name, isn't it?"

Hermione blinked. "Um...I guess."

"So what do you want?" said Harry, slightly louder. "Unless your boyfriend's miraculously popped back up and un-kidnapped my sister you can bloody well jog on."

She frowned and looked at all three of them. Harry and Parvati were scowling, but Terry merely frowned, regarding her from behind frameless glasses. She knew this Ravenclaw about as much as the one that had just slapped her across the face. They'd done a transfiguration experiment together once, but in five years at school that pretty much summed up their relationship. And Harry...well there was no doubt that this was not her Harry. She'd never seen such a look on his face before towards anyone, let alone her.

"My boyfriend?" she repeated. She knew there were more pressing matters at hand, but she wasn't wholly convinced what to tell and what to conceal yet, so she might as well get her bearings.

Parvati rolled her eyes and sneered. "Trying to deny it now he's shown his true colours? You knew he betrayed the school, and now he's disappeared with Sarah and it's all your fault."

Hermione closed her eyes, then opened them. "Are you talking about Draco?" she said in disbelief. Well, now that kiss certainly made a little more sense.

Harry clenched his fists. "Oh go away," he snapped. "We haven't got time for your little games. When the Ministry finds my sister your snakey boy toy is going to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban, my dad will make sure of it."

Hermione knew it was entirely inappropriate, but she laughed. It did not placate Harry's mood.

"I SAID-" he cried, but Hermione composed herself in a flash.

"Draco Malfoy has not kidnapped Sarah," she hissed, slamming her hands down on the table beside Terry Boot. "He's been protecting her with every last ounce of strength he has this past week." She looked Harry up and down. "He was right about you."

Harry had stood up and knocked his chair back. His face was very white. "Do you know where she is?" he uttered in a small voice. Parvati's mouth was hanging open, Terry was still watching on in fascination.

Hermione stood up and straightened her clothes, keeping her balance thankfully on the boots. She sighed and rubbed her head. "Well, I knew where they were, but I'm getting a horrible feeling the spell didn't work properly."

"What are you talking about?" said Terry, narrowing his eyes.

"What spell," said Harry.

She looked at the three of them. "Am I correct," she began addressing Harry. "That last November your body was taken over by another version of yourself, a different Harry?"

Panic swept over Harry and Parvati's face. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. By now the only person who was still sitting was Terry, and his eyes moved from Harry and Parvati on one side of the table, to Hermione on the other. Harry and Parvati seemed to be switching between ignoring the Ravenclaw and looking horrified at him.

Hermione though had no doubt that this Harry did know what she was talking about, even if Terry didn't. And at this point, she didn't care if he knew or not. "I can't help you if you mess me around," she said disapprovingly. "You were briefly replaced by the Harry Potter of my world, then last week, for some unknown reason, Draco Malfoy and your sister were thrown from this reality into mine where they have remained ever since."

"That's," spluttered Parvati. "That's totally insane, I don't know what-"

But Harry interrupted her. "What are you talking about," he snapped. "Do you know where Sarah is?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, unmoved. This Harry Potter wasn't all that nice, despite his apparent concerns. "We just tried to do the spell to send them both back here, but something must have gone wrong because I'm now here."

Harry looked at Parvati, then back to Hermione. Terry seemed to have been completely forgotten. "You...tired to send them home?"

Hermione gave a long shrug. "They could be here for all I know," she said honestly. "They'd be in the Old History of Magic classroom-"

It was like her words lit him up with electricity. With one swift motion, his belongings were violently swiped into his satchel, and he was sprinting for the door before Hermione had time to draw breath.

"Harry wait!" cried Parvati, doing likewise with her stuff, charging down through the stacks and heading along the library to a chorus of 'shhs'. Hermione turned to go after them, but Terry Boot caught her arm as she turned. She looked down at him.

He eyed her up for a second. "I'm sorry," he said measuredly. "But – what?"

Hermione looked anxiously after the two Gryffindors that, from the sounds of the banging doors, had already left the library. "I really should go after them," she said, edging along. Terry waved a hand and began clearing up his things and putting them sensibly into his rucksack.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he said. His accent was subtle and Hermione wasn't sure where to place it, somewhere up north certainly, perhaps Manchester, or Yorkshire. When he stood he was taller than her, not as tall as Ron but probably Draco's height. "You can explain on the way."

"I'm not sure," she said as they strolled out of the study section and back into the main library. "What do you know about it?"

"That Harry supposedly defeated You-Know-Who last November," replied Terry matter-of-factly. "But he never wants to talk about it, ever." Hermione saw Lavender and Lisa gawping at them as they walked past, but she didn't have the energy to explain to them other than to give a little wave. "Then last Sunday we – you, me, Ziggy and Parv – are having this argument about it, how it wasn't fair and about Seamus Finnigan. And I mean Harry was screaming at you, you told us to stop, then boom! We're all knocked to our feet."

Hermione threw an apologetic look to Madam Pince for the noise as they left the library, then thought about what Terry had said. "Ziggy?"

"Yeah," said Terry. "You know, Harry."

Hermione blinked. "Why'd you call him Ziggy?"

Terry pulled a face. "Well," he said, matter-of-factly. "I suppose technically I should call him Aladdin Sane, but that's a bit of a mouthful, isn't it?"

That didn't mean anything to Hermione, but she decided to get back to the issue at hand. "Then what happened?" she said. "After the explosion?"

Terry held a door open for her as they quickly walked up to the old History of Magic Classroom. "Nothing we thought, but then Harry couldn't find Sarah, then Blaise Zabini said Malfoy was missing and a manhunt began. But they'd vanished, there's no trace of them."

Hermione groaned. "Where did you guys have this argument, it wasn't anywhere near the old History room was it?"

Terry rubbed the woolly beanie on his head. "Yeah," he said after a minute. "Now you mention it, I think we were directly above it."

Hermione sighed, allowing herself a small amount of relief. "Oh Harry, Harry," she tsked. She might have been cross, smug even, if the situation wasn't so horrible.

They began up a flight of stairs. "What is it you know then?" Terry prompted, shifting the bag on his shoulder. "What were you talking about back there?"

"That wasn't your Harry that defeated You-Know-Who last November," she explained. "It was mine. He accidently crossed over from our reality to yours, and then..." she flung her hands out to illustrate the carnage that was what happened in Germany.

Terry narrowed his eyes. "What?" he said simply.

"Alternate realities, parallel universes," said Hermione. The notion was too common place to her now to give it the grandeur it probably deserved. "Different worlds branching off for every significant decision made."

Terry inclined his head. "You know that's nuts, right? "

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "He says whilst standing in a magic school?"

"That's not the same," he argued. "That's a reasonable amount of nuts, it's not so hard to understand there are things in the world that you don't know about. It's a whole," he said, elongating the word. "Other ball game to expect me to believe that people can just hop from one universe to another."

"Well they're not supposed to," said Hermione irritably. "It's caused a serious amount of problems!"

"Like you being here?" suggested Terry with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione threw her hands up them slapped them back down on her thighs. "You don't believe me? Fine. But you guys arguing was what caused Draco and Sarah to jump realities, it's your fault this all happened. And we just tried to send them back but I think I got caught up with them so now..." she rubbed her eyes and they came away silvery. She stopped and stared at them.

Terry rolled his eyes. "You just smudged your make-up," he said, licking his thumb and rubbing the side of her face. She stared at him until he was done. "Shall we?" he asked, indicating they should start walking again.

"So...now," she carried on. "I'm stuck here and it's horrendous."

"I deeply apologise," said Terry, holding open another door. "That our parallel universe is so unaccommodating to you."

"Oh shut up," griped Hermione. "We're here."

In fact they were still down the corridor from the old History classroom, but Harry and Parvati were already walking back to meet them. "There's no one there," said Parvati in a slightly accusing tone."

Hermione felt her heart sink a little. "Maybe they already left?"

Harry, who had been looking downcast too, perked up. "She probably went to the common room." He spun on his heels and started off towards the Gryffindor tower.

"Now wait just a minute here," said Terry, catching up to him. "You have got some explaining to do."

"We can't," snapped Parvati as she fell into step, leaving Hermione to keep up behind. "Ministry's orders."

"Too late," said Terry with a grin. "Herm's already told me all about the alternate universe stuff."

Harry and Parvati stopped in their tracks and glared at Hermione. She couldn't help but shrink away a little. "You're just like him," sneered Harry. "Thinking you can come over here, mess around with peoples' lives. We didn't tell him for a reason, it's been KILLING me!"

"Whoa," said Terry, all humour gone from his tone. "Whoa, mate, calm down, I was kidding-"

"Well we're not," hissed Parvati. "We were sworn to secrecy, I couldn't even tell my sister, and you show up and start blabbing! You're just like the other Hermione – it's none of your business!"

"Guys, are you serious?" asked Terry in a small voice, but anger was bubbling out of Hermione.

"None of my business!" she shrieked. "This is your fault! Terry told me where you lost your temper, that you were screaming about Harry taking over your body, it was over the old History of Magic classroom, right where Sarah and Draco were standing! YOU sent them to my reality, and the thanks I get for trying to send them back is to get stuck here myself!"

She took a deep breath and clenched her shaking fists.

"No," stammered Harry. "No I don't believe you."

Hermione huffed. "I don't care if you do or not, that's what happened."

Harry looked at Parvati. "Then, why didn't we go through, if I was the one-?"

"Because the Dimensional Hotspot is outside that classroom, they would have been sucked through once it opened regardless of how it happened."

Harry looked gutted, Parvati peeved, like it was still somehow Hermione's fault. Terry, despite being the tallest of the group, looked diminished. "You're not joking, are you?" he said.

Harry shook his head. "No, she's really telling the truth," he said staring at the floor. "Another Harry took my place, did all that stuff, got Seamus killed-"

"He did not!" interrupted Hermione fervently. "He begged Seamus and Parvati not to come, and tried everything he could to save Seamus."

"You weren't there," growled Harry.

"Neither were you!" fired back Hermione.

"He had no business," shouted Parvati. "Manipulating us like that!"

"ENOUGH!" shouted Terry. The other three stopped and looked at him. "We can play the blame game all morning, or we can go and see if Sarah and Malfoy have gone back to your common room, agreed?"

Parvati took Harry's hand. "Sorry Terry," she mumbled.

"Are you saying you believe us?" asked Harry. Terry threw up his hands.

"Hey," he said with raised eyebrows. "I kept begging you to tell me, you almost did last week, and now it seems like for the first time in a year someone is willing to give me some answers." He shrugged at Hermione. "We do go to a magic school, who am I to say what's beyond the realms of possibility?"

xxx

Ron Weasley did not feel very well at all. His head was throbbing and his mouth tasted of blood. Bright light was beaming onto his closed eyelids begging them not to open, and his left elbow stung.

"Ron?"

Someone unfamiliar was calling his name as he swam back into consciousness. He wasn't sure how long he'd blacked out for, but he almost didn't care. He didn't want to have to face any more trouble after what had just happened at the Ministry. He'd rather just go back to sleep.

Why was he asleep though, he thought suddenly as his senses came back to him. What had just happened?

"C'mon Ron buddy, wake up!"

He really had no idea who the voice could belong to, it certainly wasn't Harry or any of his brothers. Even Dean Thomas or Seamus Finnigan he was sure he would have recognised. He felt his eyes flick from side to side under their lids, preparing themselves for what would happen when the beaming light on the other side finally reached them. Even the thought of it made his head hurt more.

"Do you think we should call someone?"

"Who?" asked a second person. Ron was pretty sure they were both male. There was something strange about their voices though, something about the way they spoke which wasn't sounding quite right to him.

"I dunno dude," said the first voice. "But he's not wakin' up, what do you think?"

In response, Ron let out a cross between a moan and a growl. He was aware he was lying on concrete and it was really starting to become uncomfortable.

"Hey Ron," said the second voice, and he felt hands gently shake his shoulder. "You in there?"

"Bloody Hell," croaked Ron through dry lips, and slowly, he blinked his eyes and forced himself into a sitting position. "What's going on?"

When his vision returned fully he could see two teenage boys crouching over him, looking down in concern. He had no idea who either of them were.

Panicked, he looked at where he was sitting and realised with even more dread he didn't know where that was either. It was like a large concrete rectangle with coloured lines painted on it and a chain metal fence running round the perimeter. There were lots of people standing around, a lot of them looking at Ron. To the left was a field with more people on, running around and generally enjoying the sunshine, and to the right a road with Muggle cars on. The sky was azure blue and cloudless, and the air was warm with a taste of humidity to it. Ron did his best to steady his breathing.

In front of him the two boys were still watching on, their hands on their knees looking at him with genuine worry lining their facial features. One of them, a lad with light blond hair, bronze skin and his t-shirt tucked into the back of his shorts thus affording a very good look at his toned torso, was holding an orange ball, slightly bigger than a quaffle. The other boy was black with extremely short hair, wearing a navy t-shirt and beige knee length shorts. He reached out and took Ron's shoulder.

"Hey Ron, you feeling okay?" It was the second voice, though the knowledge didn't bring him much comfort. He really had no idea if he was okay or not. He was sitting outside on a concrete rectangle when he had been standing in a classroom. Had someone moved him, had performing the spell somehow knocked him out?

The black boy took his hand and pulled him shakily to his feet, and the people who had been staring slowly went back to throwing their own orange balls at each other, bouncing them off the concrete and occasionally aiming them into a hoop suspended several feet off the ground.

Ron shook his head and tried to ease the terrible headache.

"What's going on?" he asked again blearily, rubbing his eyes and trying to grasp what was really happening around him.

"We were playing and you collapsed," said the black boy simply.

"You went down man," added the other boy helpfully, spinning the ball between his hands. "Like a tree being chopped."

"We might need to get you to the hospital," carried on the black boy, ignoring his friend. Ron ignored them both. He had not been playing any game, that was for sure.

He had been at school and they were doing a spell. Slowly the details came back to him. They had being trying to help Malfoy, but he wasn't really Malfoy. He was a different Malfoy. That did and did not make sense to him at the same time, but then he remembered there was a girl as well. She knew Harry somehow.

"Parallel Universe!" he suddenly said to the two boys looking at him, and this caused them to look even more confused than they had been before. "God damn Draco bloody Malfoy!" he ranted and started to pace. "We tried to send them back – to their world – they must have sent me..." He trailed off. Did that make sense?

"Definitely time for the ER," said the black boy, much calmer than his face looked. Ron shook his head, the pain slightly better.

"I don't want to go to a hospital," he insisted. "I need to talk to someone…anyone." He had to find Harry and Hermione. At this rate, he'd be happy to see Draco Malfoy again. If only to hit him.

"Hey, no worries, no worries," said the blond boy, still spinning the ball between his hands. "No hospital, you can talk to us about anything." The black boy didn't look convinced but he didn't say anything.

Ron pressed his fingers into his temples. I don't even know who you are, he thought angrily. But the other boy solved his dilemma for him.

"Hey Chris," he said quietly, "how bout you grab your keys and we run him home?"

The blond boy, Chris apparently, smiled in relief and threw the ball into the black boy's waiting hands. "Yeah alright, " he said happily. "Molly will know what to do." He ran off to where a pile of belongings were and scooped them all up. Ron looked down at himself for the first time and saw he was wearing knee length shorts, a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and a kind of hat with a peak at the back of his head. He yanked it off and saw a tick emblazoned on what would actually be the front. The black boy laughed.

"Woah, don't take that off, you're brains might fall out," he joked, and stuffed the hat back on Ron's head, backwards like it had been before. It hurt but Ron grimaced and said nothing.

He had jumped to a parallel universe, just like Harry had done, that had to be it. He'd swapped bodies and these boys thought they knew him. Something must have gone wrong when he and the others had tried to send Sarah and Malfoy home.

"Bugger," said Ron, and lent on his bare knees. He was in big, big trouble.

The blond boy, Chris, ran back over and threw a jumper with a hood on to each of his companions. "Let's do it!" he said in an over excited voice and smacked Ron on the back in what he obviously thought was a friendly gesture. Ron gritted his teeth again.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked. "I – I don't think I should move." He remembered how the letter he and Hermione had sent to Harry in the parallel universe before had arrive at the point where he'd crossed over. The black boy looked at Chris.

"Home," he said simply.

Ron looked around again. "But...I don't live anywhere near here?"

The black boy blinked. "Definitely the ER," he said simply. The other boy though, Chris, smacked him on the back the way he had done to Ron.

"Nah man, let's just get him back to Molly, she'll fix him up!"

Ron considered them both. It didn't seem like they intended him any harm, they apparently knew his family, or his mother at least, and right now he'd give anything to see a friendly face. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "Okay."

They walked over to an old but pretty cool looking convertible, it was a burgundy colour that would have clashed horribly with Ron's hair if it hadn't have been hidden under the hat. Ron got in the front by the driver's seat; it took him a moment to realise it was the wrong way round.

"Why's your car backwards?" he asked before thinking. The black boy gave him another strange look as he slid into the back, but Chris pretended to look outraged.

"Hey, no bad mouthing my baby! Rule number one me compadre."

Ron shook this off and pulled his seat belt on, choosing to hold onto the jumper he'd been given rather than wear it. It was even hotter than he remembered it being over the last few days, but he still heard the old familiar rumble of thunder in the background.

It didn't take long to get where they were going. Chris stopped the car on the pavement by what could only be described as an enormous house on a clean and tidy road filled with houses of the exactly the same size. Ron didn't move.

"This…this is my house?" he stammered. It was just so…well, posh. The black boy leaned forward to look at Ron.

"Just how hard did you hit your head?"

"And why the Hell are you talking like James Bond?" asked Chris as he grabbed the keys from the ignition and jumped out the car.

Ron nervously licked his lips, his tongue still sore from when he bit it before. He wanted to ask who James Bond was but he didn't trust himself to open his mouth. He suddenly didn't know if he wanted to go inside, who knew what he might find? But the other two were already striding ahead so Ron had no choice but to follow.

Chris was in the process of putting on the t-shirt that had been tucked in the back of his shorts; it read 'East County High Football Team' with a picture of a raging bull, and made Ron think of Dean Thomas with his West Ham posters. Once dressed, Chris bowled through the front door as if it were his own house, and the black boy did the same. Ron crept in afterwards, the least confident of the three. He stepped into the spacious hallway, and was relieved to be greeted with some of that familiar Weasley clutter; ornaments, welly boots, newspapers. There was something that didn't feel right though.

He was soon distracted by the sight of his sister running down the staircase. Her red hair streamed out behind her, but what caught Ron's attention first was the tartan skirt that barely reached her thighs, followed by the white knee length socks, blouse with one too many buttons undone, far too much make up and mobile phone attached to her ear.

"Ginny what on Earth are you wearing?" he spluttered and his two companions turned to look at him. Ginny stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"It's called school uniform. And what's with the voice?"

She carried on to the front door, phone still at her ear. She swung round just as she pulled it open and addressed her brother again.

"And nobody calls me Ginny. Freak." She waltzed out, slamming the door. Ron turned mutely to look at the other two boys, and Chris was shaking his head.

"Dude," he said, reproachfully. "Nobody calls her Ginny."

"Christopher, Alexander James?" called a voice from somewhere in the house. Chris broke into a smile and nudged the other boy in the ribs before running off in the direction of the voice. The black boy, Alexander James, rolled his eyes and followed. Ron did the same.

They entered the kitchen where Molly Weasley, Ron's mum, was baking about a million cakes, all covered in different icing with different flavours and fillings. She was wearing pink shorts, a cream t-shirt with a kitten on the front and orange flip-flops. Ron wasn't sure he'd even seen his mum wearing so little and he was momentarily embarrassed; no matter how hot it got, he'd never seen her without at least a cardi. But then, the air was so close and humid outside it wasn't all that surprising. He himself didn't even own shorts anymore, but his counterpart seemed happy enough wearing them.

At present Molly seemed to be stirring an impossibly chocolaty mixture, occasionally throwing in handfuls of white chocolate chips. "Hello boys," she said cheerfully, pushing hair out of her face and wiping even more cake mixture about her person. "These are for Ginevra's class something-or-other," she shrugged her shoulders causing a little cloud of icing sugar to rise off them. "There's more than enough if you'd like a few."

It would probably have been a very comforting sight to Ron, but there was again just something wrong with the scene that was making him nervous.

"Thanks Molly you're the best," chirped Chris and grabbed the nearest blue cupcake. "A.J. and I just rescued Ron from a fight with the basketball court," he said through a mouthful of cake.

A.J. rolled his eyes again as he reached for a cake himself. "Ron collapsed is all," he assured Molly, who had suddenly looked very alarmed. "He said he didn't want to go to hospital so we thought the best option was to bring him home. Great cake by the way."

"Mm, great cake," agreed Chris, half way through his second.

Ron, unusually, had lost his appetite. He had realised what was bothering him. There was no magic evident in this room whatsoever. No charms doing the washing up, the mirror was stubbornly reflecting exactly what was in front of it and the clock just had twelve boring numbers on it. And to make matters worse his mum was talking in the strange way his sister had too. She bustled over to him.

"Oh let me take a look at that elbow," she said concerned, but Ron backed away.

"I'm fine mum," he lied, not wanted to be fussed over.

"Nonsense dear," she said firmly. "I can see where the blood ran down your arm, just let me-"

"Mum I said I'm fine!" he snapped. He didn't mean to yell at her, but he was starting to lose what little grasp he had on reality. Nothing he was seeing was giving him any answers; in fact it was only giving him more questions. Molly stopped and put her hands on her hips.

"Why are you talking like that Ron?" she asked, not exactly cross but her tone no longer warm either.

Ron finally lost his temper and flung his arms out in exasperation, almost hitting a stack of mini bakewells. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he cried. "I'm talking normally, it's everyone else who's gone mental!"

A.J. frowned. "He sounds…British."

Ron rubbed his forehead again. "That's because I AM British! Why the Hell wouldn't I be?"

"You've never been before?" questioned A.J., putting down the cake he was about to bite into.

Ron rubbed his eyes. "I have been my whole life, thank you very much. What else could I possibly be?" Some detached part of his brain was working on an intricate plan to dismember Draco Malfoy.

Molly looked very ill, and stared mutely at her son. But Chris seemed to think he was being had. "No," he said grinning. "No you've been American, I'd have noticed if you hadn't."

Now it was Ron's turn to stare, horror welling up inside him. American, that was the accent. "Are we in America?"

A.J. frowned. "Yes," he said slowly.

"Where, where exactly?" Ron asked. He had almost no concept of American geography, but he needed to at least try and put a name to it.

"I told you we should have taken him to the ER," said A.J. again.

Chris licked the icing off his fingers and perched on the edge of the table. "Dude are you serious?" he asked, waving his hand in front of Ron's face. He swatted him away.

"Yes I'm serious!" he cried. "What town are we in?"

"Cleveland," said Molly softly. "Ohio."

Ron didn't feel any better. "Is that a big town?"

His mother suddenly wiped her hands on her apron, whipped it off and grabbed a set of keys. "Hospital, now," she barked to the other boys.

"No!" said Ron, stepping away from them. "A Muggle hospital won't help!"

The two boys looked confused at each other, but Molly froze like a statue, the car keys swinging from her fingers. "What did you say?" she whispered after what felt like a minute of silence. Ron shifted his feet uncomfortably.

"I don't want to see any medics," he said. "They won't help, trust me."

She managed to give her head the tiniest of shakes. "No," she whispered. "What was that word you used?"

He frowned at her. "What – Muggle?"

Molly sucked in a loud breath of air. "Christopher," she said, turning on her heels. "Alexander James, I'm afraid you're going to have to excuse us."

"But-" said Chris.

"Right now!"

The two boys looked at one another. Chris picked up his own car keys from the table, grabbed one last cupcake, and the two of them headed out of the kitchen, closing the door behind them.

"Where did you hear that word?" hissed his mother, a look of terror in her eyes as she threw her keys back on the window sill. Now it was Ron's turn to be confused.

"What – Muggle? It's just a word, why wouldn't I know it?"

"You've never known it until today, so you must have heard it somewhere," Molly cried, sitting down at the table with a thump. She was wringing her hands and looked very distressed. Ron frowned. He was making things worse, but he didn't know how else to react. He desperately wanted Harry and Hermione to walk through the door and just fix everything.

"I'm really sorry mum I...I didn't mean to upset you," he mumbled.

"Stop talking like that," she snapped, rubbing her hands on a tea towel, trying to get most of the icing off.

"Well how am I supposed to talk," he snapped back.

"Like normal!" she cried, flinging down the tea towel. He rubbed his temple, wishing the head ache would ease up.

"Right," he said, deciding just to come clean. "Here's what happened. I was at Hogwarts and Harry activated a Dimensional Hotspot which was supposed to send Malfoy and Sarah home, but I'm thinking it maybe didn't work."

Molly had frozen, staring at her son. "What did you say?"

Ron wasn't very good at explaining things sometimes, but he carried on anyway. "I'm from another reality, and now I need to get home, like, with a spell or something. Why isn't there any magic in the house?"

"Shh!" said Molly, instantly jumping up and closing the window. "Don't say that word."

"It's just a w-" Ron began to say for the second time but she cut him off.

"It is not just a word Ronald!" she yelled sitting back down a wagging her finger at him. "There is none of it in this house and there never will be, you shouldn't even know about it!"

Ron swallowed, trying to get his thoughts in order. "But why, why not?" Her face turned to thunder, and Ron felt panicky. "Please, I'm not having you on, if you know about…about the 'M' word, then can you accept it's a possibility I'm not from this reality." He realised how stupid that sounded but it was the truth.

"Absolutely not young man," she snapped, rising to her feet once more and seizing the bowl of chocolate mixture to begin beating it furiously again. "That is quite enough on the matter, I don't know how this got into your head but it can come out again right now."

"But-" tried Ron.

"No!" said Molly, tears in her eyes as her stirring halted. "Ronald you are scaring me and I'm begging you to stop, it's not safe!"

Ron stared at her with the mixing bowl on her hip, spoon in hand, biting her lip. "You're scared?" he asked weakly.

"You have no idea," she hissed, beating the mixture again. "How hard you father and I have worked to keep this family safe from...that. I want to know this instant who put this idea in your head?"

Ron's heart was fluttering like a hummingbird. Real terror was gripping him now; he was stranded in a parallel universe, he had to find Harry or Hermione, maybe they were somewhere here too, back in England perhaps.

"Do you at least have an owl I could use?" he asked, the idea of trying to use a Muggle telephone stressing him out even further.

"NO!" shrieked Molly, slamming the mixing bowl down. "You will tell me now who put you up to this, was it Bill? Because it is not funny."

"I was with Harry Potter," Ron ploughed on, sticking his chin up. "And Hermione Granger at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There were two people from another reality who had accidently ended up in ours, we were sending them home but then there was an explosion. I blacked out and I woke up outside with those boys in clothes I'd never seen before half way across the world!"

He breathed in and out. "Now," he said a little calmer. "If your son's anything like me, do you think he could come up with anything that imaginative?"

Molly stared at him. "I," she said, looking awfully pale. "I'm not sure."

"You say I don't know magic," said Ron, seized by sudden inspiration. "Get me a wand, I'll show you Descendo, Lumos, Accio Cupcake, anything you want."

Molly gripped onto the wooden table. "We don't have any wands," she said quietly.

"But," said Ron, his heart in his mouth. "Does that mean you believe me?"

Molly rubbed icing sugar into her eyes, then tried to shake it away again. "I know my son couldn't lie to me if his life depended on it," she said eventually. "His neck gets all red and he repeats everything three times."

Ron pulled a face and nodded. That sounded about right.

"But what you're saying," continued Molly. "It's not possible, it's not."

Ron sighed and sat down. "I know," he said, pulling at one of the paper cases on the nearest cupcake. "That's what I told Harry when he first came back, but I've seen it with my own eyes, and now I'm here. You could do a truth spell on me, I wouldn't know a thing about my life here."

Molly swallowed. "Harry Potter?" she asked. Rod nodded. "That boy...he was killed as a baby, his parents too."

A chill ran down Ron's spine. "He's dead?" he breathed out in horror. The idea was too horrible. "But then..." he frowned. "If Harry's dead...You-Know-Who-"

"Shh!" cried Molly, leaping to her feet. "Don't say it, don't even think it!"

Ron felt sick. "He's still alive then?"

Molly clutched her hands together. "Why do you think we fled?" she whispered. "I was making cupcakes." Ron looked about the colourful kitchen of confectionary. He supposed he had just turned her world upside down.

"So you moved to America?" he asked.

"After that happened," said Molly heavily. "Are you really not my son?"

Ron chewed his lip. "I am Ron Weasley," he said. "But not the one you know."

Molly stared out of the kitchen window into a back garden with a swimming pool. She sat like that for a long time. "Nicholls," she said after a time."

Ron blinked. "What?"

"Our name is Nicholls," said Molly weakly. "You've never known your real name, we moved when you and Ginevra were just babies."

"Do you believe me then?" asked Ron hopefully.

"I guess it could be possible," she said eventually. "The accent's very good."

"What's with your accent?" asked Ron almost accusingly.

Molly sighed. "When we moved, we changed everything, not just our name." She laughed sadly. "You are Ron Nicholls, of Cleveland, Ohio."

"Bloody am not," muttered Ron, crossing his arms.

"A man called Kingsley Shacklebolt was our secret keeper, he faked our deaths and hid us over here, complete with a charm to change our accents. After a time it wore off, but by then we'd learned."

"And no..." said Ron, pausing to pick his words. "Stuff, with the wooden sticks." Molly shook her head.

"Not a drop," she confessed. "It was the safest way."

"Then how am I going to get home?" asked Ron, the panic rising in him again.

Molly blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he said. "I need to at least try and do a spell, what if they can't pull me back from the other side?"

"There's a spell that can do that?" asked Molly. "From the other side, they can pull you back, give me back my son?"

"Yeah," admitted Ron. "But I can't just sit here."

Molly looked happier. "If there is such a thing," she said cheerfully, picking up her bowl again. "Then that's wonderful, I'm sure you'll be home in no time. There's no reason for you to risk exposing this family when we've hidden so well for so long."

"But," said Ron horrified. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

Molly Nicholls smiled. "Have a cupcake," she said, offering him a strawberry frosted one. "And we'll discuss this a little more when your father gets home."

xxx

Harry Potter couldn't bear to open his eyes. His memories were slowly coming back to him, there was the taste of blood in his mouth and his head felt like a marching band was strolling through it. But even without all that he knew in his heart what had happened.

He'd felt something was wrong the second the spell had started, but he'd ignored it like a fool, hoping rather than really believing it would all go as planned. He ran his tongue around slippery, metallic tasting teeth and squeezed his eyelids even tighter together.

Someone was calling his name, he could feel people bustling around him as he lay on what was probably the floor. How, he pleaded silently to whoever was listening. How could this have possibly have happened again?

"Harry are you okay?" He moved his head about, twisting his neck out, and flexed his fingers. He knew that voice.

"Ron?" he muttered blearily.

"Harry!" Ron cried back happily. "Harry wake up, you fainted."

"Give him some room," came Hermione's voice crossly, and the sound of shuffling feet on floorboards greeted Harry's ringing ears.

"You guys okay?" he grunted as he prized his eyes open and sat up. He was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, on the floor next to the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Ron were by his side, as was Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley. Harry blinked. Maybe he hadn't crossed over realities at all, maybe the spell had worked and he'd somehow got down here – it was breakfast time after all. Maybe they'd done the spell just fine, and they'd come down to eat but then everything had taken its toll and he'd fainted. That seemed plausible, didn't it?

"Us?" asked Hermione. "We're fine, what about you, I think you've bitten your tongue?"

"What happened?" Harry asked, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head. "Did the spell work, did they leave?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance. "We didn't try the spell yet," said Ron, reaching up to the table and picking up a book to hand to Harry.

"Who's leaving?" asked Hermione, looking around at the Gryffindors gathered in between their table and the Ravenclaws next to them.

The hope that had been ballooning in Harry's chest popped. He scrambled to his feet with the aid of Ginny Weasley, and looked straight at the Slytherin table. There, sat in the middle, flanked by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, was Draco Malfoy, pointing at laughing at Harry. "Hey Potter!" yelled Malfoy, delighted. "You've got something on your head!"

Ginny tutted, loudly, and spun Harry around. "Honestly," she seethed as the two of them slammed back into their seats. "You'd think you hadn't had that scar for your entire life." Harry instinctively reached up with his finger, and felt the faint lightning bolt he'd known since he was a baby.

"Moron," concurred Ron as he made his way back around the table to his cooling bowl of porridge.

Hermione was already seated, efficiently buttering her toast. "Did it hurt," she asked, raising her eyes to Harry's scar. "Was it You-Know-Who that made you faint?"

Harry swallowed and tried not to stare at her as he made mental notes. He obviously had travelled to an alternate reality, he accepted with an increasing sense of dread. But it was obviously a different universe to where he had gone before. This seemed to be just like his own reality, but as if...as if...

He looked around him. As if he'd never had his Dimensional Leap. Everyone was just like they were back home, all the same people, and Draco – or rather Malfoy – hated him as per usual. How could he know for sure though? He couldn't just come out and ask if anyone knew if he'd travelled to a reality last November, that could be disastrous.

When he'd met that Watcher, Alex, he'd explained that his would be the only version of a reality where he'd crossed over to Draco's world, and it would be years before more parallel universes would be created again. The same with Draco's world. But it made sense that up until he'd gone through the Dimensional Hotspot, new realities would have been created normally, and in the option where he hadn't smashed the window and crossed into another reality, that would carry on normally. Maybe that's where he was?

He realised people were watching him anxiously. He managed a weak smile. "I'm alright," he lied. "Maybe just not enough sugar in my system – that makes you faint sometimes, yeah?" The lying was far easier than last November, and he hated it.

Ron liked that train of thought, and pushed him over a large stack of jam on toast. Harry realised he was still clutching the book he had given him, the one he'd said they'd been working on, and Harry now stopped to look at the title. It said Advanced Potion-Making, and was very well thumbed with lots of ink stains. He flicked quickly through it as he picked up a slice of toast to eat, and saw a serious amount of cramped notes written in the margins, finished off with an inscription as he got to the front claiming the book belonged to the 'Half-Blood Prince'.

"Maybe there's a potion in there to make you feel better?" suggested Ron, moving onto eggs and bacon. "Slughorn could tell you what section to look in during the next lesson?"

Hermione tutted loudly and appeared extremely interested in her orange juice. Harry looked down at the book again. Was he taking Advanced Potions? he thought disbelievingly. This most definitely was an alternate reality if he'd got a high enough OWL to get into that.

He let the book fall shut and made a non-committal noise to Ron as he finished off his toast. He did feel a little better for eating something, but no amount of jam was going to fix the fact that he was lost in a parallel universe. Again.

He was really getting bored of this now.

Last time, he reflected as he picked up another sticky slice of toast and half listened to Ginny talk about Quidditch, last time he had been overwhelmed by panic, terrified by the gulf that lay between him and his home. But having survived that ordeal and made it back to his own universe, and then last week being reunited with Draco and Sarah in his own world, it seemed to diminish his panic somewhat. True, he was lost in a new parallel world, but he knew for certain there were ways he could get back. Whoever was left back home could send another letter to retrieve him, just like last November, or he could attempt to reproduce the spell they had just attempted. Maybe they had done something wrong, and Harry had got caught up in it when Sarah and Draco went back home?

He looked around at Hermione and Ron. But what if they had been sent to alternate realities too though? he worried. What if Draco and Sarah had as well, what if they hadn't got home?

Then all their fates lay in the hands of Severus Snape. Harry shuddered. That was never a position he wanted to be in.

Hermione and Ginny were talking about homework, and Seamus and Dean were talking about Muggle football; or at least Dean was talking, Seamus was listening patiently like he had done for the past five years. Suddenly Ron's hand was reaching over and tapping the potion book. "Don't worry," he said with a wink. "She's just jealous the Prince is a potion making genius. She'll come around."

Harry flicked through a few of the middle pages again. "Hmm," he said, unconvinced. He wanted to ask if they knew who this Prince was, and why his counterpart felt safe to trust his writing. Sitting next to Ginny he was reminded of another book that told people what to do and remembered it had not ended well.

He looked around the Great Hall as people slowly started to drift off. Being a Saturday they weren't in hurry to go to lessons, the weather was lovely outside for Autumn and many were keen to make the most of it. Was this what his life could have been like, Harry wondered to himself, a touch melancholy. If he'd never lost his temper after Sirius' recapture, would this be the life he would be leading?

But then, he reasoned, there would have been no one to save his family in the other reality, in fact there probably was a place where he'd never shown up and they were all now dead, so it wasn't good to dwell on that possibility. Also, he reasoned as he took a mouthful of sweet tea, it was going over there that gave him the kick to save Sirius back in his home world, and he most certainly didn't regret that.

So where was Sirius here? he wanted to ask. In jail, on the run? Maybe by some miraculous turn of events he had still managed to end up living in that little house on the outskirts of the village? He burned to ask, but wasn't sure the best way to do it without causing alarm. Surely, even if everything else looked the same from where Harry sat in the school hall, Sirius' fate would be different to his own world. It had to be.

Hermione was busy explaining a mock OWL question to Ginny, and Dean was loudly recounting the Premier League table to Seamus as he poked at a muffin. So Harry decided to just risk it, and leant over to Ron opposite him. "About Sirius," but Ron held up a hand to interrupt him.

"Mate, honestly, it's what he wanted, you need your money."

Harry raised an eyebrow. That was not what he'd been expecting. Did he want to give Sirius financial help? "I have a lot though," he offered gingerly. "In Gringotts."

Ron was shaking his head. "He was very clear, he had a stash in the house, and he wanted to rest with your parents, it's what they would have wanted too."

Something cold slid down inside Harry. Rest by his parents? Was Sirius...no, he couldn't believe it.

Ron gave him a sympathetic smile. "Hey," he said kindly, eyes flitting to Hermione and back. "Maybe in a couple of weeks we can go visit all three of them, sneak over to Godric's Hollow and lay some flowers?"

Harry thought he was going to faint again. His vision tilted and his ears roared. Sirius was dead. "I have to..." he mumbled, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. "Fresh air."

"I'll come with you," said Hermione, concerned, but Harry shook his head as he stumbled away.

"I'll take your things!" cried Ron as Harry reached the end of the table and heard Malfoy laughing again with his cohorts. He pushed open the double doors and practically ran out into the sunshine flooding the school's front steps.

Sirius was dead.

How? He wanted to go back and ask, but he couldn't, it would arouse too much suspicion. He carried on stumbling down the steps, one foot falling in front of another. How could there possibly be a world where Sirius was dead too? It was so amazingly unfair.

Harry stumbled to a halt by the edge of the forest and sucked air in and out of his lungs. "You're not alone," he told himself. "You've still got Ron, and Hermione, and this isn't even your world anyway, calm down." But he felt as if the sky was falling down around him, crushing him. He leant on his knees but that just made it harder to breath, so he stood up again and laced his fingers behind his head, closing his eyes and focusing all his energy on inhaling.

"You're going to get back home," he told himself softly. "Everything will be fine." There was a light breeze rolling over the school grounds, and he stood for several minutes letting it wash over him until his heart rate slowed.

Why was he in a third reality? he wondered as he eventually lowered his arms. They had been trying to send Draco and Sarah back home, surely if he was going to accidently go anywhere it would be there? What had brought him here?

He sat down on the grass and leant up against a tree. Perhaps he was 'meant' to be here he wondered, slightly apprehensively. Like he was 'meant' to save Sarah and defeat Voldemort, like how Draco was 'meant' to rescue the school. He closed his eyes and sighed. Did that mean he should just hang around and wait for someone to attack? He didn't like the sound of that one bit.

Maybe he should try and get himself home? Hermione had chewed his ear off enough the past few days about the theory of it all, he was bound to have retained something useful wasn't he?

He stood again, brushing grass and dirt from his jeans, jeans he recognised from his own wardrobe funnily enough. But that wasn't what stopped him dead, as he realised as he leant over there was something bouncing on his chest, underneath his t-shirt. Slowly, he reached inside it, and pulled out a fine chain with a purple amulet on the end of it.

Alex's pendent. Harry's eyes stared at it unseeing for another few minutes. It had to be, the purple gem suspended in the fine nest of silver threading. The very same one he'd received in Limbo, that would supposedly remove the unwanted part of the other Voldemort's soul and send it back with Draco and Sarah. What in the name of everything magic was this third Harry Potter doing wearing it?

Harry stared at it, as if expecting an answer, watching it twinkle in the warm morning light. Had Alex given it to this Harry too, was that possible?

But then Harry dropped the chain and snatched the swinging pendant in his fist. "My wand," he said out loud to the trees. "The photograph." Items had travelled across the boundaries of the universes before, maybe that's what had happened here, maybe this was the very same necklace that Alex had given him.

But he had needed his old familiar wand, the core it contained and the history they'd had together to defeat Voldemort. And the family portrait of the Potters he had always felt was an essential part of his grieving and moving on process. Why would the amulet have found its way here with him, he didn't feel connected to it or that he needed it?

He released it and let it swing, his eyes clouding over angrily. Unless he didn't need it, and wasn't really connected to it. Unless it hadn't worked properly. Unless it had gone wrong. He'd not bothered to check with Alex what exactly it was supposed to do. What if it had pushed a doorway randomly into a nearby universe, and deposited Harry there?

He began marching over the grass, determined to go to the library and pull out all of the books Hermione had been using. "Alex the Watcher," he muttered as he crossed the grounds. "If we ever see each other again, we are going to have words."

xxx

"What?" said Draco Malfoy, pushing himself off of the table and crunching across the old History of Magic classroom on the shattered glass from the window. "What did you say?"

Severus Snape looked paler than usual, if that was at all possible, and he turned from Draco to a stunned Sarah Potter. "I think you both remained here," he rasped as sunlight glimmered off of the glass shards. "But the other three, Harry, Granger and Weasley." He stopped and put his hands on his hips. "Travelled to another universe."

"We don't know that," spluttered Draco, storming around the room, kicking bits of window as he went. He paused by the remains of the frame. "They could have disapparated, or Flooed," he was thinking of Harry falling into the fireplace at Sirius' house, clinging to some hope that what Severus was saying wasn't true.

"You're right," he said oddly graciously, making Draco's head turn. "We don't actually know anything. But I am certain that you are in the same universe which you have been stranded in the past week."

Sarah looked very faint all of a sudden. Draco crossed quickly over and put his arms around her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Okay?" she asked, glossy eyes looking up at him. "Okay? We're just as stuck as we were, but now the others are back in our world! Of course I'm not okay!"

"We don't know where they are," said Severus reassuringly.

"So, what?" demanded Sarah. "They're in some completely different universe! How will we find them!"

Severus held up his hands. "Or Draco could be right, maybe they disapparated. We can try a locator spell, and I can send my Patronus. If that doesn't work, we'll send a letter out to follow them, much like Granger and Weasley did for Harry last November."

Sarah took a deep breath and visibly calmed herself. "What went wrong?" she asked. "Was it the spell? I never should have helped."

Severus frowned and went over to inspect the upturned contents of the table they had been preparing the potion on. "Possibly," he said. "It is always a possibility. But I doubt it, we agonised over the incantation. And your work was perfect."

Sarah looked relieved. Draco shook his head suddenly, flinging the last remaining flecks of glass from his hair. "Harry had an amulet," he said, his common sense coming back to him now the shock was wearing off.

"What kind of amulet?" said Severus suspiciously.

Draco sighed and cast his mind back. He knew it was only a few minutes ago that he'd seen it, but it suddenly felt like a lifetime. "Expensive looking. It was a silver chain, with a pendent on the end. A purple stone, suspended in a fine mesh of silver thread, like a nest."

Severus glanced over at Sarah, then back at him. "It means nothing to me, why do you think it's relevant?"

Draco folded his arms and tried to remember exactly what Harry had said to him. "Harry said it was part of the spell, but no one else knew about it. He said it would ensure that everything that was supposed to return to our world, would. But it seems to have done the opposite."

"He interfered with the spell!" cried Severus, colour returning rather quickly to his cheeks. "That idiotic, incompetent-"

"Hey!" snapped Sarah. "Harry wouldn't have used it if he didn't believe it would truly help us."

Severus ground his teeth. "I'm sure you believe that Sarah," he said. "But you don't know this particular Harry as well as I do. He is reckless and short-sighted-"

"He is twice the man my own brother is!" Sarah interrupted again, her fists balling. "I don't know what your problem is-"

"Guys, guys!" said Draco, waving his hands at them. "Arguing isn't going to help us." Sarah harrumphed and crossed her arms, and Severus inclined his head and took a step backwards. "Maybe that amulet did do something to mess up the return spell," agreed Draco. "Is there any way to research what it could have been?"

Severus thought a moment. "The Headmaster has a vast knowledge of enchanted gems," he said. "I suggest we start there."

But as he took a step towards the door that lead back out into the corridor, it slammed shut. Everyone froze. "What did that?" whispered Sarah. Draco shook his head. If he had to guess, he'd say it was poltergeist-like behaviour, but the ghosts in Hogwarts kept all the malicious spirits out of the grounds (aside from Peeves, who seemed to be able to do as he pleased).

Draco moved forward and rattled the knob. "It's locked," he said simply. Severus was by him in a flash, firing all sorts of opening spells at the door and it's handle, but nothing worked.

"Are we under attack?" asked Sarah.

The door suddenly, and dramatically, burst open forcing Draco and Severus to jump backwards. A man was standing on the other side, but he was not in the corridor. He was in the entrance hall of an old house with wooden beams and rich red rugs on the floor. "No," he shouted as he strolled on through. "You are not under attack for once. But apparently I am incapable of leaving you alone for even five minutes without you getting into trouble!"

He was slim and slightly shorter that Draco, with blond highlighted hair and a face with such refined features any Muggle film star would have been envious. He wore a well fitted black tailcoat, with a colourful silk lining and the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His jeans were ripped at the knees and tucked into worn looking pirate boots, and his t-shirt was so faded Draco could barely make out the design. A white terrier puppy bounded around by his feet as he marched into the classroom, and the door swung violently shut again behind them.

"Who are you?" demanded Severus, his wand already out and pointed at the man's face. "This school is private property, how did you get in?"

"Oh chillax Sevy," said the man patiently. "I'm on your side. Trust me, a lot of Watchers would have ditched you guys by now, you're an unbelievable lot – even Jane didn't cause this many problems." His accent was extremely well spoken, it reminded Draco of his great grandfather on his mother's side. This man seemed too young to have such a voice.

"You heard him," snapped Sarah, her wand raised in her shaking hand. "Who are you and what do you want. We've had enough trouble already today."

The man rubbed his forehead and became serious. "Don't you think I know that?" he asked as the white puppy plonked himself on the floor and looked forlornly up at his master.

"Then what do you want?" asked Severus.

The man breathed out and shoved his hands on his hips. "Well someone has to fix everything, don't they?" He looked at all the shattered glass on the floor, sighed, and picked up his left foot to examine the sole of his boot. "Starting with that window," he muttered.

Severus scowled and flicked his wand, and instantly all the tiny shards began flying back towards the window frame, reassembling piece by piece.

"Oh wands are wonderful aren't they," exclaimed the man. "No pun intended."

Draco finally found his voice. "I know you," he said, looking the man up and down. "I've met you before."

"You have?" said Sarah, surprised.

"We have," agreed the man happily, extending his hand out towards Draco.

"But..." said Draco as the last few bit of glass removed themselves from his clothes. "That was a dream?"

The man made a sound like he was blowing a raspberry. "Pish-posh," he said. "Dream, reality, what's the difference?"

"Quite a lot," said Severus coldly.

"What dream?" asked Sarah, her wand still held high.

Draco looked at the man and rubbed his new figure-eight scar on his right wrist. "After Voldemort cast his killing curse, I had a crazy dream, and when I thought I woke up I was on a couch, by a fire."

The man clicked his fingers and pointed at Draco. "My living room," he affirmed.

The terrier bound over and set upon the lace trailing down from Draco's trainer. "And we worked out his name," Draco carried on, pointing at the puppy. "Sir Woofsalot."

"Sir Woofsalot?" repeated Sarah with a raised eyebrow.

The man opened out his arms. "And I am Alex, the Watcher of your universe." He dropped his hands and frowned at Draco and Sarah. "Well not you two, you have a different Watcher, with less impressive hair."

Severus looked like he was about to lose his patience. "I don't care what your name is," he practically snarled. "You will explain to us now, clearly and concisely, what a Watcher is, how you travelled to this school, and, most importantly, why are you here?"

"Woofsy," said Alex coldly, though Draco felt the tone was aimed more at Severus than his dog. "Heel." The puppy abandoned Draco's trainer, of which he was now chewing the rubber sole, and scampered over. "I already told you," he said. "I am here to help. Your gratitude so far is overwhelming."

"How are you possibly going to help," replied Severus. "You have no idea what is going on."

"I know," said Alex darkly. "That you have currently misplaced one Harry Potter, one Hermione Granger and one Ron Weasley because the homing spell you performed backfired."

Draco suspected Severus had not been expecting that answer. Sarah, however, dropped her wand hand. "Do you know what happened?" she cried.

Alex sighed heavily. "Yes," he said begrudgingly. "Like I said, I'm a Watcher, an immortal human who makes sure business in your country in this particular universe runs smoothly. When Harry crossed over to your universe last year that definitely fell into the category of Not Running Smoothly."

"Then why didn't you stop it?" asked Severus sceptically.

Alex flung his hands down petulantly. "As if!" he exclaimed. "I can't just run around other people's universes. Besides, Harry got home fine, that wasn't the problem. The problem is he came back with another bit of Voldemort's soul in him after he defeated him, in addition to the one he already has, and that just couldn't stay unresolved."

"A bit of his soul?" repeated Draco.

"Erm" said Alex, rubbing his spiky blond hair. "I think the technical magic term is Horcrux."

Severus jerked to attention. "We don't talk about that," he insisted.

Alex shrugged. "Well we have to," he said as Sir Woofsalot scratched behind his ear. "So I pluck him out of the Floo Network after he fell in the fireplace – I had to wait until he was in a state of flux you see – and gave him an amulet to extract the foreign Horcrux. When the spell was performed to send you two home that should have been the end of it."

"What went wrong?" demanded Sarah, and Alex grimaced.

"There weren't just two Horcruxes by the time the spell was cast," he said, turning to Draco. "There were three."

"Harry managed to get more of Voldemort in him?" asked Draco incredulously, but Severus was the one to answer.

"No," he said, lowering his wand. "Not Harry, you."

Draco took a moment to look at the others. "Me?" he repeated loudly.

"You should have tried speaking Parseltongue whilst you had it," said Alex excitedly. "It sounds mental!"

"Whilst I had it?" Draco was beginning to feel like a parrot. "Don't I have it anymore?"

Alex looked at him and the others as if he'd been caught not doing his homework. "Well," he said sheepishly. "The amulet did sort of work." He proceeded to explain how instead of removing just Harry's rouge Horcrux, it had removed Draco's too. But the force of this had blasted Harry, Ron and Hermione into three different universes, and the Horcruxes with them.

"Three different universes?" cried Sarah. "Oh this is so awful!"

"What happened to the Horcruxes?" asked Severus.

Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "They went with Ron and Hermione, they got one each."

"They have a bit of Voldemort inside them!" said Draco in horror, but Alex held up a finger.

"No," he said, "no, no. Once they were extracted the amulet was designed to latch them onto an external object, as is normal with a Horcrux, so they must be within an item close to Hermione and Ron's doppelgangers."

Draco, Severus and Sarah just sort of stared for a moment or two. "So," said Draco eventually. "What happens now? How do we get everybody home, and what happens to those Horcrux things?"

"Many excellent questions," replied Alex with a smile. "All of which are being attended to."

"Can't you just hop over and grab them?" asked Sarah.

"Hop into a real world?" repeated Alex confused. "Well of course not, I don't have corporeal form. I can only half put my foot in after someone's been in flux, like with Harry at Stonehenge, and I certainly can't go into someone else's realm."

"But you're here," said Severus. "You got into the school."

"Ah," said Alex, his face falling. "You haven't looked out of the window lately, have you?"

"Yes we-" began Draco as he turned to point at the recently reconstructed window pane, but he stopped with his mouth half open and his hand half raised. Alex was right, they had indeed neglected to glance through the glass in the past few minutes. As he, Sarah and Severus turned and began slowly walking towards the view now before them, Sir Woofsalot whimpered.

The sky was cracked, like an old pottery vase. There were literal gaps where the atmosphere should have happily been hanging, long black slashes that zig-zagged their way to Earth. And where the grounds of Hogwarts should have extended out as far as the eye could see, the grass and trees only extended a hundred feet or so away from the castle, before they transformed into parched, orange wasteland. Half a dozen strange, very large creatures were sniffing suspiciously at the edge of the lawn. They were like tyrannosaurus-rex with huge armoured antlers and two too many arms scratching behind their heads.

"What," breathed Draco. "The Hell...is going on?"

Alex was standing a little way behind them. "The thing is," he said softly. "When that spell backfired, and sent the others into three separate universes, your school became a sort of epicentre." Draco turned around, and felt Sarah's small hand find his own.

"Epicentre of what?" she asked, as Draco's heart thumped.

"The aftermath," said Alex, scooping up Sir Woofsalot and perching him in the crook of his arm. Both of them looked strained. "With that much energy expelling outwards, the Multiverse sort of had to snap back, like an elastic band. And when that happened..." He tilted his head and grimaced.

"Are you saying we are in another reality?" asked Severus. Alex's face dropped.

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head and looking between the three of them by the window. "I'm afraid not. The aftershock wasn't that powerful, it was only strong enough to pop you a little further out, and as such it shouldn't be too difficult to get you back."

"Get back from where?" asked Draco.

Alex took a deep breath. "Limbo," he said. "Hogwarts school, and everyone in it, is in Limbo."

xxx

The place known as Limbo was not a physical plane in the traditional sense. It was infinite and non-existent all in the same breath. Though it was vast it could not be mapped or travelled across, and although it held many inhabitants not one of them could be considered a living soul.

Ordinarily that was.

At the present moment, there were several hundred new residents of the In Between realm, every one of them living and breathing and causing all sorts of trouble. Whereas landscapes in this place normally consisted of wisps of consciousness, ideas and memories loosely constructed around the mind or minds thinking them to create the perception of setting, in the past few minutes that was all falling apart. Mountains were rising, oceans were filling, jungles were bursting into life. Beings who were used to happily musing hours, days, years away in the ether were suddenly thrust into the cold light of day, shivering and blinded by the elements now surrounding them. Sky-scrapers rose, subways tunnelled through the fresh mish-mash of rock solidifying in a pattern that made no geological sense.

Some structures had always had form; the Embassy of Watchers and the Courtroom of The Elders Jury were two such examples. But these were places belonging to beings who had willingly stepped into the plane of Limbo, had made their home and workplace there. It was the untrained minds that were now pulling the threads of reality, bringing form where there had been none before.

Harry Potter, however, was not aware of any of this. In fact he wasn't aware of much at all as he lay on his back and blinked his eyes slowly. There was no ceiling to the room he was in, the walls just sort of extended into darkness. No, not walls, shelves. It seemed like a library as far as he could tell from the stacks of books rising into the black murkiness. There was a smell like wood smoking, burning slowly on a low flame that seemed at odds with what he was looking at, and the lights were down low throwing long shadows across Harry's vision. He hadn't been here a moment ago, of that he was certain.

He sat up carefully and looked around. He was in a circular well, bordered with wooden railings and two little stair cases at opposite ends. The towers of books had their ends pointing into the circular well, and they extended out into the darkness further than Harry could see. The carpet he was sat on was plush and a rich red colour. With him in the well were several book-covered tables surrounded by chairs in the same reddish wood as the railings and book cases, as well as a number of fat green sofas.

Harry's instinct had been correct, this was definitely some sort of library, though he had never seen it before in his life. There was a kind of numbness hanging over him, stopping him from processing his thoughts properly. He was aware of this, but oddly it didn't worry him. Where was he? he wondered slowly. How did he get here?

Hadn't he been eating breakfast? he thought as he clambered to his feet and brushed calmly his jeans down. In the Great Hall, with Ron and Hermione. And they'd been arguing, about a book. Harry looked around, blinking through the haze in his brain as he began to realise he had none of his possessions with him. No backpack, no books. He pressed down his pockets and found his wand with relief.

A form of panic was worming its way through the cloudiness in his conscious. He was in a strange place and he didn't know how he got there. His scar wasn't hurting, which was a good sign, but it didn't really tell him more than Voldemort wasn't near at that present moment.

"Harry?" came a voice from behind, and he spun around in surprise. Hermione Granger was standing at the top of the little flight of stairs across the well from him, looking at him with confusion. He was sure his face was wearing the same expression as he quickly took in her appearance.

Her hair was sleek, straight and cut in a layered fashion around her face. Her jeans were well fitted and on her feet were newly polished boots with a three inch heel. An old looking key was hanging around her neck and as she descended the steps and came closer Harry could see she was even wearing make-up. He didn't think he'd ever seen her with make-up apart from at the Yule Ball.

"Hermione?" he asked unsure. "What happened?"

She peered at him, as if waiting for something. After a moment or two she looked around the library that faded into the darkness and frowned. "I was in the school library," she said. "With Lisa and Lavender."

Harry couldn't help it, he shook his head. "No, we were in the great Hall," he said, his heart fluttering in his chest. "We were talking about Potions."

Hermione peered at him again. "I highly doubt that," she told him eventually.

"Where are we?" asked Harry, the fogginess in his head beginning to relinquish its control and allow enough room for some good healthy fear to blossom. "How did we get here, and why are your clothes different?"

"Oh no," said Hermione, her face paling. "Oh no."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound good," he told her evenly.

"Whoa!" cried another voice, a boy, and Harry turned to his left to see the top of someone's head as they sat up behind the nearest green sofa. "What the..."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look, then unanimously began walking either end of the couch. Harry wasn't sure if he was surprised or not when he rounded the arm rest and saw Ron Weasley sitting on the floor in front of him. "Ron?" he said stupidly. Like Hermione, Ron looked radically different to his normal appearance. He had knee length shorts on and a t-shirt with a swirling, non-descript pattern, the sleeves cut off. Harry hadn't recognised his signature red hair from the other side of the sofa as it was hidden by a backwards baseball cap.

"Ron?" repeated Hermione, alarmed. "Ron Weasley?"

Ron held up his hands. "Hey," he said with concern. "No, not Weasley. Do I know you guys?"

Harry blinked. "Is that a joke?"

Ron stared at him, then over his shoulder at Hermione, then stood up shakily. "I don't know what you guys are playing at," he said, backing into the wooden railings. "But this ain't funny."

Harry narrowed his eyes at his best friend, Hermione momentarily forgotten. "What's wrong with your voice?" he asked, unable to place it. The accent was off somehow.

"Ron Weasley?" said Hermione again, her voice becoming ever so slightly hysterical.

"Why do keep saying that?" snapped Harry. "What's wrong with you both?"

"Ron Weasley is dead!" yelled Hermione, her voice echoing around the silent mystery library.

Ron blinked and seemed to think that over. "Who's Ron Weasley?" he said.

"No he's not," repeated Harry with more fervour. "He's right here."

Hermione balled up her fists. "Ron and his family were murdered by Lord Voldemort several years ago," she insisted. "I've never met him before, only heard about him from someone else." She looked as if she might cry and took a step towards Harry. "But it wasn't you, was it? You're not the one who came to Germany with us?"

Harry felt speechless. Ron looked down right scared. "Ron" he said patiently, "and the rest of the Weasleys are fine."

Ron threw up his hands. "Who are the Weasleys?" he asked with a nervous laugh. A cold, slippery sensation trickled down Harry's spine.

"You," he said confused. "That's your name."

Ron really did laugh this time. "Aw man," he said, relieved. "You've got the wrong guy – phew!" He mocked wiping sweat off his brow. "My name's Nicholls, you must have made a mistake." He shoved his hands into his shorts and rocked on his feet. "So, are there hidden cameras or something – for a prank?"

"Nicholls?" repeated Harry. "But your mum's Molly yeah? Dad's Arthur? Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the rest?"

Ron looked uncomfortable. "Yeah that's us," he said wearily. Harry turned from him to Hermione, then back again.

"But...why are you saying your name is Nicholls, and what's with your voice?"

"Isn't he normally American then?" asked Hermione, slumping down on to the green sofa and covering her face with her hands.

"You know he's not!" cried Harry, realizing that she was right, that was what was different about his accent.

"Of course I am!" cried Ron at almost the same time. "Have been my whole life."

"Oh no," wailed Hermione, flinging her hands down in to her lap. "I knew something like this was going on, I knew it the minute Draco and Sarah vanished."

"Draco Malfoy?" demanded Harry, a steely edge to his voice. Ron just bit his lip.

"Just to be absolutely clear," said Hermione, leaning forward on the sofa in a pleading sort of way. "You're not the Harry Potter who travelled with me to Germany to rescue your sister and destroy Lord Voldemort, or the one that disappeared when that Harry took his place?"

"Huh?" said Ron.

The chill Harry had felt run down his spine earlier evolved into a full blown ice bath all over his body. He took a very good look at Hermione, then Ron, then back to Hermione. "Is that some sort of sick joke Hermione?" he breathed out through a clenched jaw.

She looked upset, and clutched at her key necklace again. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I know this is probably a lot to take in."

"I don't have a sister!" Harry spat out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, holding up her hands in a peace offering. "But I think I have an idea of what's going on here, will you let me explain?"

"Yes," piped up Ron in his unfamiliar accent. "For the love of God, explain."

She took a deep breath, lifted herself from the couch and began pacing the room, key still in hand. "Do you know what Parallel Universes are?"

"What?" said Harry and Ron at the same time.

"Um," she said. "Okay, so it's a bit farfetched. But, it's the concept that there are realities that exist side by side one another, but with slight differences. Like, in one universe, someone made one choice, but in another they did something different, so things turned out another way."

"So?" asked Harry. "Why are you talking about this?"

She held her hands out to the two boys. "Because they're real. I've seen it for myself."

"Oh whatever," scoffed Ron.

"That's stupid," said Harry. Hermione's arms fell to her side.

"Well, I can't say I blame you, that was my reaction. But they're real, very real."

Ron squinted at her and took a few steps away from the railings. "Are you one of those crazy, Area 51, time-travelling, aliens-are-among-us nut jobs?"

She looked at him blankly. "Is time-travel possible in your universe?" she asked incredulously.

"No!" he shouted, thumping a fist on a nearby table. "If this is some dweeb idea of a joke, I want out, right now!" He practically spun in a circle, then calmed and came to a halt again. "Where are the doors?" he asked in a quieter voice. "How did we get in here?"

"I was eating breakfast," insisted Harry. "With both of you, and then I must of passed out and woke up here."

"Dude, I have never seen you before in my life," said Ron, pointing his finger. Hermione waved her hands.

"Please!" she cried, and they looked at her. "Harry, that was a different reality, a different version of us two. I was in the school library when I blacked out and Ron," she extended her hand. "What were you doing?"

"Playing B-Ball," he said unsure.

"POTTER!" Harry jumped out of his skin as someone called his name from within the stacks. The three teenagers in the well shared a look.

"Hello?" Harry called back in trepidation.

There was the sound of footsteps stomping, then the familiar face of Draco Malfoy appeared, livid, from out of the darkness.

"I knew I heard your bloody voice," he snarled, marching along the wooden railings then down the small set of stairs. "What have you done to me, where are we?"

"Malfoy," said Harry resisting the urge to take a step backwards. "Calm down, we don't know what's going on." At least Draco looked like normal he noted with a insignificant sense of relief.

"You know this joker?" said Ron sceptically.

"Shut up Weasley," the blond Slytherin shot back.

"That's not my name!" Ron yelled.

"Boys!" cried Hermione with such conviction, they all shut their mouths. "So," she said, taking a deep breath and placing her shaking hands together. "Harry, you know everybody here, correct?"

He shook his head in resignation. "Yes," he said patiently. "Of course I do."

"Draco, do you know everybody here?"

He glared at her, running his eyes up and down her body, then curled his lip. "Are you attempted to be funny Granger?"

Her mouth fell open.

"W-what?" she stammered.

"You," he said, jabbing his finger under her nose. "Funny? Do Mudbloods have that concept?"

Hermione closed her eyes and blinked back tears. Harry put his arm around her. No matter how weird she was sounding she was still Hermione. "Shut your mouth Malfoy," he growled. "Or I'll shut it for you."

"Oooh!" said Malfoy with mock fear, waving his hands about. "Please don't hurt me Mr Potter."

Hermione shook herself under Harry's arm. "No," she said, audibly swallowing. "No it's fine, it actually proves my point."

"Which is?" asked Ron with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione looked at Malfoy through her eyelashes, then set her jaw. "Seeing as Draco knows all our surnames, I'll take it that he does know us. And, I know him and Harry, and I've heard of Ron. And Ron, you've never met or heard of any of us, correct?"

Ron just nodded, his eyes flicked from one person to the next.

"Draco, what is the last thing you remember before you blacked out?"

He blinked and folded his arms. "How did you know I blacked out?"

"Because we all did," she said earnestly.

"He was in the Great Hall," supplied Harry. "Being a moron as usual."

Malfoy stuck his chin out. "Actually," he said petulantly. "I was in the Slytherin common room, playing chess with Pansy." He looked smug. "I was winning."

Harry threw up his hands in defeat. "Okay," he said. "So maybe I blacked out first, and the rest of you did later. I was having breakfast."

"Well we'd just had Sunday lunch," said Draco in a superior tone. Harry though, frowned.

"Sunday?" he repeated.

"It's Saturday," said Ron slowly.

Hermione actually broke into a smile, but Harry was just becoming irritated. "Have I been out a whole day?" he demanded, though he wasn't sure who he expected an answer from.

"No," said Hermione, excitedly. "No, but I think Draco might have lost a whole week though."

"Why are you calling him Draco and not Malfoy?" asked Harry. That was irritating him too.

"Oh shut it, both of you" Malfoy sneered and began looking around the room. "Where's the door, how did you get in?"

"Listen to me," said Hermione eagerly. "I think I do know what might be happening, or at least part of it." She held her hands up and her smile got bigger. "I think we are all from four different Parallel Universes."

The three boys stared at her. "Of course," said Harry eventually, unable to keep the scorn out of his voice. "Have you lost your mind?"

"This is stupid," agreed Ron.

"I am leaving this instant," Malfoy informed them. "All your parents will be hearing from my father about this debacle. Except for you Potter," he added with a delightful jeer. "Your parents are dead."

Harry snapped. He was confused, in a strange place and a taunt about his parents on top of Sirius' death only weeks ago all resulted in the very sudden decision to lunge at Malfoy and punch him in the face.

"No!" screamed Hermione, but they were toppling over the green sofa before she or the American Ron could do anything about it.

"Potter get off me!" yelled Malfoy, shoving Harry in the chest, but Harry wasn't finished with him and took another swing. Malfoy blocked him and took a shot of his own, knocking Harry on the jaw and sending his glasses flying.

"ENOUGH!"

The voice didn't so much shout, as reverberate through Harry's whole body, and he and Malfoy fell apart from each other. He snatched up his glasses and put them on in time to see Hermione take a concerned step, not towards him, but Malfoy. She stopped herself though, and clutched her hands in from of her chest and bit her lip.

"Who was that?" asked Ron, looking around the room. They didn't have to wait long to find out.

There was a sound of wheels, and after moment a ladder came whooshing out of the darkness along one of the corridors created by the book cases. It teetered as it reached the edge and came to a halt. About ten feet up, which was probably two thirds of the length of the ladder, stood a little grey haired man in a waist coat and ink covered fingers, gripping onto the ladder sides resolutely. He waited for the wheels to steady themselves, then stormed down the steps until he reached the floor. Harry guessed he was only about five foot but he managed to hold the unwavering attention of the room none the less.

He marched over to a small pile of books stacked by the railings, stomped up on them and smacked his hands onto the wood, making the four teenagers jump. Having exerted this energy the little man seemed to calm somewhat. He pressed his palms together and placed his index fingers gently against his lips. He took a deep breath in through his nose.

"There is to be no shouting in the library," he said in a soft voice, much lower than his stature might have suggested it would be. "Or fighting, or littering." Harry, like the others, was stunned into silence. The man smiled. "Much better," he said, jumping off the stack of books and walking round to the nearest staircase. Four heads turned and followed him until he stood before them.

"Who are you?" Harry asked wearily. "Do you know where we are?"

"Or how we got here?" chipped in Hermione.

The little man scoffed as he descended and walked over to a nearby table. As he started talking he tidied books and papers that had been left scattered over the surface area. "Why ask me, it's of your doing," he said scornfully.

"Me?" asked Harry.

"All of you," the man snapped pompously. "Everything was ticking along fine until you all showed up at once, and well, now here we all are."

"So I was right," said Hermione hesitantly. "We're all from different Parallel Universes."

The little man looked them each up and down in turn, then tugged at his waist coat.

"Yes, that is correct."

Ron made a scornful whistling noise behind his teeth. "Whatever."

The man looked at him, then Harry and Malfoy. "Your friends do not believe you?" he asked practically.

"We're not friends," Malfoy jumped in.

Hermione folded her arms. "It's a lot to take in." The man shrugged and carried on with his tidying.

"Well, you'd think you'd make this place a little less of a mess," he muttered to himself.

"We don't even know where this is," Harry pointed out indignantly. "Funnily enough my first thought when I woke up was not to spruce."

"Who are you," asked Hermione over the top of him. "How do you know what's happening? Are we in another reality, different to our own ones?"

The man squinted at her, then dropped the pile of books he'd accumulated at the base of the steps. "That's a lot of questions," he commented, then continued with his tidying.

"Please," she begged. Harry frowned at her. He'd never known Hermione to be so meek, it was unsettling. The man sighed.

"I have many names," he said. "But I guess given the circumstances I suppose you could call me Librarian. I'm sure in some language somewhere that was a translation once."

"Okay," said Hermione relieved. "Librarian, wonderful. So, what do you know?"

"A lot," he said with a touch of condescension.

Harry wasn't feeling very patient. "She means about us, this place," he said. "Where are we, how did we get here?"

"You didn't technically 'get' anywhere," mused the Librarian. "But I know what you mean, and I'll do my best to explain in a way you might understand." He regarded the four of them. "It might take some time."

Harry opened his mouth to counter the insult, but the Librarian carried on before he could.

"You are indeed from four different universes, realities that run alongside each other. There is no point in denying it, Miss Granger is telling the truth and the quicker you except that the quicker we can move on."

"That's ridiculous," scoffed Malfoy. "Why do you expect me to believe that."

"You go to school where you practice magic, and yet the concept of a Parallel Universe seems impossible to you." The Librarian tutted disapprovingly.

Ron, however, laughed aloud. "Now there's magic? The Sci-Fi was bad enough, but seriously?"

Harry wasn't sure what to make of that, but the Librarian squinted at Ron, looking him up and down. "You don't know you're a wizard do you? Curious, that's not normally a destiny we'd find you in."

Ron tugged at the peak of his baseball cap at the back of his head. "Dude none of what you just said made any sense."

"He doesn't know he's a wizard?" asked Hermione concerned.

"I'm not a wizard!" exclaimed Ron impatiently.

The Librarian dropped another pile of books onto the ones he'd already accumulated at the bottom of the steps. "Denial is such an ugly thing."

"Haven't you ever done things, crazy weird things you couldn't explain?" asked Hermione eagerly. Harry was watching the exchange with the same sort of numbness he'd woken up with. What they were saying couldn't possibly be true could it?

Ron eyed up Hermione suspiciously. "No," he said in a voice that clearly meant yes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Hermione reached into the back pocket of her jeans and held out her wand to him. "Here," she said, her checks flushed and her voice breathless. "Try it, I promise you you'll want to see this."

Ron stared at the stick of wood, grimaced then snatched it off of her. "Abracadabra," he cried unenthusiastically, then shrugged. "See, nothing, you're all insane."

"Try a proper spell," Harry heard his own voice saying, removing his own wand from his own jeans.

"What would a proper spell be?" asked Ron scathingly, his American accent ringing in Harry's ears. Hermione was right, he suddenly realised. This wasn't Ron at all.

"Lumos," he said dispassionately, and the tip of his wand lit up. Ron looked between him and Hermione, Malfoy was examining his nails and trying his best to look uninterested.

"It's a flashlight," said Ron, but he didn't sound wholly convinced.

"Nox," said Harry, extinguishing the light. "Okay, you try a different one. Look at that book at the top of the pile, and say 'Accio book'. See what happens." He hadn't realised, but whilst he'd been speaking Hermione had moved to his side. She beamed at him, her whole body tense in anticipation.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Accio book," he said, then dropped to the floor in shock as the book flew off of the pile towards him. Harry stepped forward and snatched it out of the air.

"You really didn't know that was going to happen," he said, bewildered.

"Are we done with your little experiments yet?" enquired the Librarian, not raising his eyes from the papers he was shuffling.

"What the Hell!" screeched Ron from the floor, peering out from under his hands.

"You're a wizard," said Hermione proudly to him, then leant over to Harry. "I know it wasn't technically you," she whispered. "But another you gave me the same shock last year. Best day of my life."

"That," said the Librarian. "Would have been the Harry Potter from Mr Malfoy's world over there. He ventured into Miss Granger's universe and created all manner of trouble."

"You're the Draco from Harry's universe?" asked Hermione, turning back to address Malfoy who was perched on one of the tables. He looked uncomfortable.

"I haven't got a clue what any of you are talking about."

"Yes," said the Librarian tiredly. "That's him, quite a change isn't it?"

She regarded him for a moment, then turned to Harry. "Harry seems like the boy I met last year though," she said, peering at his scar. "He's not like my Harry." Harry was starting to lose track of how many Harrys they were talking about. Three?

The Librarian had finally stopped tidying and was giving Hermione his full attention. "Correct again," he said, hooking his thumbs into the little pockets on his waistcoat. "This Harry shared an almost identical path to the one you met. He obviously did not throw himself into your universe though, and whereas your Harry returned home and cleared his godfather's name, this young man..."

His voice trailed off as Harry stared at him. "My godfather is dead," he said as his throat constricted.

The Librarian managed a small smile. "Not in every universe," he said almost kindly.

Harry felt his knees go from underneath him, and he bumped onto the arm of the green couch. It was only a few months ago he'd seen Sirius tumble beyond the veil at the Ministry of Magic, forever lost to him because he was too stubborn to listen to Snape, or anybody else. "Your Sirius is dead?" said Hermione, her voice full of sympathy.

"We could sit here all day," said the Librarian. "And discuss how your realities differ. But that's not important, not really, because you are not the ones you can do anything about it."

"Then who are?" asked Hermione. Harry's mind was concentrating on being tormented by the idea that Sirius could still be alive.

The Librarian extended his hand and swept it in front of the four students. "Your counterparts who have taken your places in the corporeal realms."

Even Hermione didn't have an immediate response to that. "Our...counterparts?" she said eventually.

"Yes, your doppelgangers as they say in German." He nodded at Malfoy. "Draco over there has been here almost a week as you'd judge it, but the place didn't have physical form then, so he wasn't aware. But when the Draco from your world," he nodded at Hermione. "And Sarah Potter tried to get back home, the spell..." he pulled a deeply disdainful face. "Did not work, and subsequently the Harry, Hermione and Ronald of that reality were propelled into three different ones, forcing you from your bodies and your consciousnesses created this place and dragged me along with it."

Hermione stared at the little man, then around at the books. Harry couldn't help but do the same. "So, we're not real anymore?" said Hermione in a small voice

"Oh you're real," said the Librarian. "You just no longer have physical form. You've been evicted, into Limbo."

Hermione covered her mouth and looked at Harry. "We never knew," she said slowly. "Where the Harry of my world went, when that the real Harry took his place."

The Librarian grinned and thumped the table beside him. "Here," he said proudly. "Although, like I said, it wouldn't have had physical form, so he would have just drifted along in the ether until that Harry returned to his proper body. Mr Malfoy has been doing the same thing, but with four of you here all together, it forced Limbo to take action and become corporeal. Fascinating wouldn't you agree?"

"I think," said Ron, who was still sitting on the floor, his head between his knees. "I'd use a different word."

Hermione chewed her lip for a while. "So," she said after a time. "Limbo doesn't usual have form like this?"

The Librarian pulled a face. "Not for Drifters," he agreed. "They're unaware that they're here. But for those of us that were invited to reside here on a permanent bases, we know how to create a world around us. Homes and so forth."

"What are Drifters?" asked Harry. He noticed that Malfoy still had barely said a word during the exchange, but he was now hanging on every word they were saying.

"People," said the Librarian. "Beings who do not die, but are not part of their world anymore. It's an unusual occurrence, but when you consider the infinite amount of universes, there are quite a lot of them hanging around here, like pollution in a large city."

Hermione look appalled. "So, they don't go to Heaven?"

A smile tweaked at the corner of the Librarian's mouth. "If that's how you'd like to think of it. Ah!" He sat up straight against the table he'd been propping himself against. "What perfect timing. Bonjour Marie."

He looked up to a point behind the four of them, and Harry and the others turned to see at who he was talking to. A little girl of no more than four years was crouching behind the railings, her hands on the beams, her face pressed up in between them. At the mention of her name she jumped up with a gasp and clasped her hands over her mouth. She was wearing an emerald green dress with cream polka dots and a big cream ribbon around her waist. She had a headband of the same material in her bob of dark brown hair, and her fringe was trimmed just above her eyebrows.

"Je suis désole, Monsieur Bibliothécaire!" she cried, like a daughter would to her father. She looked around the room with wide, disbelieving eyes, before casting her gaze down to her small hands. She flexed them in front of her face, then looked back at the little man and the crowd before him.

"Esc'que je peut avoir une glace, s'il vous plaît?" she asked shyly. The Librarian chuckled.

"Of course," he replied, and held out his hand, indicating an area to the left. "Help yourself."

She broke into a beaming smile and ran around the walkway. She stopped and grabbed a metal ring on the floor and heaved open a trap door. She reached her arm all the way inside, and just when Harry thought she would surely fall in she leant out again, an orange ice lolly proudly in her grasp. She let the door fall down again and sat on the floor, ignoring all the rest and began eating her prize.

"Marie is from the same reality as Mr Malfoy here," the grey haired man explained. "Those lost souls from you own realms will undoubtedly be the first to manifest as you will create a stronger platform for them to reach out to. But given time, those from other realities, far and wide, will begin to appear and then we shall have some real trouble on our hands."

"What happened to her?" asked Hermione sadly.

The man shrugged and pulled out a pocket watch from his waistcoat, he checked the time as he answered her then put it back in his waistcoat pocket. "About six weeks ago her mother was experimenting with some spell or other, but it went wrong and accidentally pushed the little girl out of that dimension. She's not dead you see," he said, leaning on his knees. "But she is no longer there either. She sort of latchedonto me as best she could as soon as she got here," said the Librarian warmly. "But of course this is the first time I have seen her."

Hermione watched the girl, Marie, as she got orange all over her face. "So there are other places in Limbo, other than this one?"

"Oh yes," agreed the Librarian, nodding.

"Can we get there?"

"You?" he asked, then considered. "Perhaps, but it would be very difficult. Other people can dream of you when they sleep, but can you make them do so? That would require skill indeed."

"But you can," Hermione clarified.

The Librarian shrugged. "That's different, I belong here."

Harry waved his hand though. "Who cares about going anywhere in Limbo," he said. "How do we get home, how does everybody get back into their own bodies?"

"I'm afraid," said the Librarian, pushing himself off of the table and walking slowly back up the stairs. "You'll just have to wait."

"For what?" asked Ron, his face far paler than normal under his freckles.

The Librarian ruffled Marie's hair as she licked her lolly stick clean, and pulled up the trap door. "For your counterparts to get themselves home. There's nothing you four can do in the real world, you don't technically exist anymore. Any magic performed will only have relevance here, not in any of your universes. You'll just have to tough it out until your doppelgangers get their acts together." He reached into the trapdoor.

"But what if they don't get their acts together," asked Hermione, horrified.

The Librarian came back out again with four different coloured lollies. "Then you'll just be stuck here forever," he said. "Ice cream anybody?"

Nobody spoke for at least a full minute.

Harry was the first to find his voice, lurking somewhere at the bottom of his shoes.

"What?" was all he found though.