Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter 8

Hermione Granger of the acromantulas peered out the window of the room her parents forced her to live in during her school's breaks. Hermione much rather spend her time in the cave with Papa Aragog, Mama Mosag and the rest of her true family. No lethargic window stills and dull brick walls. Instead a nice carved location where Hermione and her family could eat together. Despite joining in her family's eating circle, Hermione refrained from their preferred meal of human. Instead, she usually ate a nice steak prepared by Mama.

Outside her window the boys appeared to fight. She saw a lot of hand movements and Potter frowning his pretty pink lips. He looks so sad. The two lackeys walked away leaving her least favorite person alone. Hermione longed for this day for many years. The day Justin finally accepted he was doomed and she could move on. Not that she would move on. Forgetting was weak.

Hermione fingered the mark of eight eyes on her wrist. Mama designed it with her sharp nails the day Hermione was inducted into the family. The induction occurred near Papa's favorite yew tree. When she first came to the tree, all tall and greenish yellow, provided her strength.

The day Hermione first appeared in her Papa's home, the spider soon recognized that she was like the Hagrid. A man who Papa both loved during his childhood and betrayed the family.

Hagrid once believed survival of the fitness was fixated at understanding that one needs to exert their superiority. That was what Hermione's family does. They warned every intruder of the chance of them becoming prey. They never fear their brutal impulses. Hagrid ridiculed his animal connection once he finished school. Hermione vowed never to do the same.

Hermione apparated to her family's French home. Lines and geometric pictures ordained the cave's walls. Many etched by the claws of her younger brothers and sisters. Including Hermione's depiction of her first meeting with them. A small stick figure encompassed by a circle of spiders bowing. They bowed for Hermione for she was the girl unfavorably treated by humans and they knew she had the wit necessary for the family's secret mission.

"Hermione," her little sister Sahog cried as Hermione entered the cave. Immediately, a procession of her other little siblings followed. Each walked on their eight legs. Soon, Hermione experienced the sensation of many large legs over her head. Some bobbed their mouth on her cheek. All greeted Hermione with happiness. One, Taraholog greeted with urgency as well.

"Papa needs to see you," Taraholog exclaimed. One of her front claws absentmindedly pointed to the deep center of the dwelling.

The back of the cave was adorned with interwoven cobwebs. Papa rested on his back with his tired eyes. Mama stood over him, rubbing his belly gently with her front right claw. Papa looked worse than ever before. Hermione believed she saved him last spring when he was sick with a remedy she created from muggle chemicals. From her cure, Papa emerged from a ghastly creature to a leader ready for conquering. They made so many strides to completing the family's plan the past year. But, tonight, Hermione realized, the illness returned.

"Hermahog," Papa greeted quietly. "My girl, I don't have much longer. But I need to tell you that I trust you can complete the mission."

Hermione sat next to him and grasped one of his claws tightly in her hands. She placed it against her cheek. "I won't have to without you Papa. I have some more of the remedy back in the birthers home. You will survive."

The claw in her hand pressed deeper in her cheek and a light cut broke. Droplets of blood fell down Hermione's neck. She ignored the pain for she was accustomed to pain and had some murlap. Hermione talked over Gramp's law in her head for a moment to regain her composure. For Papa would detest expressions of sadness over him.

"Hagrid is sure the illness will return. I don't have much time left. I only want is to die knowing your life is good. Tell me about your day. In the next life, we'll both be spiders. I need some human story now."

Hermione told Papa about her encounter with her former tormentors.

At the end, Papa sighed. He looked exhausted and his claws were hanging low, static. "I'm glad we were able to move you away to France. But I think its time for you to return."

555

Old cloaks hanged from the ceilings of The Goat Pen. Many forts clung together by magic into many triangle shapes. The several forts throughout the restaurant reminded Harry Potter of the tent he endured the past few months. By the bar was a portrait that depicted an old goat pecking the frame. Harry needed to squint to see anything in this dark and dusty atmosphere.

Harry and his two best friends obtained seats by a rocking table. Ron munched on his bacon sandwich while Hermione sipped some tea and ate her roast beef sandwich. Harry relaxed as cool fresh water descended down his throat.

Harry listened to some customers in the table next to them discussing muggles in a strange way. At least in an unexpected way that contradicted to his previous experiences in the wizarding world. They talked as if they knew muggles. They talked as if it was normal for muggles to visit wizarding schools. In fact they were ridiculing the protesters who threatened muggles into Hogsmeade.

"Ridiculous. I was talking to Seb the other day. People were staring at us at Hogsmeades, some protesters even threw water spells and hexes," exclaimed an elderly witch as she flicked her curly gray hair. "Really, Seb has lived in the magical world for years and he always loved seeing things he could never do. Sickle those puritists."

Her friend, a lanky blond man nodded. "Thank goodness for Minster Perkins. I don't know what we'll do without him. I say ignore those idiots."

"Hear, hear." The last member of the table, a short man with a long beard, raised his glass. "To sniffing out those buggers."

Ron laughed returning Harry's attention to his friends. "I like this world," Ron shared. "So much cheer."

Harry cast a silent Muffliato. He did not want any curious minds to hear. Too many people were already privy to their status.

"No blood purity controlling everything," Hermione agreed. "I think that after we finish the war we should return and figure out how this world became like this."

Ron twitched in his seat. He excitedly yelled, "Yeah, a vacation! We'll be the first ones ever to have one."

"We could start a travel agency. Across the Universe," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Start a universe exchange."

Harry liked that idea. Still fears clouded his head. The war was still occurring and every moment until Dobby located that knife was another moment of Voldemort's oppressive regime. Was Ginny all right? Harry looked for her dot this morning and discovered it missing. Images of her lying limp while Voldemort tortured her haunted him. The only solace Harry found was discovering Voldemort's mind frantic over the Taboo business.

"Great idea," Harry shared. "But know that we're reasonably alone I want to tell you about my plan. To break into Gringotts."

He was interrupted by a familiar jovial voice. "What's with all this strange buzzing sound?"

In surprise, Harry stubbed his toe against the table. Ron twitched, almost standing, as if uncertain whether he should cheer. Hermione just smiled, leaking small tears.

The questioner bore the long white hair of the man Harry revered the past few years. Albus Dumbledore stepped over a puddle before sitting on a free chair at their table. The table rocked as Dumbledore's long grey beard clucked against it.

"New spell?" Dumbledore glanced around the room and gestured to a worker who was cleaning glasses at the bar. "Oi, Nick, these folks created some spell. One that sounds like those bees we used to tend to. Remember?"

Harry silently ended the spell. He stared at Dumbledore and longed for him to nod his head with understanding. For Dumbledore say he recognized them as the trio he sent to finish a war. That the Dumbledore he knew was as alive as this one.

The worker left the empty bar. While walking to where they were Nick replied, "Al, I remember it like yesterday. There we were fresh from the war and dealing with those crazy critters. No dragons, no Inferi, just bees, hornets and the nasty yellow jackets. Who thought the heroes of the war could not face some measly pests."

"One buzzed into my ear," Dumbledore continued.

"And would have stuck its stinger if it wasn't for my well timed banishing," Nick finished.

Then the two looked at Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Sorry," Dumbledore apologized. "You look like newcomers so your probably not familiar but at The Goat's Pen the staff often mingle with the customers."

"Its my favorite thing about this place. Something The Leaky Caldron never had," said the gray-haired customer from the table next to them. "I'm Martha, by the way."

"What happened to The Leaky Caldron?" Hermione asked.

"What happened to The Leaky Caldron?" Nick exclaimed. His wrinkles became prominent. At that moment Harry recognized the man as older than he first looked. "It was destroyed during the war."

"What war?" Ron blurted.

"Where are you folks from? The war's old news," The customer with a long beard scooted his chair closer to Harry.

"The countryside," Hermione explained. "We aren't familiar with the political and cultural aspirations of the world. We grew up in a pretty closed-off town."

"Ah," Dumbledore nodded. "That explains it. Well The Leaky Cauldron was destroyed during this war back in the forties so I guess it is not that strange that you haven't heard of it. Time goes so quickly for folks like us. I was in it during the explosion. I saw the two lords wink with pride in the midst of the fire."

"The previous barman, Tom," Nick explained. "Fought valiantly against the two lords. Even when he was cut near his throat, blood spraying everywhere."

"He was so frightened for days after that. Filled with self-loathing, like he should be blamed. So worried that the lords would finish him off," Martha added pensively. "Poor Tom. And they did on the 10th of November."

"November a ten, a day long recalled," the two other customers sang. "Lords whispered and cawed, bend to us or die, aye, aye. No, said Al, the greatest of wizards, hah, hah, dead, dead, aye, aye."

"Eventually the lords were killed by Aberforth," Nick shared and then snorted. "The last line of the song sucks."

"Aberforth," Harry murmured. He heard that name before. Somewhere.

"That's me," Dumbledore, well Alberforth, said. "Its not a joyous story. I am not proud at how it ended."

Nick placed a comforting hand on Alberforth's shoulder. "Enough with sadness, what's your folks names?"

Ron started giggling, obviously thinking about the names the three friends picked earlier. Hermione glared at him.

"Sorry," Ron atoned. "Spare thought."

"I am Sirius Buckbeak," Harry introduced himself. "And these are my cousins Ron and Ginny Buckbeak."

"Buckbeak, you say," a loud voice cried from across the room. "Nice, I once had a Hippogriff named Buckbeak. Bright fellow."

The newcomer stood out in the dark restaurant. He was both taller than human and ginormous in behavior. Rubeous Hagrid clamored to the now crowded section. He bumped into some chairs before sitting down on two chairs next to Alberforth.

"Rubeous," Nick cried and pressed his hands on his heart. "Did you win, please, please?"

Hagrid beamed. "I did. Laura is officially emancipated. She can finally do what she wants without her awful folks." He turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "I don't normally talk bad about anyone, but this sweet girl had to deal with the nastiest lot. Can't disclose too much, client confidentially and all, but her parents had the worst notions of non-magical. Using the derogatory term muggle." Hagrid snorted at that word.

"Hagrid here is a lawyer," Nick explained. "Finest one there is."

Hagrid bowed his head, a grin covering his face. "How you charm me. You're the one who helped me talk properly. You guys should have seen me in school. I talked in this accent that no one understood."

"Those stupid idiots," Nick scoffed. "Couldn't deal with a new way of talking. Someday I hope you forget appeasing to those idiots and use your voice again."

Hagrid sighed, "We have this conversation, again and again. I rather have a good job than look like a fool."

"They can go on like this for hours," Martha related. "I side with Nick but Hagrid can always turn the conversation around. He's that amazing a debater."

"Like Hermione," Ron proclaimed. "She can always articulate what she feels without looking freaked."

Well, Harry knew that was an exaggeration. The tent scene revealed the emotions could overthrow Hermione's typical logical demeanor. "Well," Harry added. "She always puts us in our place."

Martha twitched her eyebrows and said, "I hope to meet your friend sometime. To see if she can outdebate Rubeous."

"Yes," Hagrid turned from Nick to them. "I say we need to always know our skills. Like Laura, smart one, is the best dueler I know. And it almost put me in a pickle. You see the prosecution wanted to use one event against her as her abusing her own parents. Luckily I turned it around with a claim of self-defense."

Harry, Ron and Hermione continued to listen to Hagrid and the others. As always, despite declaring not to, Hagrid divulged too much information. At the end of the night, they learned that Laura's parents locked her in a basement for befriending a muggle, used curses they never heard of, like one that flayed skin, and stored muggle blood for profit. Apparently muggle blood caused a terrible potion that turned someone into a moth forever. The Ministry was working constantly on finding an antidote.

555

Fleur chewed on some lamb her husband cooked for dinner. Bill stared at his plate, not eating a bite. She knew he was annoyed and still insisted that their visitors were insane. But she hoped that now that they were out he would calm down and enjoy a peaceful dinner.

Instead she received this quiet meal. Well, if Bill wanted to be sullen, so be it. She did not need to talk to be happy. Like thinking about Hermione. How Fleur wished the Hermione she went to school with was like this girl. This girl was both bright and interesting. A girl Fleur learned so much from. A girl who promised Fleur she would visit again.

After Dobby left to find the knife, Fleur and Hermione engaged in a lively discussion on their lives. Fleur was touched that Hermione trusted Fleur with the knowledge of her world at war. Fleur wished that she could help Hermione face this scary situation. A situation of people lost in a whirlwind of fake governments and the constant fear of death. Fleur saw Hermione's tiny infraction of her lip when she almost said something she could not share. There were so many mysteries. How Fleur wished to join them.

"Pop." The clamoring sound resonated through the kitchen.

They heard a boyish screech, "Ack, why the table, couldn't you do the sofa."

Fleur and Bill rushed to the kitchen. They discovered a boy with short greasy haired lying on his back and wiggling his feet as he tried to place them on the floor. Dobby was next to him pulling on the boy's arm. "Get up. Get up," Dobby whispered.

"I won't get up with you slimy hands on me," the boy cried.

"Well, 'ello," Fleur greeted.

"Flurry," Dobby cried and hopped over to Fleur. "He has knife. Dobby found it."

The boy rolled his eyes as he regained his bearings. His annoyed frown transformed into a beaming smile when he saw Fleur. "Fleur Delacour. I can't believe it. I should've known that a brilliant mind like you did it."

Fleur was unsure which reaction she disliked the most from people. People commenting that she is an airhead. Bill's family's rough dismissal that implied she was an intruder to the family. Or this.

"This is our house," Bill mumbled. "How many intruders are coming Fleur?"

"No more," Fleur asserted. "Why did you bring eest boy Dobby?"

"Harry's Potter eyes and knife," Dobby answered.

The boy continued to look awestruck at Fleur as he took a seat by the food-cutting table. He played with the edges of a cutting board for a few seconds. His eyes glued to Fleur.

"So who put you up with the prank? I guess there is you and Bill. Who else is involved? Maybe Danielle," the boy discerned.

"And you must be?" Fleur guessed the boy was thinking about Hermione and her friends appearing at Hogwarts the day before.

"Harry Snape."

"Oh," Fleur gasped. "Dobby must have wanted 'arry to meet his alternate self."

"He has Harry Potter eyes," Dobby repeated his announcement from before. "And knife to bring Dobby home."

Fleur realized why. This boy had mostly different features from Harry Potter. The only similarities between the two were their noses, cheekbones and eyes. Besides the eyes, they were mostly commonly ignored parts.

"Great job," Fleur patted Dobby on his head. "As soon as 'ermione and friends come you can go 'ome."

"What should we do with the boy?" Bill looked at Harry. His hand itched towards the boy. Fleur imagined this irked Bill grabbing the boy and throwing him out the house.

"Tell him Dobby's story," Dobby insisted. "He make Harry Potter happy when he comes."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I'll give you the knife in exchange for all the juicy details. What's up with this elf?"

Fleur laughed. Some random boy thinks he deserves to know the truth. Hah.

Bill spilled. "These crazy folks came into our house last night with this ludicrous story of traveling dimensions. For some inconceivable reason Fleur believes them."

Fleur placed her hand on Bill's shoulder and thrust her elbow on his stomach. "Its not that baffling. They are. There are stories about this happening. We live in a world with magic. Nothing is impossible."

Harry rapidly nodded. "I'm with Fleur. Anything's possible."

Bill gave a haughty laugh. "There's no facts for you case."

"Pff," Fleur waved her hand. "You and your not believing in anything anymore. Like ever since you started working at the bank instead of Egypt you believe less and less in mythical things."

"Well in Egypt I learned that some things are just legends. You have no proof that they are not lunatics," Bill insisted sarcastically.

Tired of Bill's continuous assertion that she was wrong, Fleur yelled, "What about the fact they all became calm after they realized they were in a different world. What about the fact Ron knows so much about you. Stuff only a brother would know. What about the fact Hermione had the same childhood as the one I knew?"

"Why are so insistent in believing them?" Bill heaved a sigh and crunched his hand into a fist.

Fleur did not know. Her gut? Hermione's acting with genuine anxiety? Fleur looked at Harry who was peering at her chest. At that moment Fleur realized why. "Because I know what ees like. No one believed I could win that tournament and 'ere I am."

"I did," Harry peeped.

"You never even talked to me," Fleur screamed. Angry because she was trying to convince her fiancé and this boy just had to contribute. Acting like he actually knew her. Fleur returned to Bill. "All that year people were baffled like you were all day. How could she, they say, become champion? Look she lost the first and second task, what a waste, should be me. You must stop this. Acting like those stupid jealous berks. I did things in that maze you could only dream of."

Bills eyelashes flickered before proclaiming. "Its has nothing to do with that. I just know that I'm right."

"If only I could proof it. Get them to allow us to go, just for a second," Fleur whispered. Hermione became irritable the moment Fleur mentioned the possibility. Rattling on about danger.

Harry made an excited whistle, "I have an idea…"

A knock at the door interrupted the idea sharing. Though Fleur guessed Harry's idea had something to do with universe traveling.

Fleur led Bill and Harry to the front door. When she opened the door she discovered a young boy. His dirty blond hair frolicked with the wind and he clutched a letter.

The boy said, "So, I got this letter telling me to come here. Apparently you got what I'm looking for."

The boy glanced over Fleur and snickered, "I knew it was you Snape. I knew it."

555

Ron Weasley expected to return to Shells Cottage with Fleur and Bill lounging on the sofa. He did not expect to find them entertaining two guests with familiar features. One reminded him of his best friends hair in a lighter color and the other made him scream.

"Murderer," Ron yelled, pointing at the boy with Snape's ugly draping hair.

"Snape," Hermione snarled.

Ron noticed Harry staring at the younger replica of his least favorite professor. Harry asked, "Why is there a Snape here, Dobby?"

"A Snape," Dobby said, his big blue eyes flicking between Harry and the Snape. "Dobby don't know what a Snape is. I just brought boy with Harry Potter's eyes. Is Harry Potter not happy."

"Dobby," Ron laughed. "Don't you know Snape is the greasy git who killed Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore?" The Snape looked confused. Ron liked seeing a face like Snape's without his degenerating sneers. So much better all flopped. "You mean the creepy pub guy?"

"No," Hermione shared. "Our school's headmaster. Fleur what did you tell them?"

Fleur shrugged her shoulders, "I wasn't planning on letting them know but than Bill told them."

Bill laughed, "I'm just trying to warn them about these loonies."

Ron disliked that statement, but the guy with gross hair was the main problem. "Am I the only one who doesn't want a Snape here? A guy like that murderer."

The dirty blond hair boy hollered, "I with ya. The Snape's are all scumbags."

Harry asked, "Are you a Potter?"

"Yep," the boy replied. "I'm Justin Potter. I heard you're from another world. I was freaking out all day. So glad the answer is so simple."

The Snape snipped, "How dare you, call me a murderer. You don't even now you. But I should expect this surrounded by fools brainwashed by Potters."

"Oy," Justin snapped. "We don't do that snicky trick, Snape. You're just jealous that Potters are more likable. Better than your pussy ass."

"Well," Harry explained. "Severus Snape in our world is a murderer. But that has nothing to do with him being a Snape. He's just that bad a person."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "We should not associate this Snape with the Snape we know."

"He looks just like the bastard," Ron blurted. "The man that betrayed us, the man who ruined all our Potions classes as the DADA class sixth year."

The Snape jumped out his chair and stomped over to Ron. He pressed a sweaty fist against Ron's stomach. "Do you ever call my father a bastard again. He is far better than you'll ever be. I only known you one second and I can already tell you're as bad as a Potter. My father is not the guy you know, so don't act like he should be blamed for what some fool did."

Ron pushed the fist from his chest. "Maybe he is, maybe he isn't but I know for sure I can't stand your face. Your slimy hair. You're…" Ron looked deeply into the Snape's green eyes and gasped, "Harry's eyes."

Dobby squeaked, "Yes boy got Harry Potter's eyes."

Ron became transfixed at these green eyes, as bright as emeralds. Eyes like the ones that laughed when Ron made a joke. Eyes in pain like Harry's were so many terrible times. Why would a Snape have Harry's eyes? It could not be. Snape could never deserve love. Snape was too cruel and too unfair. Snape was a villain. Yet somehow in this world Harry's mother would conceive a Snape.

Ron turned to Harry clumped on a chair, his eyes staring at nothing. Hermione sat next to him. Ron moved over to his friends. Ron made the best joke he could think of, a stupid one, "At least we can say in our world a bat has no wings."

"Huh," Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged his shoulder, "Just making a terrible joke. Can you believe it Lily Potter with Snape? His steaming breath probably scared her for life as his…"

"Ron," Harry croaked. "Don't give me nightmares."

True. Ron realized that the best thing to do was to leave this world. Far away from the possibility of Snape having sex. "Let's leave. Dobby did you get the knife?"

"Dobby does. The Snape gave it to Dobby."

The three friends gathered together with Dobby. Ron noticed Hermione smile at Fleur who smiled back. The Snape and Bill glared while Justin whistled.

"Well," Harry said. "It's been fun, but its time we return home. It probably is a good idea that you all ignore alternate universes. You probably won't like what you find."

Ron hoped Hermione's theory that the knife in house-elf blood caused them to emerge into this new universe. This universe's appeal was dispelled thanks to this new development.

Ron stood with Harry, Hermione and Dobby, their hands together in a line, and watched Hermione gently pressed the knife into Dobby's tiny wrist. Like lifting off on a broom, they disappeared from the room.

The next thing Ron remembered was McGonagall's face staring at him, with a worried frown. He heard Harry and Hermione's waking breaths and Dobby chatting with a woman. The woman chatting with Dobby wore an apron and tied her knotty brown hair in a ponytail.

McGonagall opened her mouth, "Who are you four? Why do you keep apparating into Hogwarts. I need answers."

555

Those folks were a bit dumb. Did not even try to obliviate them or even continue the fight. They just left like he, Harry Snape, did not matter. After calling his father a murderer and bastard. Well, Harry planned to prove them wrong. If Potter wanted to join them, so be it.

"Are you ready to visit another world?" Harry asked.

"Not going to fight with me about me going too?" Potter smirked.

They had fought over the idea before the dimension travelers returned to the cottage. Some hexes were torched.

Harry responded, "Nah, I can leave you as soon as we get there."

Potter called his house-elf. Soon Harry, Potter, Fleur, and Bill formed their own line with Potter's elf. Harry stabbed the arm of Potter's elf with the knife he located in his father's study.

The next thing Harry saw was a man with a pallid face calling, "Alecto, we got visitors."