Chapter 3

This is here:

"So what you're saying is that you're a professional Quidditch player for Puddlemere United, have never, ever seen Voldemort in person and have been Severus Snape's lover for the last two years?"

"Pretty much, yes," Harry said.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Ron said.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

"No, it's fine," Harry shrugged. "It is quite a shock, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Hermione assured him, then glared at the man sitting next to her, "Professor Snape is probably a perfectly nice man where Harry comes from, Ron!"

"But he's gay!"

"So?"

"I take it that I'm not, here," Harry said quietly.

"No! You went out with my sister!"

"Ginny Weasley? She's… erm… nice."

"Nice?!" Ron's ears turned an alarming shade of red.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I think we have to focus on the important issues here, don't you two agree? And that is how this Harry got to be here, where our Harry is now – if they've swapped places, I mean – and, most importantly, how to get him back. We'll have to go back to York tomorrow and buy that bowl so I can find out exactly how it works. In the meantime, I suggest we all go to bed."

"I'm not sleeping in the same room as him!" Ron said rebelliously.

"Ron!"

"No, it's all right," Harry said, "I'm going to sleep here on the couch. Not that I'd be interested in molesting you anyway," he snapped at the other man, "I prefer my lovers to have half a brain and to not be homophobic, thank you very much."

"I'm not-" Ron began, but a furious Hermione dragged him out of the room and shut the door firmly behind her.

This isn't:

Snape drew his wand as Harry turned around and raised an eyebrow, asking, "Have you taken leave of your senses? If you want to end this relationship there's no need to go about it in such a dramatic manner."

"About that," Harry said, "Er… I think there's an, um, misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? It looked quite clear from my point of view, I assure you."

"Listen," Harry said desperately, sitting down in the armchair, "I'm not who you think I am. Where I come from, I loathe you with a passion, so I, um, overreacted a bit when I saw you."

"Yes, I'd noticed," Snape said drily; his wand didn't lower though. "And where, pray tell, do you come from?"

"I don't know. I just looked into that bowl… I was in a shop," Harry explained, "And the shopkeeper said that he had something to show me. Next thing I remember I wake up here. Listen, I'm really sorry for punching you and, er, invading your mind."

"Do you know that using Legilimens on another witch or wizard like that is punishable by law?" Severus asked in a dark tone. "With that amount of coercion involved you could have ripped my mind apart; you could have destroyed my magic. You must hate me quite a lot to disregard the consequences of your actions."

"I want to kill you," Harry muttered, "Well, not… you, obviously, but the Snape I know."

"Ah. Well, in that case, wait here."

Severus rose, quite slowly as if movement pained him; he grimaced and left the room, coming back with a small, wooden bowl that Harry recognised with a jolt.

"That's it!" he cried, "I looked into that one before I fainted."

"Perhaps it will work again, then."

Looking into the clear water, all Harry could see were swirling shadows; brief flashes of colourful images that remained unclear. He sat back, frustrated.

"It doesn't work," he said miserably. "It doesn't work."

"Perhaps you need something to trigger it? The probability is great that Harry… my Harry is now where you come from. Perhaps you switched places, although only in your minds… Your body seems to be the same, at least I don't notice any outward changes."

Harry shrugged; he felt pretty much the same as always, no limbs missing.

"Where'd you get that bowl from, anyway?"

"Albus Dumbledore gave it to me," Severus explained, "I've just started my research on it. Most of the books are in Latin and German and the anti-copy spells on them also prevent translation charms, so work has been slow."

"Is that what it does, though? Throw people into other realities? Is it a real change or does it make me hallucinate?"

"I don't think so. I believe that you and my Harry changed places, although this requires quite a lot of magical energy… I really can't say anymore just at this point."

"So you can't send me back."

"Not without further research, no."

"Great."

Harry rubbed his face tiredly. It had been a long, frustrating day and to find out that he was stuck in this odd reality wasn't helping matters at all.

"So what now?" he asked, "I'm not keen on staying here and I bet you're not too hot about that prospect either."

Severus was silent for a few moments, seemingly lost in though. "I suggest you try and blend in for the foreseeable future. It won't be difficult as it's the weekend and you won't have Quidditch practice –"

"Quidditch practice? But what about the war? There is one here, right?"

"Not officially. You and I are members of the Order of the Phoenix which fights against Lord Voldemort and his followers. If I heard Remus correctly, there's an Order meeting tomorrow that both you and I have to attend, including one of Molly's odious dinners. I'll try and find a way for you to get back home before that."

"Can I… Can I help you somehow? Read books or something?"

Snape shook his head. "Not at the moment, no. I'm still busy trying to sort through them, finding out what could be relevant or not."

"I'm really sorry," Harry blurted out, "I really didn't know… I, erm… well."

"One thing that hasn't changed is your atrocious grasp of the English language, I see," Severs noted drily. "Tell me, what did I do to merit such hate? I believe you mentioned something about me being a murderer."

"You betrayed the Order," Harry said bitterly, "You had us all fooled – Dumbledore trusted you to be a spy and you murdered him when Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts. Plus, you were a right bastard to me when you taught at Hogwarts."

Severus released a short bark of laughter. "My, what a career! A teacher and a Death Eater!"

"It's not funny!" snapped Harry and the other man sobered.

"Of course not. But let me reassure you, I never was, nor will ever be one of Lord Voldemort's obedient servants."

"You don't wear a Dark Mark."

Stretching out his left arm, Severus smiled. "See for yourself."

"I'm… I know you'd rather have your Harry back, not some crazy wizard who attacks you on sight."

"That goes without saying. Nevertheless, what's done is done. I just hope that I can help the both of you. Just tell me… Wherever he is, is he safe?"

What answer could Harry possibly give to that question? His world was ravaged by a violent war that was slowly tearing the wizarding world apart; everybody except Ron, Hermione and Remus though him dead and gone; their little group was slowly running out of money to fund the hunt for the remaining horcruxes, not to mention time as Voldemort took – slowly but surely – hold of the Ministry of Magic.

"I don't know," he said frankly. "He's got my friends to watch out for him."

He just hoped that Ron and Hermione had found the other Harry in the meantime. The consequences of him wandering through wizarding York alone, confused and without having used Polyjuice Potion would be disastrous.

Severus stood up and picked up the bowl. "In that case… What you could do is to write down everything leading up to your swapping places… exact date, place, etc. And, perhaps, some significant discrepancies between your world and mine."

"I'm not gay," Harry said hastily.

The other man snorted. "There is that. You know, there is a theory – a Muggle one – that there is an infinite number of realities in this universe; that for every decision ever made, from the atomic level of probability distribution and statistics, to human actions on a much greater scale, a new reality is created, which splits one reality into two separate ones: One where an affirmative decision has been made and one where it hasn't. An educated guess is that you are from such a reality. It would be interesting to find out just where this split occurred."

"And you assume that I understand what you've just talked about," Harry muttered, then yawned.

"Perhaps not. You should go to bed; it's past midnight and the list has time until tomorrow. There's a bedroom upstairs, or a guestroom, whichever you prefer. Good night."

"Ta," Harry said and watched Snape leave the room.

The staircase to the upper floor of the house was dark and narrow. Harry was surprised to find a working Muggle light switch. He opened the first door to the right: This was a bedroom, with wardrobes, pictures on the wall and some clothes strewn across a large, double-sized bed. He swallowed as he realized that this must be the room he… the other Harry shared with Snape. The bed they shared, they bed they had sex in. He couldn't help a slight shudder of disgust and closed the door quickly.

The next door led to a smaller bedroom that was obviously unused; and hearing Snape pottering around in the kitchen he quickly entered it, closing and locking the door. He curled up on the bed without even bothering to take off his shoes and stared at the dark wall for a long time before finally falling asleep.

Severus, after leaving Harry in the sitting room, slowly stared to make some fresh tea when he noticed his lover's cup now sitting forgotten on the counter. He re-heated it with a tap of his wand and sipped it carefully. He despised herbal infusions, always had; but this was Harry's, his Harry's favourite and he wanted to feel close to him right now.

It was a long time before he opened one of the books lying in front of him and began to read.