Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter

Oh yeah…this is the second last chapter. Sniffle.

Chapter XIV- It Started With a Handshake…

Giggle.

Draco stopped right in his tracks, at the door Tommy was pointing at. "Right in there, Daddy. I saws him go in there with girls!"

"You did, did you?" He plopped Katrine down onto the floor. "Just stay here with your sister a bit. Do NOT go wandering off!" Draco knew his house elf practiced things that were rather…unsavory, things that he would rather not have his children know about. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

"YEEK!"

He shut the door. Scarred. For. Life.

Picking up both his children, he ran, with a rush of adrenaline, down the hall. He could hear the door fly open behind him, but he didn't stop to look. He just ran.

"Master Draco!"

"AAAAAH! Go away!"

Tommy and Katrine were slowly slipping from his grasp, and his arms were aching with fatigue. Desperate, he spotted a bevy of retreating fangirls, and prayed to God that they were the 'good' kind.

"Who….do…you…ship…?" he panted. They turned around, and quickly grabbed his kids, right before he collapsed onto the ground.

"Tut tut tut, Mister mal-McIsaac. You aren't the young, nubile man you once were."

His eyes flew open at the sound of that voice. It was Steven Snape, surrounded by the girls.

"Steven? You're a-"

"Draco/Hermione shipper?" He grinned. "How could I not be?"

"-Harry Potter fan?" Draco finished. He threw a look over his shoulder, and was relieved to see that he had lost his disgusting servant. For now, that is.

The fangirls helped him to his feet, and brushed off his robes for him. One of them gave him a small smile. He returned it.

"Thanks a million."

Suddenly, all the fangirls gasped as one, and stared at something behind him. He turned around, holding his children towards him tightly.

"Oh, not you."

Dobby hobbled up to him, his entire body beet red. The girls began to whisper, stuff about 'mirrors', 'CGI', and 'puppets'. Draco waved at Steven, then tore down the hall, hoping that his house elf was following.

AVAVAVAVAVA

"At last. I have you all where I want you!" Lord Dimitrius was obviously enjoying this moment, and he was determined to make it last. "Thanks to my evil minions, I now I have the supreme power to take over the world!"

Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione. They had heard this speech many times before, first the thank-yous, then the ego trips, than finally the entire evil plan, all regurgitated in that order.

"I am sure you are all wondering why you are here," he remarked. He was met by blank, uninterested stares. Somebody would come. They always did.

Every single stinking year, Dimitrius would come, most likely to rid the world of the evils of truth and love, or something. After the fourth year, they didn't pay much attention. There was only so many times he could scare the living crap out of them.

"Well….. I suppose you aren't wondering. Um…" Hermione nearly laughed at the fact that he was speechless, his little tirade ruined by their disinterest.

"Aren't you going to tell us your evil plan?" Ginny urged, Neville suppressing gigantic giggles.

Dimitrius cheered up a bit, and continued. "My greatest help came from one Fred Weasley. He needed the money to continue his petty shop. The money came from, well, maybe I shouldn't tell you."

Neville stuck out his tongue. "Tease."

"Alright then, I will tell. It was someone who would make a giant profit off of imprisoning you three." He held out his hands, as if he had given it away. They stared back at him, clueless. He groaned. "it was The Author."

"Oh." Neville turned towards the two girls, who only looked mildly interested. "Is that it. I always suspected there was something wrong with her."

"What's wrong with you three?!?" The Dark Lord exclaimed. I must have picked the wrong three to imprison. These three are no fun!

" Well then," he said, feigning boredom. "I guess I'd better go. Care to join me?"

Ah. He said the magic words.

"You…you…you know the way back?" Ginny sputtered. Dimitrius nodded.

"I do. And you don't"

AVAVAVA

Draco burst into Bumblebee's office, a whirlwind of children and one horny house-elf. "ALBERT! Do you know where Hermione is?"

The elderly Headmaster looked up at the intruder and ushered him to a chair next to his desk. "Not yet, Draco, but I hope to soon."

Draco sat down in the squashy chair, and looked around. Harry and Ron were also there, as was Pansy, minus the children.

"Ginny and Neville are missing," Ron informed him. "They have been for several days."

Pansy sniffled a bit, and Harry handed her his hanky. He looked up, with pleading eyes. "So, you can find them?"

Bumblebee shook his head. "We do, however, have a lead. One of his minions sent a note to the Academy, on his orders." He took a small piece of parchment from his desk, and read;

ALBERT. STOP. I HAVE THE MUDBLOOD. STOP. YOU CAN NEVER CATCH ME THIS TIME. STOP. THE WORLD IS MINE. STOP. UP YOURS HARRY POTTER. STOP.

"Upon further investigation, and questioning of your brother, Ron, we found out that Dimitrius is also holding Ginny, and Neville, and that they are in a reality that can only be reached through Fred's magic devices."

Draco was pale as parchment. "So, where is this 'reality'?"

"It could possibly be an alternate dimension," Bumblebee mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "One where Harry did not shake your hand at the beginning of the school year, therefore jeopardizing their friendship that is now established in this dimension. Or, it could be a manifestation of imagination, something that I have heard of before."

"So the absence of that one handshake could change an entire reality?" Harry asked. Bumblebee nodded.

"It seems as though this dimension was radically altered by that handshake. From it stemmed the House-Elf rebellion, the Mudblood Revolt, and countless other things. Your friendship with Draco changed the way Purebloods looked at Muggle-borns." He ruffled Tommy's hair. "I can go so far as to say that without that handshake, Draco and Hermione would have never ended up together."

"So, how do we get there?" Ron asked, tears in his eyes.

"According to Fred, the only way to get there is through his device, which he has run out of."

"Great."

The motley crew sat there, hopeless and lost, until Tommy piped up, "Don't worry. Mummy is there! Mummy knows everything!"

Draco smiled, and held his son close. "I hope so, Tommy. I really hope so."

AVAVAVAVA

An: this chapter was rather strange, as I kind of wrote it backward, starting from Bumblebee saying "It could possibly be an alternate dimension." I really liked the idea of the real world being the one where Harry shook Malfoy' hand, because I always wonder what would have happened if he did.

OMIGOD, one of my friends told me about this guy she knows, who hit his girlfriend in the head with a golf ball! Then she broke up with him. Poor guy.

In his honour, I will give everyone a golf ball made of ice cream, and a bowl of strawberries with sugar

The Reviewers who reviewed so reviewed-ly

Miranda G. Potter: you are a good guess-er (my computer told me that wasn't a real word)

mrs w00d nd malf0y: he seems as though he has lost some weight since the second movie. He looked kinda like a rat in this one

wingless87 I could see him doing that too! He seems like the kinda of guy who doesn't really give a flying shoe of what people think of him

The Nauti Dolphin: here, have some pickles. I read about the dobby in Martha Stewart, since she would be one of the only two people in the world who actually cared that much about towels

Horny-Cotter: I think that I'll give her a cameo in my other story

Mystical Spirits: if you want to wipe your razor off on a towel, do it on the dobby, so that you won't get towel fluff stuck between your blades

T'Lorie: no, I'm sorry, I'm not that brilliant. I think it started at (btw, the d/hr ship is called the SS Leather and Libraries.

Allie-Dee: Please don't, I'd never be able to get the pickled smell out of my hair

DiggaDigga: no, actually, he isn't. ;)

lildaisygirl24: if you still don't get it by the end of the story, I can explain it to you

FriesWithThat: where in the mountains? Mountains rock.