Sold-Chapter 19-Arrival

By Marmalade Fever

Bellatrix Lestrange was puzzled. She was pouring over her copy of "An Alternate Life," which was, to her knowledge, the only copy left after the great book burning of the Crabbes. Why hadn't it worked? She had done exactly as the spell had said. She had triple-read every footnote. So what had gone wrong?

It was terrible to lie before her master. She had done so on few occasions. It would be all right, she told herself. No one would believe her brother-in-law. He was naught but a senile old man.

It was on rare occasions that she would admit to confusion. Why was it that only herself and Lucius could read that scrap of paper? Albus, it said. There could be only one Albus, and that was Albus Dumbledore. The problem was that Albus Dumbledore was dead. He had been for about a decade. But… surely there might be a living Dumbledore in the alternate dimension? If that were true, she was to blame. She wanted Lily Potter and Lily Potter alone.

She had waited for hours in her laboratory for the girl to appear. It should have been instantaneous. Now it had been over a week, and still no child of the Boy.

There must be an answer, there must! But there was no way that she could have fudged the spell. Her failure must have occurred in the other dimension. There could be no other explanation.

And so she set to work analyzing the scraps of paper.

…

There were several people in the room whom Draco was totally unfamiliar with, and, to the looks of it, so was Granger. Standing beside Potter was a nice-looking woman with Lily's chin. The girl's mother, apparently. Weasley was there, a brown-haired woman at his side. Then Draco nearly had a coughing fit. Standing beside Longbottom, heavily pregnant and holding hands with the fool of a man, was his own deceased wife, Antoine Bellover. In the two seconds it took for him to get over his initial shock he was greeted by Albus Dumbledore.

"Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, his eyes gleaming in that old familiar way.

"Professor Dumbledore," Draco replied, temporarily unsure of how to behave in this new dimension.

"I would like to thank you for ensuring the safety of these children," he continued, casting Draco's hesitancy aside for the moment.

Draco simply nodded, keeping his eyes locked with the old man's. He was a bit too trusting. It was disturbing, really.

"And Miss Granger!" Dumbledore cried with deeper enthusiasm, taking the mudblood's hand and placing a small kiss on her knuckles. "My dear… are you all right?"

Granger… his Granger, (not that she was his other than in a master and slave sense,) was looking suddenly drained. "I…" she began, and then the tears began to fall heavily and the old Headmaster cradled her in his arms. There was quite a shuffle as the others in the room rushed to comfort her and Draco was left momentarily forgotten… almost. Draco had not noticed the presence of Professor Snape, and his former professor was quick to approach him.

"It is good to se you again, Mr. Malfoy. It has been too long."

Draco frowned. "I'm right over there," he said, pointing to his short-haired self who was actually hugging Granger.

"Yes, that is Draco Malfoy, but not as I remember him. The marriage left him a changed man. Love makes a difficult adversary." Draco frowned, but it was at that moment that Granger, or rather Mrs. Malfoy, approached him. Her hair was long and bushy as it was in her school days.

"Draco?" she asked, offering her hand to shake.

"Call me Malfoy," he said, not taking her proffered hand.

"Draco," she insisted, though she dropped her hand. "We were wondering if you might like to stay at our house for awhile."

"Wouldn't that get confusing, Granger?" he asked.

"My surname hasn't been Granger in twelve years. I'm just as much a Malfoy as you. As for being confusing… that's just a risk we'll have to take. You can't tell me you actually remembered to bring money?"

Draco frowned. She was right, as usual. He had come without any sort of plan.

"Besides," she continued, "she's already agreed to stay with us."

"And what makes you think that that would make a difference?"

"Let's just say that I've become an expert on Draco Malfoy psychology." As if in answer to his name, Draco's counterpart took this moment to introduce himself.

"Well, if it isn't me," he said. Unlike his wife, he didn't offer his hand.

"So it would seem," Draco replied, frowning. Both stared for a long moment before the counterpart broke into a grin and Draco broke into a lop-sided sneer.

"The long hair does suit us, then? I never had the patience to grow it out."

"Once it gets past the chin, there's not turning back. I haven't had it cut in four years." Both smirks deepened.

"Well, this is a cheery reunion," Hermione Malfoy said, with her own brand of smirk in place. "Draco," she turned to her husband and Draco watched in slight horror, "I'm taking Evander down to the Great Hall." She kissed him on the cheek and was gone, leaving Draco to blink after witnessing such a supernatural exchange. Across the room he caught eyes with Granger and she stared unblinkingly.

"Do you think," he said slowly to his short-haired self, "that Mother and Father would take kindly to a visit?"

"From you… yes. From me… doubtful," was the reply.

"I think I might stay with them for awhile."

"Didn't Hermione invite you to stay with us?" His eyebrows knit.

"You, of all people, should understand that I would much rather not."

"True, but there is our overwhelming curiosity to take into account."

"What do I have to be curious about?" Draco asked, bristling.

The other Draco studied him for a long moment. "Why are you here?" Draco felt as if a cat had caught his tongue. "Exactly."

…

Hermione watched as the two Malfoys broke apart and the one who was, apparently, her counterpart's loving husband came to talk to her again. "Feeling okay?" he asked, placing his hand on her shoulder in a friendly gesture.

"I will be. It's just…"

"You can trust me."

"You don't know what it's like in my world," she said softly.

"No, no I don't. Try me, though." His tone was so much softer than the Malfoy who had bought her in an auction.

"Voldemort's in power," she said simply. The look on his face was pure terror.

"The letter said that there were Death Eaters, but I never dreamed…"

"I haven't seen Harry in a very long time. Nor has anyone else. Ron," her voice cracked, "Ron is dead. Dumbledore is dead…"

"And what happened to you?" he asked, clutching her hand in his.

"Five years of Death Eater custody." She lifted her hand slowly to point to the other Malfoy across the room. "H-he, he bought me at a 'Mudblood Auction.'"

The look on the man's face held so much concern that she was actually beginning to understand how her other self could have ended up with him. He was nothing like Malfoy. "If he hurt you, I swear… I'll…"

"Don't beat yourself up about it," she said, a small smile alighting her lips. "No, he never hurt me, not physically. If he hadn't bought me and fed me… I don't think I could have lasted much longer."

"Good, very good," he said in relief. "I'd like to apologize for his behavior."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day that Draco Malfoy would apologize to me."

"You should have seen the look on Neville's face when I apologized to him."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She hugged Draco Malfoy. Across the room, the other Draco Malfoy's eyes grew round with wonder.

A.N.: Aw, CMG Draco is so much nicer than Sold Draco! I dropped my Friday class, so that will give me at least one day a week when I can work on this. Oh, I have to tell you how wonderful my creative writing class is! My teacher compared herself to Minerva McGonagall! And someone said I was the coolest person in the class!