Chapter Two -
Carry On Wayward Son
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreamin',
I can hear them say
Carry on my wayward son,
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Now don't you cry no more
Kansas
Sarah's eyes were stinging even before she opened them. Dust tickled her lungs and she woke coughing and spluttering, shards of glass spilling from every fold in her clothing. She shook her hair to dislodge as much debris as possible, then blinked in the bright sunshine, confused.
She sat alone in the old classroom, and instantly her back was up, snatching for her wand amidst the glass and looking about the room. "Draco?" she whispered, her heart pounding. The last thing she remembered was the terrible storm and the huge window shattering. She must have hit her head or something because she'd definitely blacked out. She guessed she'd been there for some time, as the storm had completely blown itself out to blue skies again.
Her heart was thudding and she gently touched the sore spot at the back of her head. Where was Draco? Had he left her? The thought flared anger through her, but she tried to cling to reason. He wouldn't have left her passed out in the middle of a pool of broken glass, he just wouldn't. There must be another explanation.
And that made her nervous.
Standing, she fired a quick 'Reparo' spell at the window. Once reassembled the pane looked more like crazy paving than a window, but at least all the shards were no longer lodged in her clothes or littering the floor.
She looked at her watch, which told her the time was one o'clock and she'd been out for at least half an hour, if not more. The room looked exactly the same as when she'd entered it, it was just missing Draco. Her stomach was queasy. Had something bad happened to him?
Well, she wasn't going to find out hanging about in here. Her wand still clutched firmly in hand, she wrenched the heavy oak door open and looked both ways.
"Now, if I was a reformed, rather good looking ex-Death Eater," she said to herself. "Where would I be hiding?"
The headache came first. Before sight, sound or memory, the thud, thud, thud was what dragged Draco back into consciousness. Nausea rippled through him, and he felt limbs curling inwards as he tried to make sense of the world. His fingers began tingling; he took the fact he still had fingers to be a positive sign and worked up from there.
Someone was calling his name, and he screwed up his closed eyelids against what little light was threatening to filter through them. He was lying down, but the ground was soft, almost like a bed. Memories of a classroom were coming back to him, a window, a storm.
"How did this happen!" demanded an unfamiliar voice. A man, Draco thought, his accent a clipped English that his elocution teacher would have approved of.
Another voice sighed. "I was having a cup of tea," said an Irish accent defensively. "And the next thing I know everyone's yelling and fighting and – boom." He sounded irritated, but something about this voice was familiar to Draco, reassuring.
"Jia is simply going to have my guts for garters," said the first man. "As if the situation wasn't already bad enough."
Draco murmured and tried to stretch his legs, but they didn't seem to want to listen to him just yet.
"Is he waking up?" asked the Irish voice.
"Draco?" This was a girl's voice, and Draco felt the presence of the two men slipping away from him. The girl also sounded a bit familiar, wasn't he just with a girl?
Sarah. He suddenly remembered. "Sarah?" It wasn't her voice he was sure, but she had been there, he'd tried to pull her away, the window, the glass…his head.
He managed to will movement from his tingling fingers, and they reached up for his temple, the pounding drum skin that was trying to keep his skull in place. "Sarah?"
There was a pause, he could feel it. "Who's Sarah?" said the other girl's voice testily.
There was nothing for it, Draco had to open his eyes. It took him a few minutes, and even then he had to blink fervently against the torch light swamping everything around him. There were a lot of people gathered around, and as he groped about him he realised he was lying on a sofa not a bed. It took a few more blinks for the crowd to come into focus.
And then he wished it hadn't.
He was in the Slytherin common room. He gasped and flung himself against the back of the sofa, senses suddenly clear and sharp. "Pansy?" Pansy Parkinson was a pug-faced girl with a bob of crow's hair that Draco had spent the last few of his parents functions dodging for fear she would slobber all over him. Clingy, insecure and utterly deluded as she was, what shocked Draco most was that she and her family had fled the country the second the Dark Lord had fallen for fear of retribution from the Ministry, so what on Earth was she doing back at the school? And why had she brought him here, to this Godforsaken dungeon?
Wildly he looked about the other faces; two large, oafish boys he vaguely remembered as being called Crabbe and Goyle flanked the Parkinson girl, and behind them was a mixture of the familiar but unwelcome, and plain strangers.
"What am I doing here," he blurted out at Pansy's face, awash with concern that rankled him ever further. "What are you doing here?"
She looked hurt. "We were playing chess," she said, tears filling her eyes. "You collapsed, I was so worried, you've been passed out for ages, we were going to take you to the medical wing-"
"No," said Draco, waving his hands up and swinging his legs around into a sitting position. "No, no, no. I was in one of the old History rooms, there was a storm, why did you bring me here? I don't belong here."
Pansy looked at the two large boys, troubled. "Maybe…maybe you hit your head?" she said timidly. "We should get you to Pomfrey." She reached forward to take his arm and he snatched away.
"Get off me," he hissed, scrambling unsteadily to his feet as his vision swam and people gaped at him. He had to get out of this place and get back to Gryffindor. Hermione would know what to do. And Sarah, he had to find Sarah.
Pansy sniffed back tears and looked up at him mournfully from the ground. Crabbe or Goyle, one of the two, folded his arms and scowled even further. "You alright mate?" he grunted.
Draco was about to answer when he was stopped short by someone standing at the back of the crowd, hidden by a sheet of long brown hair. It was only when she made to step back and her hair swung away he recognized who it was. "Blaise?" he said, and pushed through the throng before she could move any further. Her eyes widened and she made to step back, but Draco took hold of her shoulders, confusion firing through him. "What's happened to you?" he asked in disbelief. It wasn't just the hair; the clothes were all different, she was practically cowering before him, and…
"Where's your scar?" he demanded as his eyes swept over her unblemished face. "Blaise, I just saw you, what have you done to yourself?"
She trembled like a rabbit caught in headlights. "Please," she whispered. "Please, I don't know…please let me go."
With horror Draco realized how hard his fingers had been digging into her in his panic. Instantly he let her go, and she fled down the stairs that led to the girls dormitories. Unfortunately, Pansy Parkinson found her voice again. "Draco Malfoy, just what is going on?" she cried, grabbing his shoulder and jerking him around. "I was looking after you, then you start calling out some other girl's name and run over to Blaise? Who's Sarah?"
He stared at he in disbelief. Was she getting jealous? The stupidity of such a notion brought him back to the matter at hand. He would find Blaise later, but right now he was in the wrong common room. "I don't know when you snuck back from Italy," he spat at her. "Or why you dragged me back into this place, but you have five seconds to explain before I leave."
Pansy screwed up her tear streaked face. "I've never been to Italy," she shot back. "And nobody dragged you anywhere, you've been here the whole morning since breakfast."
Draco looked at them coldly. He didn't know what they were up to, but he was pretty certain he preferred being hung out of the train by the Gryffindors; at least they had the decency to be upfront about assaulting him. "This conversation is over," he snapped, and moved to where he remembered the exit being.
"Malfoy, wait," called out one of the brutish boys. Draco whirled on his feet, fists and jaw equally clenched.
"Don't you call me that!" he snarled. "I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm finished here. And whatever you've done to Blaise," he added, finger jabbing at them threateningly. "You've got until dinner to fix it, before I come back and make you fix it, got it?"
He leant against the wall outside the Slytherin common room entrance panting, his head dizzy and still throbbing with a terrible dull banging. He felt violated, like he needed a shower. How dare they bring him back there! That wasn't who he was anymore, they had no right.
It was then he finally looked down and realized he was wearing different clothes. He gaped, unsure what to think. Had they changed him? Or had he just forgotten what he'd put on this morning? Was it still Sunday, had he lost more time than he thought? He didn't know.
His insides fluttered as he looked back at the common room. He hadn't wanted to leave Blaise; he'd just wanted to escape the confines of those dank walls, but now he was out and had some fresh breath in him he felt guilty. She obviously wasn't right. But perhaps he would be better to find some answers of his own then come back to help her? He was desperate to talk to Hermione, and he needed to find Sarah. Why hadn't they taken her with him? If they'd hurt her…
He made up his mind and began hurrying back to the Gryffindor common room. Hopefully Hermione would be there, and Sarah too. It was as good as place as any to start, but if not the library was a very good second option. With a small plan in place he felt better, and increased his stride to a jog.
At the last moment he took a turn and swung by the History of Magic classroom. He guessed in would be fruitless and he was right; it was empty save for several of the usual choice rude words scrawled across the blackboard and a handful of upturned chairs strewn around the tables at the edge of the room. The window he vaguely remembered splintering on top of he and Sarah was now hastily patched up like a cracked porcelain vase. He frowned at it before resuming his dash towards the Gryffindor common room.
He'd only gone up one flight of stairs before the back of a familiar head made his insides collapse in relief. "Sarah!" he called out, hands on hips as he sucked in a few triumphant breaths. She spun around at the end of the corridor, wand raised, hackles up, until she saw his face.
There was a brief moment of delight, that was clouded over almost instantaneously and her feet took over; she marched over, and thumped him firmly on the shoulder. "Where the HELL have you been?" she shouted, tears in her eyes. Draco's previous guilt trebled.
"Are you alright?" he fumbled. "I don't know if someone attacked us or something – I woke up in the Slytherin Common Room." Her eyes narrowed so he carried on. "I swear to you, we were moving away from that glass, and then-"
"-I conked out," she finished. "And I guess you did too." She folded her arms and furrowed her brow. Her eyes swept him up and down. "You're wearing different clothes."
Draco shrugged the sleeves, holding them up as if to prove how true her words were. "Yeah," he said, slowly. "I'm starting to think maybe we've been gone a long time or something – like a really long time. I just saw Blaise – her hair was really long and she seemed almost scared of me or something?"
Sarah Potter's sapphire blue eyes considered him for a little too long. "Yeah…" she said. "Or something."
Draco, looked carefully at her, but he couldn't tell what she was thinking. "I was on my way to the Gryffindor Tower, to find Hermione…" or something. He hadn't really thought that far ahead.
Sarah nodded. "Sounds fine to me," she muttered, and started off at a run. He did likewise, hot on her heals. They pelted up the familiar route, darting through any and all of the shortcuts they knew between them. It was when they were coming out of one such passage (a tunnel that connected one tapestry of a great feast to another depicting its aftermath) that Draco collided full one with a girl on the other side. It wasn't until they were both sprawled on the floor, library books scattered all around them that Draco realized who it was.
"Hermione!" he breathed out as Sarah did her best not to topple over him as she leapt from behind the tapestry. His face broke into a bright smile as he reached out for her arm.
Hermione shot back as if his hand was electrified. "Get away from me Malfoy!" she shrieked, a look of horror crossing her features. "Just what the Hell do you think you're doing?" She scrambled to her feet, sweeping up the books she had dropped when they had run into each other. "You should watch where you're going! Plus," she said, brandishing a torn copy of Advanced Potion-Making at him. "You hurt the books."
Draco couldn't summon a single word as she stalked off, flicking her especially curly hair back and huffing loudly. Bile rose in his throat. What about last night? he wanted to call after her. What about by the forest this morning, was that a lie? Had she been playing with him? He was frozen stiff, dread and embarrassment washing through him. Had she been having a laugh with Potter this entire time?
"Draco?" said Sarah softly, touching his arm. He'd completely forgotten she was there, and hastily got to his feet. "Are you-"
"I'm fine," he snapped, blinking his eyes rapidly. "I'm…I'm just…" He opened and closed his fists. "Let's just get to the common room."
They walked briskly rather than running. Draco still wanted to get to the tower, it was the only place that felt like home and he wanted to rid himself of the coldness from Slytherin dungeon. But a large reason why he'd wanted to go there had just humiliated and scorned him. Even with Sarah standing beside him he felt horribly alone.
Dean, he thought. Dean Thomas, he'll still be there, he won't give a flying monkey's what anyone else will think. Draco felt warmed, even hopeful, and moved a little faster.
The portrait of the Fat Lady was swinging open as they approached, and the two of them skidded to a halt before crashing into the frame. "Oh," said the girl emerging in surprise. "Sorry, I-" she looked them up and down, and Draco suddenly realized she was Sarah's friend Natalie McDonald. She had Quidditch robes on and held an old Cleansweep in one hand, the portrait edge in the other. "Can I help you?"
Sarah regarded her for a moment. "We're just going into the common room," she told her uncertainly.
Natalie's eyes flicked from her, then narrowed on Draco. "Sorry," she said slowly. "I didn't realise." She paused, one foot in and one foot out of the entrance. "You do know guests aren't really allowed without permission?"
Draco flared. "Guests?" he snarled, grabbing onto the painting and yanking it from her grasp. She tumbled out into the corridor and stared wide eyed at him.
"Sorry," she mumbled again, then sped off out of sight.
"What the Hell was that about?" demanded Draco, but Sarah was just staring after her best friend, mouth hanging open.
"I have no idea," she said, slowly turning and crawling into the entranceway. "But I'm not sure I liked it."
Draco followed behind her, heart thumping at the eagerness of seeing the familiar hangings and burning fireplace, but as soon as he and Sarah dropped into the common room all his eagerness vanished, and his heart thumped in panic instead.
Being a Sunday the room was fairly packed with Gryffindors socializing and working on assignments. And at the sight of Draco and Sarah, all of those nearest to them stopped what they were doing and stared.
A girl Draco didn't recognize with brilliant red hair was standing by one of the windows, riffling through a stack of parchment and talking to a shorter boy with mousy brown hair. Draco sort of recognized him as a Muggle born from the year below; he remembered the old fashioned camera around his scrawny neck more than his face. The two laughed as the girl happened to look over in Draco and Sarah's direction. A look of confusion flashed across her face, only to be replaced with one of, well, horror. She gasped and let out a shrill yelp, before dropping her entire pile of papers. The people around her initially laughed at her apparent clumsiness, but as soon as they looked over in the same direction, the conversation stilted horribly, and the entire rest of the room turned to stare.
"What's going on," whispered Sarah, moving closer to Draco and taking hold of his shirt sleeve. "What's going on!" she shouted at the room. "What are you all staring at!"
The girl by the fireplace moved forwards, colour rising in her cheeks to match her crimson hair. "I think," she said, trembling slightly with anger. "You're in the wrong place. I don't know how you got here, but I think it's best you leave."
Draco had had just about enough of this. "This is my common room," he yelled back, eyes sweeping round the room for a friendly face and finding none. "I don't know what everyone's playing at but it ends now!"
People stared at him in confusion, and the red-head went to say something more, but she was distracted by a voice that floated up through the silence from the stairway on the other side of the room.
"And then," the bodiless voice said. "He reached out to touch me – as if running into me wasn't bad enough! I think I need a shower, filthy little…"
The voice trailed off as its owner reached the base of the stairs, and Draco's insides rinsed cold all over again. Hermione had deposited her books somewhere, and was now complaining cross-armed to another red-head, this one a tall boy with a long nose. She really did hate him then, Draco thought miserably.
Hermione realised instantly that everyone was quiet in the common room, and it didn't take her long to see why. "YOU!" she bellowed incredulously, marching away from the red haired boy – who's whole face had dropped in shock – and stopping in the middle of the room. "How did you get in here?" she demand, shaking a finger at him. "What do you want?"
"Hermione," Draco tried, his voice sounding pitiful in his own ears. "It's me," he stammered. "Please, don't do this, not here."
"Do what?" asked the red haired boy, stomping over to Hermione. "You heard her Malfoy, what do you want?"
"Sarah?"
Hermione and the boy turned to look behind them, and Draco couldn't help but groan as he saw who had spoken. Potter stood at the base of the stairs where Hermione had just come from, his eyes fixated on his little sister.
Sarah still had a hold of Draco's sleeve, but the sight of Harry seemed to bolster her. "Everyone's being a massive idiot," she announced scathingly, throwing her shoulders back and standing even closer to Draco.
Hermione turned back around and eyed her suspiciously. "Who are you anyway?" Draco felt all the fight blow out of Sarah with one simple question.
"What?" she said, looking from Hermione to Harry. "W-what do you mean?"
Harry had reached Hermione and the other boy, and pushed gently past them as the entire Gryffindor common room watched on. "Sarah?" he repeated again. Then… "Draco?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. When had he even used his first name? he thought uneasily. Was this all part of his and Hermione's game?
"How…" Potter continued, looking between the two of them in confusion. "Is it…is it really you?"
"Well who else would it be?" asked the youngest Potter crossly.
Harry covered his mouth and seemed to stifle a laugh. Then it became a chuckle, a full on delighted hoot. His shoulders shook, before a he took a long, deep breath to steady himself and flung his arms around Sarah.
"I never thought I'd see you again," he cried as he lifted her off the ground. "How can…how did…"
"Harry," said Hermione, frowning and putting her hands on her hips. "Just what-"
But she froze mid-sentence. Because just then Harry Potter let go of his little sister, threw his arms around Draco Malfoy, and embraced him like a long lost brother.
The common room went berserk with people shouting and gasping in shock. Harry was pretty sure Ginny Weasley cried out something profane, but he barely heard any of it. He let Draco go and held his shoulders, studying his astonished looking face. Sarah gawped as she groped to hold onto the blond boy's sleeve again.
"Have you lost your senses?" said Draco, unmoving. His grey eyes were wide with what almost seemed like fear. People, including Ron and Hermione, were still yelling and pushing forward, but Harry just let himself be jostled, and smiled at Draco. He knew it was him, without a shadow of a doubt – he would have known even if Sarah hadn't been standing right beside him to prove it. It was those grey eyes that did it.
"You've crossed over," he said, feeling dizzy. "Haven't you. Through the History classroom." He saw Sarah's face from the corner of his eye go very still, but Draco still stared. Ron was hollering in his ear.
"What are you talking about Potter?" Draco whispered, chest rising and falling. Harry felt a stab of sympathy for them both, remembering his own terror when he'd fallen through the dimensional door last November. He'd never felt more alone.
Right now though he felt he'd never been happier to see someone in his entire life. It hadn't been a dream, he knew it hadn't, they were standing there before him and somewhere in a universe far, far away the parents he'd met really were alive, more alive than he ever could have imagined.
"It's okay," Harry whispered back as Hermione pulled at his clothes and the Gryffindors bellowed themselves hoarse. "Look at your arm." His eyes flicked down to Draco's right wrist, and very slowly the other boy pulled up his sleeve.
When Harry had been sat on that unfamiliar bed, trying to listen through that terrible headache to what his mother, his actual mother, had been trying to tell him, not one word had sunk in until he had crossed to the other side of the room and seen for himself the missing lightning bolt reflected in the mirror in the wardrobe.
So when Draco looked down and saw there was no lattice of silvery scars, no dark mark blemishing his skin, Harry didn't blame his knees for buckling. He still had a hold of his shoulders so was able to help him keep standing as he took short, sharp breaths and stared at his arm. "We need to get out of here," Harry said to Ron and Hermione, throwing his arm around Draco's shoulders and starting to move them all through the throng. Sarah kept a tight hold of Draco's hand, face white as a sheet. The shouting died down and people just gaped instead as Harry Potter lead a shaking Draco Malfoy through the Gryffindor common room up towards the dormitories.
He pushed open the door to the Sixth Year boy's room, and was unsurprised to find Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas still sitting on their beds where he'd left them five minutes ago. Seamus and Dean however were very surprised.
"What the-" cried Seamus, leaping to his feet in horror at the sight of Draco Malfoy. But Sarah Potter cut him off. Since Harry had mentioned the history classroom, he swore she hadn't even blinked, and only moved because Draco's hand was connected to her own. But as she entered the room and her eyes fell on Seamus, and she dropped Draco's hand instantly.
"No," she breathed. "No, no, no, no!" Tears burst into life, cascading in black lines down her face as she covered her mouth with her hands and stumbled backwards until she hit the dormitory wall. "Y-you," she stammered, wet blue eyes wide as saucers. "You're not, you're…I saw you…"
Seamus froze, as did Dean by his shoulder. The Irish boy looked to Harry. "What's going on?" he asked slowly.
Harry considered Draco, who he was still trying to support despite the fact the blond boy was much taller than him, his sobbing little sister, and Ron and Hermione, both thoroughly confused behind him. "It's…a bit complicated," he admitted. "Could you give us the room for a while?"
Seamus scowled at Draco, but his attention was mostly caught by Sarah, who was now hugging herself, still trying to stop crying but unable to tear her eyes away from Seamus. "Yeah," he said eventually. "Sure thing mate." Dean nodded at him, and together the two boys edged towards the door.
When it was closed behind them, Hermione spun on Harry. "Harry Potter!" she shrieked, jabbing her finger at him. "What the blazes is going on! And what is he doing here!"
Draco detangled himself from under Harry's arm and leant against the bed post, gulping down air. "The thunder storm," he breathed, staring at Harry's bedspread. "The window."
Harry moved over to Sarah, who was still sobbing uncontrollably from the shock of seeing Seamus Finnigan. "He died," she whimpered and Harry took her in his arms. "There was…the blood…I saw, I saw…"
"It's alright," he told her. "I know you did, but it's okay, it's different here."
"Harry-" Hermione began demanding again, but he cut her off.
"Hermione, Ron," he addressed them, the calmness of his voice surprising even himself. "I'd like you to meet my sister, Sarah Potter." They stared.
"You what?" said Ron, hands slack by his side. Hermione's mouth dropped open and her eyebrows knitted into such a frown Harry thought it must have hurt her head.
"My sister," he repeated. "From the world I went to last November. She's who I went to Germany to save."
Ron looked blankly between the two Potters as Sarah managed to calm her crying down to a series of shuddering, wet gasps of air. "But…you don't have a sister."
Harry looked down at her and rubbed her arm. She managed a weak smile and wiped her sleeve across her eyes, smearing black eyeliner all over her face. She had several studs in her ears, nose and eyebrow, her eyes were drenched in black make-up and her hair was all chopped up into different lengths, but there was no mistaking her. "She's crossed over," he said, wiping away the eyeliner with his thumb. "Haven't you?"
Sarah sniffed and looked over at the bed where Seamus had been sitting. "There was a storm out of nowhere," she said. "Just like Sirius said. I think we might have been in same classroom as well."
"We can't," said Draco suddenly, lurching from the bed and standing to face Harry. "We can't have, we didn't do anything. Sirius said that you – he – there was a lot of magic being thrown around, you – he was furious, that's what triggered it, we didn't do any of that."
"But you did wake up in the Slytherin common room," Sarah protested. "With different clothes, and you said Blaise was different too?"
Draco looked miserable, and Harry almost wanted to give him a hug too. "Blaise had long hair, didn't she?" he said instead. Draco couldn't seem to find any words; his eyes began darting about the room as he stepped this way and that – he looked at his clothes, and then pulled up the sleeve again and just stared at where the Dark Mark should have been.
Harry decided some more proof was needed, so he let go of Sarah and knelt beside his bed. He could feel everyone watching him as he rummaged around in his trunk, and eventually pulled out his old family photo album that Hagrid had given him years ago. He walked back over to the group and let it fall open at the back page. It was blank. Holding his wand up, he aimed a spell at it, and held it up so everyone could see the photo that appeared there.
"That's from our wall!" cried Sarah as Ron and Hermione gawped. He'd never shown it to them. The Potter family portrait waved and smiled as always. Photo Harry pinched photo Sarah, who gave him a dig in his ribs for his trouble. "We wondered where that went!"
"You never showed us that," said Ron, a little hurt. Harry shrugged; he'd not looked at it himself in months.
"It didn't feel right," he said apologetically. "But you're right Sarah, this is the photo I stole from your wall. I don't' know how it managed to cross over with me, but it did, just like you have now."
Draco folded his arms. "So…we're in another reality. Your reality."
"It's okay," said Sarah, with a confidence that surprised Harry. She wiped the last of the make-up smears from her face (though her eyes were still entirely black noted Harry, impressed) and walked over to hug Draco. Silently, he accepted her embrace, resting his head on top of hers and staring at the floor.
"I don't believe it," he whispered after a moment or two. "It just can't…"
"That's what I thought last year," said Harry, casting a glance at the dumbstruck Hermione and Ron watching on and dropping the album back on his bed. "But there's only so much you can argue with a dead person standing right in front of you."
Sarah's face threatened to crumble again. "Seamus," she whispered, clinging tighter onto Draco.
"But how?" said the blond boy again. "Didn't you tell Sirius you practically ripped open the doorway? You were screaming and shouting and levitated a table through the window?" He took a deep breath, gathering his wits together. "There was a big storm, I'll give you that-"
"It came out of nowhere," agreed Sarah, lifting her head up.
"But we were literally just sitting there," finished Draco.
"And now we're here," said Sarah, looking towards Harry.
"And now you're here," he told her back. He sighed and crossed his arms. "I don't know," he said honestly. "But I'm not going to lie – it's good to see you."
Draco seemed to have digested what they were telling him, and upon coming to some sort of acceptance he let go of Sarah, marched over and shoved Harry square on the chest. "Good to see us!" he cried, incredulous, but without any real malice. Ron made a noise and jumped in front of Harry, but Draco carried on all the same. "Good to see us? You left us with him! That bloody…wanker who has the audacity to run around looking like you!"
"Draco," said Sarah, almost warningly, but Draco persisted.
"I'm glad to see you so I can yell at you for having such a rotten doppelganger! Why the Hell did you have to go back?" He was half laughing now as he jammed his hands on his hips and looked at Harry sheepishly. "I'd bloody punch you but I think you're mate there might kill me."
Ron snapped to attention at being referred to, and bristled his shoulders indignantly. "Yeah, I am his mate," he told him. "And I still have no idea what you're doing in our dorm, Malfoy."
The laughter dropped from Draco's face, but Harry was quick to jump in. "Don't you see though, it isn't Malfoy." He swept his hand up and down. "He's Draco, he's nothing like the boy you know."
Ron crossed his arms and clenched his jaw. "He certainly looks the same."
"No he doesn't," said Hermione, speaking for the first time since Harry had introduced his sister. She bit her lip and stared at Draco thoughtfully. "Everything about him is different."
A ghost of a smile lit up Draco's face. "Ooh!" cried Sarah happily at Hermione, letting go of Draco in excitement. "And guess what, in our world, he's also your-"
"Housemate," said Draco a little too loudly. He shot a look at Sarah then tried a bigger smile. "The school reopened a few weeks ago and I got resorted into Gryffindor."
Ron folded his arms. "Well that would have to be an alternative reality, wouldn't it?"
"Ron," said Harry good naturedly. "Shut up."
"Ron Weasley?" Sarah clarified. Harry nodded, and Sarah edged a little bit away from the red head. Harry wondered if she'd ever known him in her own world, or if he'd died too long ago for that.
Harry turned his attention back to Draco and Sarah, his head still reeling. It had been an ordinary Sunday afternoon ten minutes ago, and now everything was different. "Well, as thrilled as I am to see you," he said, "from what you've said I honestly don't have a clue how you got here."
"Um," said Hermione. Everyone turned to look at her. "I did read something over the summer that might explain it."
Harry felt a tingle of uneasiness flutter through him. "I didn't know you did any more research?"
Hermione looked awkward. "Well, you wouldn't really talk about it, and I was curious."
Harry felt a small flurry of guilt follow on from the uneasiness. She had the truth of it there, but he still didn't really want to talk about it.
When Harry had returned last November, after he had gone to the Ministry and then finally admitted to everyone at school he'd returned, he found talking about his experiences in the alternate reality too painful. He hadn't been able to look at Seamus for the best part of a week, and hearing Malfoy's taunts became twice as painful as ever before.
After a few days, Dumbledore had summoned Harry, along with Ron and Hermione for the part they'd played in his return, to his office to explain in detail what had happened since he'd broken the window in the old History of Magic classroom. He'd gone over every detail as best he could; from meeting his alternate family, to exposing Wormtail, getting Draco's help and travelling to Germany, right up until the enchanted letter that had brought him home and his exploits with Cornelius Fudge. After that, no matter how much Hermione and Ron pressed, he avoided any attempts to bring it up again.
He knew his friends were only concerned for his well being, but there was also a fascination with the other world that Harry couldn't stomach. Ron hadn't been too keen once he found out he and his entire family's counterparts were dead, but Hermione had a million questions that Harry didn't have the strength to answer. They all lead back to the parents he would never see again, the sister that never lived.
But
here she was, larger than life, accompanied by Draco Malfoy's far superior alter ego. Harry smiled. They would have to go away again, soon – he knew that. But for now, he just wanted to revel in the glimpse they were giving him back into the life he'd lost.
"What did you find out?" he asked Hermione, who seemed relieved he wasn't upset with her.
"Well," she began, spreading out her hands as she often did when explaining something. "There's not a lot out there, but I did find something that said once a pathway had been established, it weakens the barriers between realities, making it much easier to travel back and forth at that location."
"So we just fell though?" asked Draco. Hermione shook her head.
"I'm sure there would have to be something that triggered it, it just wouldn't have taken half as much effort as before."
Sarah shrugged. "I guess I was feeling a little low," she admitted. "The point is we're here now." She crossed her arms and looked from Draco to Hermione and Harry. "So Draco ended up in the Slytherin common room because that's where the other Draco was before?"
Harry considered it. "I guess so, it seems likely. I woke up where your Harry had been."
Sarah bit her lip. "But I stayed in the History room because I don't have a counterpart? Because I was never born here?"
Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably. "No. I mean yes."
Sarah nodded. "Well, considering I shouldn't exist," she said, then jabbed her finger at Ron. "And red-head here and Seamus should be dead, let's all skip the part where I want to freak out, run around and scream and cry, and see about getting us home. Plan?"
Draco almost tripped down the stairs that took them back down to the Gryffindor common room. True, he was in the wrong plane of existence, and this posed several immediate problems. But he had Harry back, the real one. And Hermione didn't hate him. His Hermione anyway.
He looked at her counterpart as they traveled downwards and noticed several subtle differences that would have been obvious if he'd looked before. She looked far more like the girl he'd meet at Godric's Hollow, the one with the bushy hair and purple Muggle school uniform. She wasn't wearing any make-up and her shoes barely had a heal on them at all; she looked more like herself, but there was an air of confidence about her that even his own Hermione hadn't reached yet.
"What?" she snapped as they entered the common room. It was evident a lot of people had drifted away since the excitement they caused before, but there was a good many people still lingering, doing homework or playing games, and they all looked up as the gaggle made their way through.
"Erm, nothing," mumbled Draco, catching sight of Parvati Patil sitting whispering to Lavender Brown. She looked very different to the girl he usually avoided, most notably a lot less skinny. The two girls beckoned for Hermione to come over, but she hastily waved them away and hurried on to the common room exit. Draco looked back at Lavender as the girls stared open mouthed at him, and he rushed to catch up with Hermione.
"Isn't Lavender you best friend?" he asked as they clambered back out into the corridor. He wished he hadn't asked it almost right away. The boy called Ron looked almost hostile, and Hermione just raised an eyebrow.
"Uh," she said. "Not really."
Draco tired not to let the embarrassment creep too visibly up his neck. "Oh, I…sorry," he fumbled. "I guess, she just is in our world."
"What do you care anyway?" asked Ron hotly, slipping his arm through Hermione's to walk her away. Draco felt an unbidden wave of jealousy run through him that he tried to chase away. This boy was dead in his world, his whole family in fact – he remembered his father crowing over it. His Hermione would never meet him so let this one be protective over her, what did it matter to him?
He decided not to answer that.
"So will Dumbledore know what to do?" asked Sarah, shoving her hands into the deep pockets of her velvety black skirt.
"He did last time," answered Hermione, who Draco was relieved to see had detangled herself from Ron Weasley. "But it's different pulling someone back to where they should be, like we did with Harry. All he had to do was grab onto the preverbal rope and yank for us to bring him home. This way round will be more like trying to launch the rope through a small hole whilst standing on the other side of a Quidditch pitch."
Sarah and Draco looked at one another. "Oh," he said. "Marvelous."
"Maybe someone will pull us back from our side?" said Sarah hopefully.
Draco made a scornful noise. "You maybe," he said, only half joking. "I'm sure your brother would happily loose me forever in some alternate reality. I'm sure it would all be highly convenient for him."
Sarah frowned at him but didn't say anything to contradict him.
"So…" said the real Harry thoughtfully as they passed through the same secret corridor behind the two feast paintings. This one was the aftermath, and a knight belched loudly at them as a fair maid waltzed drunkenly around by herself singing a song of dragons. "You don't get on with the other Harry?"
Hermione looked around interested, but Ron crossed his arms in what Draco felt was protest at Harry acknowledging his existence. Draco didn't really mind, he was sure the other Draco was just as obnoxious as he'd once been, the Weasley boy probably had every right to hate him. Draco didn't trust himself to answer Harry's question, he was still too bitter about the whole affair, so he looked to Sarah instead.
"Well," she said, picking her words carefully. "Harry's had a really tough time…adjusting. Seamus' death hit him really hard."
Draco saw Harry visibly flinch. He knew no matter what the other Harry said, this Harry felt terribly guilty about his friend's death at the Death Eater's battle in Germany. "He should blame me," he said quietly. "Not you. I should never have let Seamus go."
"Oh he blames you alright," said Draco ruefully, unable to stop himself. "You, me, Hermione. He's not too hot with your parents for not noticing he wasn't himself either – I'd say on the whole he's a very angry young man who chooses to deal with the situation by yelling at everyone and snogging Parvati bloody Patil."
"Parvati bloody Patil," echoed Sarah, folding her arms and scowling.
Draco realized everyone had stopped walking and was now staring at him with raised eyebrows.
"Harry hates me?" said Hermione, hurt.
"I'm mad at my parents?" said Harry with equal disbelief.
"You're snogging Parvati?" demanded Ron.
"Well," said Sarah, pragmatically. "Think about it. Someone highjack's your body for a couple of days, no one notices and when you come back one of your best friends has been murdered and everybody thinks you defeated the most evil wizard of all time. Wouldn't you go a bit mental?"
"Why not tell them it was our Harry?" asked Ron indignantly. Clearly he didn't like the idea of the other Harry taking credit for what this Harry did either.
"And have everybody trying to jump to alternate dimensions?" replied Sarah, repeating the words Draco had heard Sirius use countless times. "It would be carnage."
"But how could he hate his parents?" asked Harry. He looked so deflated, thought Draco, so sad. "Doesn't he know how lucky he is to have them?"
Draco shifted his weight. He was about to open his mouth to reiterate that the Harry of their world was a selfish, hot-headed antagonist who was content to wallow in his self pity, when a sudden thought struck him. Where were this Draco's parents? Could it be, like Harry when he crossed over, that his mother was alive in this world? The notion rendered him dumb. He slowly closed his mouth and rubbed where his Dark Mark should have been, staring listlessly at the wall. Was his mother alive?
Sarah shrugged at Harry's question. "He doesn't see it like that," Draco vaguely heard her answer. "He just sees what he's lost, and Parvati eggs him on."
"Parvati Patil?" repeated Ron, still incredulous. "Did you have, like, no other girlfriend options?"
"Shut up Ron," muttered Hermione. She had folded her arms and was staring intently out the window. Harry spotted what she was doing at snapped from his reverie instantly.
"Did you see something?"
Hermione frowned, narrowing her eyes. "I'm not sure." Draco turned and looked out the window too; the little village of Hogsmeade was sitting perfectly in the middle of the frame, and looked like it always did as far as Draco could tell.
"What are you looking for?" he asked.
"Distress sparks," she told him. "Everywhere's on high alert, I thought I saw…probably just something reflecting in the sunlight, it is unusually bright out there." She turned back to face the group and smiled. "Sorry, what were we saying?"
Draco rubbed his head. It still throbbed horribly, but he felt maybe it was easing.
"We were talking about how I'm a bit of an idiot in the other world," supplied Harry, which made Draco wince.
"Yeah," he conceded, "but it seems like I'm bit of a wanker here in your world, so maybe it's just the way it goes." Thinking of his doppelganger made him think of his mother again. Does he know how lucky he is, like Harry said? Is she even alive? He was too scared to ask, for fear of the answer he might get. Right now the possibility hung there, like a dream half remembered. Right now the fact it could still be real almost made it real. It was more than he'd ever dared hope.
"So…why are they on high alert?" asked Sarah, peering out at the little wizarding village below them. "And who's 'they' for that matter – do you mean the teachers?"
Harry finally turned his attention from the window and looked at his sister. Draco liked the warmth with which he did it; he'd grown tired of the Harry of his world continuously making everybody around him feel like they were victimizing him by just waking up in the morning. The bright sunlight caught on the many earrings in Sarah's right ear and cast a pattern on the wall.
"Yeah," replied Harry. "The teachers keep an eye out, and the prefects, but there are actually aurors from the Ministry here, and in Hogsmeade. If there's any sign of trouble, they send up sparks, and whoever sees comes to help."
"Define trouble," said Draco, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.
"Well…" said Ron. "Harry finally convinced Fudge that You-Know-Who came back to full strength last summer."
"It was more the attacks on Muggle schools, bridges and hospitals that convinced him," said Harry darkly. "But yeah, they eventually started listening."
"There's people from the Ministry all over the country now," added Hermione.
The uneasiness Draco had been feeling turned to a fully-fledged pit of snakes writhing around in his guts, and he had to turn away from them as the feeling got too much. An orphanage, that's what his mother had been trying to defend, a bloody orphanage. And here Voldemort was again, a different reality, but still attacking defenseless Muggle kids.
"Draco," said Sarah, touching his arm. "Draco are you alright."
He turned back around. "Fine," he said gruffly, clearing his throat. "So, you thought you saw the sparks go up."
Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure, there have been a few false alarms since coming back this term, it was probably-"
"Not a false alarm!" cried Harry, flinging himself at the window sill. Draco spun around as the others followed. The air above Hogsmeade was littered with exploding lights. "Really not a false alarm!"
"What do we do?" cried Sarah, panic rising in her gullet. Death Eaters. Here. How was it possible? Her stomach twisted, vaulting her back to that miserable dungeon in Germany, the ropes raw on her wrists and the smell of their rotten breath. This may be another reality, but these were still the same people who had kidnapped her. Who had hurt her.
"We have to help them," said Harry, moving away from the window.
"Wait, shouldn't we warn somebody," asked Hermione, not moving to follow. "Dumbledore should know, he'll want to help, and McGonagall."
Harry blinked at her. "You honestly think everyone in the entire castle didn't just see that?" His tone was confused more than petulant. Colour rose into Hermione's cheeks.
"Oh, er, I guess," she said.
"Harry!" cried an Irish voice as a couple of sets of feet ran down the corridor towards them. Sarah felt herself blanche as Seamus Finnigan came into view, with Dean Thomas by his side. I saw you die, she thought as her fingers went numb. I saw you die, there was so much blood.
"Did you see! The fireworks!" called Seamus as they ran past. "We're going to tell McGonagall!"
Sarah and the others watched them retreat around the corner. Hermione raised her eyebrow at Harry, as if to challenge him on how silly he thought her idea was now. "Okay," he conceded. "So if the teachers managed to miss the light display, Seamus and Dean will now go and tell them."
Hermione 'harrumphed' and strode off. "So…you want to go help?" asked Ron, unsure. Draco was still staring out the window looking frighteningly pale. His lips and hair were almost translucent in the strong autumn sunlight.
"Nobody else knows about the passageway as far as we know," said Harry, marching off, forcing the other three to follow as they caught up with Hermione. "We can sneak in. I don't mind going by myself."
Ron Weasley rubbed his head as they hurried along the corridor. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. We were just dealing with alternate realities. Are we seriously now dealing with Death Eaters?"
Harry gave him a helpless look. "I guess," he said, holding his hands out imploringly. "I'm sorry they didn't check your schedule before they started attacking innocent people."
Ron frowned. "All I meant was that it's a bit unlikely, what are the chances? And of course we're coming with you, don't ask stupid questions."
Sarah thought maybe she should be more surprised that Harry was running head-long into danger when any normal person would be running the other way, but this was the Harry who had travelled all the way to the Black Forest for her, battled the Death Eaters and even Lord Voldemort to save her. What were a few fireworks?
"We should go get the invisibility cloak," suggested Hermione. Invisibility cloak? Sarah frowned. Did she mean her dad's invisibility cloak? A pang of irrational jealousy flashed through her; she'd always coveted that particular item from her dad's secret stash of 'up-to-no-good-stuff' as her mum always called it.
"No time," said Harry coming to a halt in front of a statue of a one-eyed-witch and resting his hand on her head.
"If Death Eaters are attacking the village," said Draco slowly. "They could come up to the school?" Harry considered him a moment, as did Sarah. Was he thinking about what had happened at their own school before, when he'd helped Voldemort in and kill all those people? He was bound to be, she reasoned, and Harry seemed to think the same.
"Then if they do," said Harry, transferring his hand from the statue to Draco's shoulder. "We'll stop them."
"Yeah," said Ron.
"Yeah!" cried Sarah, a fire lighting in her belly. Draco and Harry's heads snapped in her direction simultaneously.
"You're not coming," said Draco, horror struck.
"No way," added Harry. Sarah stared at them in disbelief.
"As if I'm letting you out of my sight until I get back home!" she cried, outraged by the suggestion. "Anything could happen!"
Harry ground his teeth and looked at the three older students standing by him. Ron glanced warily at her then shifted his feet. "She's got a point mate," he said. "What else are we gonna do with her?" Sarah resented the implication she needed a baby-sitter, but her determination not to be left behind kept her mouth shut.
"Fine," said Harry, throwing up his hands. "But you've got to promise to do exactly what I say, understood?"
"Understood," said Sarah enthusiastically.
Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco, then tapped the statue and said "Dissendium." The one-eyed-witch obediently sprung to life, and let the five students hurry down into the secret tunnel behind. The passageway was just tall enough for Ron and Draco, and wide enough to allow two to walk side by side, but at the rate they were running they naturally fell into single file. Torches lit their way, but the intervals were wide and often they found themselves in dark shadows.
Sarah's heart seemed like it might actually shatter her rib cage. She gasped down lungfulls of cold, dank air to try and subdue the dizziness, but adrenaline was thumping through her system, kicking it into panic mode.
This was too much, one side of her brain was screaming. An hour ago she was sitting on the windowsill of a deserted classroom, musing over all her 'problems'. The current problems would send her old ones running for the hills she had no doubt. How had her and Draco ended up in an alternate reality, and how the Hell were they going to get home? And how could it be possible that the moment they showed up there were Death Eaters ransacking the village below?
Her wrists burned. She ignored them, she knew it was phantom pain, her brain just reacting to the fear fluttering through her chest, but even so it felt like the rope was chaffing her skin bloody again. They can't hurt me, she told herself, clutching her fist around her wand. Harry and Draco are here, and Hermione's the cleverest witch in the school. They won't let them hurt you.
But it wasn't enough. She wanted to be able to defend herself, she didn't want to be at anybody's mercy. She hardly knew any spells and despite growing over the summer and putting on a bit of weight, she was still pretty small.
She slipped on a mossy patch on the dark tunnel floor, and found her anger spiking. So what! she told herself as she pushed ahead, sucking air into her lungs and hunting for any more slippery patches in the dim torch light. She knew a few defensive spells from Remus, and a few not-exactly-legal ones that Sirius had taught her. She would give them Hell if they tried to touch her again – she'd bite their bloody ankles if she had to. She wasn't going to be anybody's prisoner, not again.
Thinking of her Godfathers brought her renewed energy as the five students tore down the secret passageway. No one was talking, so she had plenty of space for her own thoughts.
This must have been one of the hidden tunnels the Marauders used during their time at Hogwarts. Sirius liked to boast they knew every inch of the castle, and her dad had showed her their special map once before, and told her how they used to prowl around at night in their animal forms. Sarah had decided long ago she wanted to become an Animagus like her dad, and in her youth she'd dreamed of transforming into a kitten, a hedgehog, or a beautiful bird to go explore the world around her unnoticed. But that had been before.
Now she saw herself as a fierce beast with claws and sharp teeth. Maybe she could be a wolf, a big white one with blood red eyes. No one would take her prisoner then.
Wolf Sarah sped up her pace, ignoring the pain in her chest and the wobbliness of her legs. She caught up to Harry and Draco, imagining her paws beating on the floor, her fur bristling, her fangs gleaming in the flickering firelight. "Where in Hogsmeade does this lead?" she called down to Harry at the front.
It took Harry a moment to answer, and she almost wondered if he'd even heard her. "Honeydukes," he said after a while. "About five minutes away."
Draco craned his neck to grab a look at Sarah. "You okay kiddo?" he asked.
"Fine," she barked. And I'm not a kid, she wanted to add. I'm a wolf. But Draco was only looking out for her, so she left it unsaid.
She had never been to Hogsmeade's famous sweet shop, and even though there were far more pressing matters at hand, she was still excited to see it. True to his word, after about five minutes Harry slowed down as they came to a big trapdoor set above their heads. They had to wait a while before Hermione and Ron caught up; Ron looked okay but Hermione was dripping with sweat and looked as if she was about to throw up. "Can't...run...like you!" she scolded as she bent double, gagging as she gulped down lungfuls of air.
Harry's face was drawn taut with resolution. "You still have a chance to go back," he said as he pulled his wand free from his jeans. "I can do this by myself."
Sarah wasn't sure who looked more offended as the other three all retorted at once.
"Don't be an idiot," cried Draco.
"Not a chance," said Hermione between gasps.
"When have we ever let you go alone?" demanded Ron, who then paused for thought. "Y'know, excluding massive cave-ins or being knocked out by a giant chess piece?"
Harry nodded at them. "Okay, but stay close alright?" His eyes flicked warily to Sarah, who tried to make herself look as tall as she possibly could. If Harry was still reluctant to let her come, he decided not to share it. Instead, he reached up, and gave the trap door a little prod with his wand.
It slammed upwards into the room above as if he'd thrown his whole bodyweight up into it. The hinges were silent but the wood gave an almighty crash as it connected with the stone floor. All five of them jumped back and cringed. "Oops," said Harry meekly.
On Harry's request, Draco boosted him up first to check all was clear. Luckily no one was about and it seemed their noise had gone unnoticed. They hoisted Sarah up next as she was the smallest, and she had a feeling Harry didn't want her out of his sight as much as she didn't want him out of hers. Hermione came next, followed by Ron and finally Draco jumped and hauled himself up, which earned a tutting noise from Ron. He was a funny sort of boy, Sarah decided. He was all limbs and freckles, and seemed very protective over Harry and Hermione. She'd heard her parents mention the Weasley family a few times, but all she really knew was there had been a lot of them and they all had red hair. How funny one of them would be Harry's best friend in this world.
As Hermione gently closed the trap door again with a spell, Harry told the rest of them to crouch down by the many barrels, boxes and bags of every kind of sweet and chocolate Sarah could possible think off. Pepper Imps, Orange and Chilli chocolate and Droobles Best Blowing Gum all towered over them as Sarah tucked herself by a half empty box of Liquorice Wands. She gazed at Sugar-Spun Quills, Trophy Toffees and even the chocolate covered jelly babies her mum always had in the cupboard, all of which made her mouth water.
Harry and the others were whispering urgently about what to do when she read the label of the box she was by properly. She blinked in the dim light coming from the torch on the wall. They were red Liquorice Wands, she realised. She'd never seen such a thing; her mum and Draco loved the regular kind, but that made Sarah gag. Red liquorice though...
Before she could change her mind, her hand darted into the box and grabbed one, sliding it from its wrapped and stuffing a bite into her mouth.
As soon as it touched her tongue, it gave an almighty crack, like a whip, and the sugar began fizzing and popping between her teeth. The other four spun round, wands barred as she shoved the rest guiltily into her mouth. It felt as if a sparkler was going off behind her lips. "What are you doing?" hissed Draco. Sarah tried to push the exploding candy to one side of her jaw.
"Nothing," she muttered with a crackle.
"Well do it more quietly," replied Draco with a raised eyebrow.
Sarah chewed her noisy liquorice as quickly as she could as Harry lead them up the steps to the proper shop. The raspberry flavouring buzzed along her tongue and left her feeling giddy. But once they reached the top of the stairs, the old dread was creeping back in. They had no way of knowing what was on the other side of the door, but it was probably not going to be good. I'm a wolf, Sarah told herself, I'm a big scary wolf and they can't hurt me.
She didn't really feel like a wolf though – she felt more like a little girl licking raspberry off her lips.
Harry eased the door open and edged out into the shop. The rest of them crept in after him, wands raised and ready for attack. But none came. Sarah was so tense she barely took in the looming shelves of brightly coloured sweets and boxes of chocolates, the whirring life-like displays and the friendly voice on the tannoy letting them know that you got a free goat with every multipack of Fizzing Whizbees purchased. The shop was nothing but shelves tightly stood together, and as they snuck towards the front door Sarah was convinced Death Eaters were lurking behind at least half a dozen turns.
When they finally reached the till and the large window streaming blinding afternoon sunshine through it, Sarah finally let go of the breath she'd been holding since the cellar. The window was frosted so it was hard to see out of it more than a blur, but from what they could tell there was no one inside the shop...but plenty of movement out on the street.
"What's going on here?" murmured Hermione, looking this way and that.
Harry trod silently over to the door and took hold of the handle. "Stay here," he said to them all. "Don't make a sound."
Sarah felt her heart leap into her throat as Harry pressed the knob downwards and peered outside. She could only see a bit of the side of his face, but it was enough to tell he was frowning. Without a word he flung the door backwards and wondered out into the street.
Ron yelped, but Hermione and Draco were hot on his heels into the sunshine, and Sarah found her feet following them.
The five students were met with a throng of confused townsfolk, all standing around aimlessly, staring at the sky, talking perplexed to one another. There wasn't a Death Eater in sight.
"I don't get it?" said Sarah, feeling a little life flow back into her extremities. She'd been holding her breath again without noticing. A woman in her early thirties jumped at hearing her voice behind her, and spun round to see who'd emerged from Honeydukes. She had a mass of curly auburn hair and plenty of make-up on her face, and was clothed in voluminous skirts that did little to hide her curvy figure.
"Bless my soul!" she cried, and pulled absent-mindedly as the spangly scarf around her neck. "Harry my love, you did give me a shock. What you kids doing here?"
"Hi," said Ron, a goofy look creeping over his face. "You alright?"
Harry looked about confused. "We thought..." he said hesitantly. "It seemed like the village had been attacked?"
"Well it was," said the auburn haired woman. "It was Harry love, old Bert in his tobacco store saw it first, set off the alarm, Death Eaters in their nasty black cloaks, made a right mess they did."
Concern replaced Ron's goofiness. "Are you okay?" he asked eagerly.
The woman gave him a warm smile. "Fine, my love," she said. "They didn't seem to really do any harm? Not to the people anyway." She scowled.
"But where are they now Madame Rosmarta?" said Hermione, casting her eyes uneasily along the rooftops, wand still poised to fire. The woman, Rosmarta, chewed her lip and pulled at her scarf again.
"Dunno love," she said timidly. "Them Ministry folks from your school showed up like they're supposed to and those black cloaks vanished, just like that." She snapped her fingers, then gazed woefully over the people and the shops nearest them. Sarah could see several shop windows were smashed in, refusing to be mended with magic, and smoke was rising where a number of fires had been not long ago.
"These are peoples livelihoods," muttered Rosmarta in her West Country accent. "They ain't got no right."
Draco had gone very still. Sarah might not have noticed it if she hadn't been standing right by him, but it was as if he'd turned to stone. "What," he managed to croak through a stiff jaw, earning the others' attention. "Vanished?"
Rosmarta was nodding. "Yup, yup," she said. "Your Ministry lot came along, started arrestin' folk, but then like I said, all the black coats up an' popped into thin air. The Ministry aurors apparated back to the castle, leavin' our lot to do some questioning, only then they got called away too." The older woman shivered and pulled at her scarf once more. "Seems wrong really, there should be at least someone down her with us, what if they come back?"
Sarah had thought Draco looked pale before, when they were at the statue of the one-eyed-witch. Right now he looked damn near invisible. "I thought you couldn't apparate in the school grounds?" she said, confused.
"They're stationed just outside the grounds," supplied Hermione
"They're not coming back," said Draco hoarsely, eyes hardly focused as he swung back to take in the castle above them. "There was never an attack on the village."
Rosmarta appeared put out by that. "Course there was, I saw it with my own two eyes."
"So did everyone else," said Draco. He was visibly shaking now. "So they ran to help. All of them. Away from the school."
Harry suddenly looked as if he'd been punched in the gut by a troll. "It wasn't an attack," he agreed, his appalled face turning towards his friends. "It was a diversion. They were after the school all along."