A/N 22-08-14: Wow, I can't believe we're at the halfway point of the trilogy already! Thank you to those that sent me particularly long reviews and PMs last weeks, seems like you guys are getting into the swing of Book 2! Not long before I shake it all up again for Book 3 mwahaha.

A/N 27-08-14: Thanks again Modern Prometheus the for typo spots in chapters 3 and 4!

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Chapter Four -

Dream On

xxx

Blame it on your karmic curse

Oh shame upon the universe

It knows its lines

It's well rehearsed

It sucked you in, it dragged you down

To where there is no hallowed ground

Where holiness is never found

Paying debt to karma

You party for a living

What you take won't kill you

But careful what you're giving

Can you feel a little love

Can you feel a little love

Dream on, dream on

xxx

Depeche Mode

xxx

Draco Malfoy ran through the driving rain as fast as his shaking legs would take him. A ferocious storm crashed about his head as he turned down the dilapidated road and pelted towards the house at the very end of the drive. The last streetlamp was dead, and if he hadn't of known it was there, he might never have found it. The terraced houses loomed in the November night, barely a light was on and the shadows danced and leapt about the place as lightening pierced the sky. Chest numb and gulping down air, Draco practically fell on the peeling wooden door frame and began pounding on it with all that remained of his strength. He almost didn't stop as the door was heaved open, but once he caught sight of who was on the other side he stumbled backwards, out once more into the rain. He shielded his eyes from the glare of the lights, having been wrapped in the night time for so long.

"Draco Malfoy?" came the voice from inside, it's owner a mere silhouette against the light coming from the torches on the walls. "What, may I ask, are you doing here?"

Draco stumbled back a pace and grabbed onto the wreck of a satchel that hung about his neck. "Professor…please," he gasped, rain running into his mouth as he spoke. "I don't know what to do, please, you've got to help me."

Severus Snape stepped out from his rather poorly furnished hallway and onto the porch. He folded his arms and looked Draco up and down. "Help you how, Mr Malfoy?"

Draco looked up at him through licks of painfully blond hair plastered to his face and clutched at his ragged bag. His trousers were sodden with mud and his cloak had caught at one end, making it fray badly. "They…killed her," he stammered.

Snape's face wore the same pinched expression as always. If he already knew of his mother's death or if it was a complete surprise to him, Draco couldn't tell. "I am sorry for your loss," he said eventually. "But I cannot do anything for you now except offer my condolences. She was a good woman," he added with a hint of a smile.

"No," said Draco desperately, stepping up towards the porch again and pushing dripping hair from his eyes. "No she said, if anything were to happen to her, she said to go to you, that you'd help, that I could trust you."

The words had been etched into Draco's mind since the moment they'd left his mother's lips over a year ago. He'd been so appalled at the idea that anything could happen to her, that one day she might be taken away from him, he'd been left with a residual and powerful nausea anytime he thought about it. She had never repeated herself, nor elaborated on what she'd meant, but the words had never faded.

Which is how he found himself standing outside the front door of Severus Snape's house in the middle of the night, during a thunder storm, having been on the run for four days straight.

Since the moment he saw Voldemort murder his mother right in front of his eyes.

"I was your mother's friend," conceded Snape. "But what is done is done, it is not for us to question The Dark Lord's will."

At that Draco jumped right back up onto the porch. "No," he growled, his voice hoarse from dehydration and lack of sleep. "No, she told me, she said 'Severus is leading the way', there's a resistance isn't there? The botched missions, the missing Death Eaters, I'm not stupid!" He was shivering but for the first time in four days he didn't feel numb anymore. "They try and cover it up but there's been rumours, Blaise said her dad got her a message from Oslo, that there are cells waiting to strike. She wanted to help." He squared up to his old potions professor, rain water dripping on the old wooden floorboards. "And so do I." Snape looked him up and down, and Draco took a deep breath. "So if you know how I can do that...you will tell me."

Snape unfolded his arms, and after a moment's consideration, stepped aside and indicated Draco should come in. Relief washed through him as he didn't waste a moment walking into the house. They would pay, they had to pay, and Severus was going to help him do it.

Snape flicked his wand at Draco, drying him instantly. "I would ask you to remove your boots and cloak please," he instructed, striding off down the dim corridor as another bolt of lightning flashed outside. "I don't want mud everywhere."

Draco did as he was bid, still shivering even though he was out of the elements. Snape told him to wait in the living room, so Draco traipsed though in threadbare socks and curled up in the armchair closest to the roaring fire.

She's gone, he thought for the countless time since he'd fled The Dark Lord's lair in Germany. He felt a sob rising in his throat, but he swallowed it down, unwilling to appear weak in front of Severus. Find the anger, he told himself, staring into the flames, use it, it's a weapon.

"I meant what I said," announced Snape as he came back into the living room with a tray of mugs, teapot and sugar. "I can't help you in the way I think you want." He placed the tray down and sat on the sagging couch. "And you shouldn't be talking about revenge or any other such notions. I understand grief makes us reckless, but our Lord will not."

Draco took the mug nearest him in silence and added milk. He had been sure Severus would have a reaction like this; if he was some kind of double agent, or had anything to do with a resistance, then he would naturally have to be incredibly careful not to let himself be caught out or tricked by spies. Draco just had to work out how to make him understand that he really did want to be a part of whatever plans there were to bring down Voldemort.

And his father.

A ripple of rage ran through Draco and stopped him mid-way through blowing on his tea. He would destroy his father for what he'd done, or failed to do more specifically. He would end his life even if it meant giving up his own.

"I don't care," said Draco, staring at the flames and taking a mouthful of hot tea. It felt wonderful as it coursed down through his insides. "He took everything from me, and I will give my last breath to bring him down."

Severus considered him a moment. "Don't be so melodramatic," he told him. Draco thought he probably should have felt embarrassed or chided by that, but he felt nothing other than his own determination.

"I can understand your reservation," he told Snape. "You're worried I'm trying to get you to confess your involvement in a movement against the man you've sworn to serve with your life. But I'm not, I want to help, and that's the truth." He shrugged, the words sounding dead to his own years. He probably wasn't capable of conveying sincerity at that moment, but he'd try his best. "Or maybe you've got nothing to do with it at all, so drag me back to him and tell him all about my treason, it doesn't matter."

Severus regarded him for a while. "The truth," he repeated, picking up his own cup of tea, but pausing before taking a sip. "You're sixteen now aren't you Draco?"

"Fifteen," he replied automatically. "I'll be sixteen in December." He then wondered why Snape would ask such a thing.

"Mother's maiden name?"

"Black." What was going on? Draco couldn't seem to stop the words from tumbling from his mouth.

"First kiss?"

"Blaise says that getting cornered by Pansy Parkinson doesn't count."

"Why are you really here?"

"To make my father suffer the way he made me suffer."

Draco blinked. He'd meant to say something about doing what was right, about avenging his mother and all the countless others that had died.

"I'm sorry Draco," said Severus, reaching over and plucking his mug of half finished tea from his hands. He suddenly seemed a lot friendlier, or as much a Snape could be friendly. "I had to make sure."

He poured a fresh cup of tea in a different mug and added some milk before holding it up for Draco. "Your first drink had truth serum in it, I had to see if it had kicked in properly."

Draco stared at him a beat before accepting the mug. "You could have asked me something a lot more intrusive than that," he mumbled, taking a gulp of the potion free tea even though it was too hot and scalded the back of his throat a little.

"True," admitted Severus. "Something humiliating might have proved the potion was working. But I meant the question I asked. It's better you lay your vengeance out for me to see. We need to move past it if you're going to be of any use."

"Move past-" spluttered Draco, slamming his mug down on the coffee table. "My mother is dead."

"So will everyone else you care about be," said Severus coolly. "If we don't act swiftly and carefully. You do have other people you care about?" he asked.

Draco swallowed, and after a beat picked his tea up again. "One," he said.

He was worried about Blaise. He'd begged her to come with him, but she'd said it would create too much suspicion. No one would question Draco flying off in a grief-stricken rage, but if they went together it would stink of scheming. She'd convinced him she'd be more valuable staying behind, ready to implement any plan the resistance executed, conversing with her father, looking after her little brother and making sure her mother thought everything was ticking along just fine. She gave her word she would rally any recruits, and do anything the resistance asked her to to help. But Draco didn't want her in danger, he wanted her safe, he wanted her to hide under his bed.

But of course she wouldn't listen.

"So you do have something to do with the resistance?" asked Draco, moving forward. The feeling was coming back into his tingling fingers through the piping hot china.

Severus placed his cup back down. "I'm a lieutenant in the movement known as Freiheit, it's German for liberty." He raised an eyebrow. "Some people wouldn't know subtlety if it came up and hit them with a stick apparently."

A lieutenant, thought Draco, slumping back in his chair. Freiheit. This was even more well organized than he'd hoped. As if hearing his thoughts, Severus continued.

"We have units in countries across the world – as you suggested your friend Blaise's father has been running the Norwegian branch for years. People have been frightened, dissatisfied and very, very angry for some time now." He leant forward and picked up his tea again. "These are turbulent times Draco, are you sure you want to get involved?"

Draco sat back up in seat, eyes fixed directly on Snape's. "Yes," he said. Snape seemed to give a half smile, but Draco wasn't sure what was funny.

"You always did have enthusiasm," he said. He licked his lips, finished the last of his tea and placed the mug at the foot of his chair. "People remember though I'm afraid Draco."

His insides ran cold, despite the tea he'd just drunk. "I didn't know what would happen," he said, his voice rasping again. He saw Neville Longbottom crumpling at his feet again. Severus nodded.

"I believe you," he told him, which made Draco feel a little better but didn't wash away the terrible guilt he'd just brought back up. "I also think this would be an ideal opportunity for you to prove which side you're on and change people's minds."

Draco watched him, judging whether he was being sincere or kind. "How?" was all he said.

"Something's happening, I doubt you would have realised from your last few days in Germany, everything was being done to keep it under wraps. But it seems You-Know-Who is interested once more in Harry Potter."

Draco felt his jaw clench. He'd never understood what was so special about such an idiot, but since he'd been old enough to learn the other boy's name, he knew The Dark Lord had been trying to kill him. "Why?" he snapped.

Snape laced his fingers together in his lap, leant back a little and stared at them. "A lot of people have died to get us this information." Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "You-Know-Who wants to kill the Potter boy...to prevent him killing him first."

Draco stared. "But – Potter's just a boy, he's even younger than me?" spluttered Draco, incredulous. He was almost offended at the idea that Potter would be powerful enough to take on Voldemort.

"He's also the Heir of Gryffindor." Snape spoke so quietly Draco had to take a moment to process the words.

"What?" he breathed.

Snape looked up from his hands. "If the prophecy is to be believed, he is the Heir of Gryffindor, and You-Know-Who is the Heir of Slytherin. History is destined to repeat itself, and one must kill the other."

"But," said Draco, searching for words as he held his hands helplessly out. "He's a moron! He, he spends all his time bullying other students and hanging around with sycophants!"

"I am extraordinarily unsurprised," sneered Severus, curling his lip. "His father was exactly the same. Be that as it may, he is the heir and therefore possess the power to defeat The Dark Lord. And there's more."

"More?" said Draco, raising his eyebrows. What now, Moaning Myrtle was actually the heir of Ravenclaw?

"More prophecies," said Snape, shaking his head. "You-Know-Who's obsessed, he has the best seers in the world working for him, whether they want to or not. Apparently there's something to suggest that right now, there's something even more important about Potter, even more urgent."

"Like what?" asked Draco, mind whirling. He'd convinced himself over the years that all the fuss over Potter had been little more than hysteria, and here he was, the Heir of Gryffindor, the only one able to take down the most evil wizard that ever lived.

Snape was shaking his head again. "Something or other about 'displacing himself' and 'the king of all'...whatever it is, You-Know-Who wants him in his custody and he wants him now."

Draco folded his arms. He knew the Death Eaters hadn't been actively trying to capture Harry Potter for years, if they upped their game chances were the Potters would have grown complacent and they'd have him in no time.

"So Freiheit wants to get to him first, to stop them from killing him."

Snape was nodding. "Or kidnapping him, it seems they want him alive. So do we, but not just to protect him. We want to recruit him."

Draco scoffed. He couldn't help it. "That'll go right to his head – the ex-Death Eaters crawling to the amazing, precious Harry Potter for help."

Snape smiled. "And thanks to your exceptional timing, I'd like you to be the one doing the crawling."

Any trace of humour vanished from Draco in an instant. "What?" he demanded.

"The fact that you have very publically run away from the Death Eaters can be used to our advantage. In a few days time, you will contact your father." He held up his hand as Draco immediately began to voice his objections. "You will contact your father and apologise for your irrational behaviour. You will then inform him that to make amends, you believe you can make contact with Harry Potter, befriend him, and when the time is right convince him to walk right into the Death Eater's lair."

Draco stared open mouthed at him. "But...Potter hates me, I hate him...my father would never believe it."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Do you really think your father pays enough attention to you to know who are and are not your friends?"

The question stung, but Draco had admit he was right. "Okay," he said. "But Potter does still hate me – how will I be able to convince him to join us?"

Snape shrugged. "How should I know. The point is, if the Death Eaters think you're working for them, they'll let you get close to him. In the meantime, we can debrief and train him, so when the time is right, you can tell your father you're bringing him to Germany under the pretence of fighting You-Know-Who. They'll think a lamb's being led to slaughter, meanwhile Freiheit will be rallying it's cells, priming them to strike when Potter meets the Dark Lord."

Draco considered everything Snape had just said. "So I'd be a double agent?" he asked after a while. He felt sick at the prospect. He didn't know how to act, he'd only ever lied for self-benefit before. He didn't know if he could play both parts. But then, if he could do it, Severus was right, it would go a long way to undoing what he'd done at the school two years ago.

"Yes," said Snape. "You really couldn't have picked a better time to knock on my front door. Your cover will be perfect."

It's just a shame Potter will, never, ever in a million years listen to what I have to say, Draco thought. But what he said was:

"I'll do it."

xxx

"Harry!" screamed Sarah, as the fireplace erupted in green flames. She leapt out from behind Sirius' kitchen table towards him, but a big burly Death Eater grabbed her by the waist and lifted her bodily from the floor. She flailed madly to try and get his hands off her, but as she squirmed the green flames became orange once more, and died down enough to see Harry was nowhere in sight.

Sarah went limp. "Harry?" she said, her voice little more than a squeak.

"Ceasefire!" screeched Bellatrix, pushing one of her own men out the way to scramble to the fire. She grabbed a handful of Hermione's hair on the way, yanking her protesting from the floor, and aiming her wand at her head as she gawped at the empty fireplace. "Ceasefire! Ceasefire!"

Remus was huddled in the corner of the room, his head bleeding, cradling an unconscious Tonks as three Death Eaters pressed in on them. Draco stood in the middle of the room, turning this way and that, not sure which robed figure to point his wand at, but having enough sense to know there was too many of them now for him to face. Hermione was practically snarling as Bellatrix pulled at her hair, but she said nothing as her wand was snatched from her hand. Ron too gave up his wand without a fight, still scowling at Draco through a black eye and bleeding nose.

The room seemed suddenly very quiet. "Where did he go?" shrieked Bellatrix. "What happened?"

Sarah wriggled again; it wasn't very comfortable being carried like roll of carpet. "Your spell," she said, her anger outweighing her fear for this mad looking witch. "It hit the copper pan, then it hit the jar of Floo powder, which exploded on Harry as he fell in the fire."

Bellatrix stared at her a moment. "You're lying!" she suddenly yelled, advancing towards Sarah and the brute holding her, dragging Hermione along with her. "That's not possible, where is he!"

Sarah tried to shrink away but she couldn't move very far. "I swear, that's what I saw!" she cried, suddenly regretting speaking up. "I don't know where he went, you have to tell Floo powder where you want to go!"

"It's true boss," said a skinny robed man with a gruff voice. He rubbed the blood from his lip as he collected himself off the floor. "I grabbed his ankles and he tripped and landed in the fire. Floo powder must have exploded on top of him."

Bellatrix seemed to vibrate with anger. Her wand was pointed at the man and away from Hermione in a heartbeat. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" she roared, and the man was back on the floor in a flash of green light before Sarah could even close her eyes.

"NO!" raved Bellatrix. "He was here, I HAD him!"

Sarah couldn't take her eyes off the man on the floor. Tears had sprung in her eyes and her whole body was shaking. Bellatrix hadn't even blinked, she'd just killed him, in a temper. He was a Death Eater, so Sarah didn't exactly care what happened to him.

But she did very much care what happened to her and her friends.

Bellatrix flung Hermione at a female Death Eater standing close by, making Draco struggle against the tall man currently clutching his shoulders. But as his wand had been confiscated too, there was little more he could do but bare his teeth.

Bellatrix aimed her wand right in Sarah's face and she couldn't help but cry out and flinch away. No spell came from it though. "Where would he have gone?" Bellatrix demanded. Sarah prised her eyes open and looked terrified at the witch.

"W-what?" she stammered.

Bellatrix looked like she might explode, and for a second Sarah was convinced she was about to unleash another killing curse. "Where," she said slowly through gritted teeth. "Would he have gone, give me some ideas."

Sarah felt her heart smashing into her ribcage. Even if she did know where Harry might choose to go, she wouldn't want to betray him. But it was highly likely Bellatrix would kill her too if she didn't help.

"The...the school?" she suggested meekly. She doubted he would go back there, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to send them back there looking. It could waste them hours.

But Bellatrix wasn't fooled. "Hardly," she scoffed in her high pitched voice. "We've got people all over there, why would he go back?"

Sarah started to panic. She literally couldn't think of anything else to say. She didn't even know where he lived in this reality, they had no parents and the house in Godric's Hollow had been destroyed.

"He might have gone to Sirius' other house," said Draco, still pulling at the tall Death Eater's hands. "Grimmauld Place in London."

Ron cried out in indignation from the floor, causing the Death Eater watching him to threaten a blow. "Stop helping her you bloody traitor!"

Bellatrix actually took the time to turn and sneer at him. "Idiot child," she spat. "He betrayed me right in front of your eyes then practically blew Higgins' head off over there." Sarah couldn't really see, but from the angle she was being held she could make out a pair of legs splayed on the floor in the direction Bellatrix had just indicated. Bellatrix turned back to Draco. "Little Sirius tore that house down when he left." Her face twisted. "That was a Black family heirloom. My family, our family. Are you trying to trick me baby Malfoy?" she asked dangerously in a sing-song voice.

"No," grunted Draco. "But if you're stupid enough to fall for it, that would be a bonus."

"Crucio!" Bellatrix screeched at him, and instantly he fell to the floor, screaming and writhing in agony.

"Stop!" yelled Hermione as Sarah watched on in horror. "Stop, stop it! Harry didn't give the Floo powder any directions! He'll just fall out a random fireplace, there's no way to tell where!"

Bellatrix, pulled her wand up, ending the curse and leaving Draco panting on the floor. "What," she snapped, crossing the kitchen and grabbing Hermione by the chin. "What did the little Mudblood say?"

"Leave her alone!" cried Remus, the only conscious one of their adult friends. "She's right. He might get picked up by the hub at the Ministry, but other than that he'd just tumble out when the explosion from the powder looses it's momentum."

"The Ministry?" she repeated. Remus nodded. Sarah guessed he thought they wouldn't be able to reach Harry if he emerged there, so there was no harm in telling her. But Bellatrix suddenly looked delighted, and even laughed.

"Thank you puppy," she said, then turned to address the Death Eaters crammed into the kitchen and the corridor. "Bring the vermin, we'll need hostages."

She swept out of the room as the Death Eaters did as they were told, and the big brute followed Bellatrix out with Sarah still bouncing under his arm.

Bring them where?

xxx

Harry wasn't sure when the spinning had stopped, but now he was definitely not spinning. Now he was lying on the ground, ground that smelled like earth, ground that tickled. He opened his eyes groggily, and realised he was face down on some grass. Traffic rumbled in the distance, and the first hints of twilight edged the horizon.

With a groan he rolled onto his back and blinked. The Floo powder – the whole jar had landed on him. He hadn't told it where he wanted to go, but it had spun him off anyway. He guessed enough powder would have the power to do that.

What had happened to the others? he panicked. He'd left them with Bellatrix and who knew how many other Death Eaters. How long had he been unconscious for, how long since he'd left them? He had to work out how to get back to them, to help them, and fast.

He sat up and looked around. There was a large circle of hulking stones arranged around him, some propped up on top of each other like gateways, two upright with a third balanced on top. Then another cluster of rectangular stones in what might have been an inner circle. In the dipping light their shadows were long and formidable, and the damp cool breeze made Harry shiver. He felt a chill on his spine.

Stonehenge, that's what it was called he was almost certain. He'd seen it on the telly, it was a tourist attraction, an old Pagan place. He had no idea where in the country that was, but it certainly wasn't in Sirius Black's kitchen.

There was movement to Harry's right, and he snatched up his wand ready to defend himself. A man had poked his head around one of the big stones, looking up at it with interest. "Did that work?" he asked eagerly. "I think that worked!" he grinned before slumping his shoulders, his face dropping. "I'm not even sure what I'm doing any more."

"Who are you!" cried Harry, scrambling to his feet. "What am I doing here!"

The man turned and looked at Harry in delight. "Oh you can see me," he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together and stepping out from behind the rock. "Well that is a good start!"

"Don't come any closer!" warned Harry, brandishing his wand, and the man threw up his hands, diving back behind the rock before Harry could get a proper look at him.

"Whoa!" he cried. "Now hold on just a tick!" His accent was extremely proper. Harry could have imagined him piloting a fighter plane back in the Second World War, but from what he'd spied of his jeans he looked modern enough. "I'd really rather you didn't turn me into a toad before I've had a chance to explain myself."

Harry wasn't feeling particularly patient. "How did I get here?" he asked, suspicious. "Did you bring me here!" Other than the thrumming road a few hundred feet away, there was literally nothing else in sight other than fields, so to his mind it made sense.

"Um," said the man sheepishly, darting his head out for just a second again. "Maybe?"

"What do you mean 'maybe'?" snapped Harry, taking another step closer to him. He didn't seem to have his own wand, but he did seem to know what Harry's could do. So did that make him a Squib? "Who are you?"

The man's hand popped out from behind the rock, waving a white handkerchief. "A friend," he announced.

"A friend?" Harry repeated.

"Yes!" cried the man, snatching back his hanky and peering once more at Harry. "A good one, you've no idea, I'm a great friend if you'd just give me a shot." He looked Harry up and down, then darted back out of sight again.

"If you say you're a friend," Harry challenged, getting closer to the stone. "Why would you take me away from my own friends when they were in trouble?" He was half thinking he could pounce on the man, take him by surprise, when his voice came from behind a completely different stone pillar a dozen feet away.

"Now, now," said the man sternly. "That was all you, you got yourself into the Floo Network all by yourself. I just plucked you out again, that's what friends do."

Harry's eyes darted left and right. Perhaps he was magical after all if he could move around like that, and he knew about the Floo Network as well? "So you're saying you rescued me?" he asked him as an evening breeze pulled at his t-shirt. The days may have been swelteringly hot lately, but the evenings betrayed the fact that autumn was fast approaching.

"Yes!" cried the man. "See, great friend, told you so."

Harry wasn't sure where this was going. "How did you manage that?" he asked. "You haven't got a wand, have you?"

"Oh no," said the man as if that was a silly idea. "Of course not. But it is a bit complicated to explain from behind an ancient monument." He peeked out again. "How about I come out, you hold off on the old Abracadabra, and I'll do my best to set things straight?"

Harry looked at his wand. "Erm," he said. "I promise not to shoot you yet," he called back. "But I'm not putting my wand away. I've had a bad day."

There was a pause. "Okay, I think that's fair enough," said the man, and a few seconds later a head of expertly styled blond highlights came slowly out. He had his arms raised, and as he became fully visible Harry could see he was a slim, wiry sort of fellow, a bit taller than Harry himself with skin as pale as milk. To his legs clung skinny black jeans, fraying at the knees, tucked into a large pair of old pirate boots. His faded t-shirt just about still read 'Glastonbury 1970', over which he was sporting a navy blue tailcoat, re-stitched in several places, with gaudy gold piping and lining that had definitely come from somewhere in the Far East. Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it all.

The man edged towards him in a hesitant, sideways fashion. When he was close enough, Harry was startled to see he was extraordinarily good-looking, a classic sort of handsome with a chiselled jaw and sky blue eyes watching him anxiously.

"Do I know you?" Harry asked, something niggling him at the back of his head. He was pretty sure he'd remember meeting someone like this, and he didn't think he had, but there was a spark of recognition none the less.

"Excellent question," said the man, giving Harry a point before clasping his hands back together. He was watching him anxiously, eyes flicking all over him as if looking for some discrepancy. "There might be a few times you could say we met, it depends on what you remember."

"That's not a real answer," argued Harry.

The man shrugged. "I think it's a perfectly decent one," he said. "I remember you just fine," he said.

"But how?" Harry asked frustrated. "We've never met before."

The man gestured between the two of them. "Not like this, no," he said eagerly. "But if you'd give me a chance-"

"Look," said Harry impatiently. "I haven't got time for this, my friends are in trouble and you're just talking in riddles."

The man looked hurt. "This wasn't how I'd pictured our first meeting going," he said, clutching at his highlights, and Harry felt his anger blowing out.

"Are you really trying to help me?" he asked, and the man perked up.

"Yes, yes, cross my heart and hope to die," he cried, actually crossing his heart with his index finger. Before bobbing his head from side to side. "Again. Hope to die, again," he said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. The man didn't look like a ghost, or a vampire, but how could he already be dead?

"Am…" Harry started, not believing he was actually going to say this out loud. "Am I dead?"

The man broke into a heartfelt laugh, bending double. "Oh gracious no," he said once he'd got his composure back. "No Harry, that would be crazy."

Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck go up. "How did you know my name?" he asked, tightening his grip on his wand.

The man looked guilty. "Ah, yes, that was a bit rude."

"Not the word I would have chosen," said Harry, raising his wand again.

The man threw up his hands again. "Wait, wait," he said. "How about we even the score, hm?" He hopped forward again and extended his hand to offer a shake. "My name's Alex," he said, then thought about it. "Well at least I think it was something like that, it's close enough anyway and probably much better than whatever it was before."

"Alex?" said Harry, ignoring the hand that was still hanging in mid-air.

"Yes," said the man who was apparently called Alex, a bright smile lighting up his face. "I like the 'x' in it, plus it could always be a girl's name which I think is quite fantastic, always like to keep people guessing." His hand was still out, so Harry finally gave in and, not taking his eyes off him or lowering his wand, shook it.

"Ah!" exclaimed Alex, and took Harry's hand with both his own in a firm, vigorous shake. "Magnificent to finally meet you Harry, a real pleasure."

"What do you mean 'finally'?" snapped Harry, yanking his hand away and taking a few steps back. "How do you know me?"

"Well, that's my job, so to speak," replied Alex, brushing his hands on the lapels of his tail coat. "Well, not 'job' I suppose, I don't get paid, no use for money you see, although I do like the ones that come in different colours, and the coins with the little holes in."

"Look!" said Harry sternly. "I've just been dragged through the Floo Network against my will and had to abandon my friends to one of the most dangerous witches in the country!"

"I know," said Alex, suddenly calm.

"So I would really appreciate if you – hang on," said Harry, interrupting himself. "What do you mean you know?"

Alex had his hands up again, but his face was now all seriousness. "I saw you fall into the fireplace and I saw what happened with the powder, that's what I do, I see, I watch, my people – we're called Watchers, immortals, well, once living, dead now but we're allowed to carry on living, I guess is the best way to put it." Harry doubted that but he let Alex carry on speaking without interruption. "I saw you fall into the network and it meant you were in a state of transit, plus it knocked you out cold, so I knew it was my chance, probably the best chance I'd have in a while and I couldn't afford to wait for another one."

Harry stared at him as another breeze tugged at his clothes and made him shiver. "A...Watcher," he said.

"Yes," said Alex, a little more cheerful. "Watchers, we were born human or whatever but we didn't stay that way. How that happened is complicated and not wholly relevant to this story. What is relevant is we do what the name says – watch. Make sure everything stays in line and very rarely when it's not in line we have to go and sort it out. Think of me as a librarian, cataloguing the whole universe and keeping it all numerically and alphabetically in line. When it stops being like that I have to swoop down and dish out the fines, but less with money and more with big fiery death."

"Big...fiery death?" said Harry uncertainly.

"Actually, no, that was just being melodramatic," said Alex reproachfully. "But the point is there's no fines, I don't do money remember?"

Harry felt very tired all of a sudden. "So, you watch to make sure the universe stays in line?"

Alex nodded. "Yes," he said. "Been doing that since Julius Cesar was stomping about the place."

Cesar? That would make him, what, a thousand years old? Harry couldn't even imagine being alive that long, and he thought of Nicholas Flannel and his Philosopher's Stone.

"So..." he said, weighing up his words. "Why did you pull me out of the Floo Network?"

"Because," said Alex, raising an eyebrow and giving him a half smile. "You have something that doesn't belong in this universe, don't you Harry?"

xxx

As soon as the big guy dropped Sarah to the ground Draco knew there would be trouble. "No!" she cried out and tried to bolt for it. "No I'm not going with you, I won't let you, you can't take me!" The oaf of a man gave her a solid backhand that sent her flying to the grass in Sirius' front garden. Draco had been released by his own Death Eater as they prepared for what he assumed to be side-along apparition, so he leapt to Sarah's side to pull her off the ground.

"We'll go with you!" he yelled as several Death Eaters raised their wands. "We'll go quietly, there's no need to hit her, she's a third of you size you coward." The ogre went to raise his hand to obviously give Draco a taste as well, but Bellatrix came storming back out again having rounded up the rest of her team.

"Enough!" she barked. "I've had enough of this flea-infested house, it stinks of wet dog and curry. Move out!"

She spun on her heals and vanished.

"No," whimpered Sarah as everyone else fussed around and started grabbing hostages to side-apparate with. "I'm not going to be a prisoner again, I'll fight I won't-"

"Stand a chance," said Draco hurriedly. "You're unarmed and tiny. I promise I'll protect you and we'll all get out of this, just don't struggle, not for now."

Sarah clamped her jaw shut as a different Death Eater picked her up and apparated out of sight. Draco let himself be dragged up too and hoped he could keep his promise to the youngest Potter.

He felt the familiar sensation of being pressed from all directions, and just when he started struggling to breath, they popped back into reality in a ordinary looking city alleyway. Ron arrived with his captor about the same time, and when he saw where they were he groaned.

"How can we be here," he said.

"Where's here?" hissed Draco as another robed figure emerged from nowhere with an unconscious Sirius Black in tow.

"Give us a hand," grunted Sirius' captor to Draco's, so he left them both in the charge of Ron's protector, who seemed more interested in picking his teeth than his teenage wizards.

"Ministry of Magic," he said, nodding his head at a red public telephone box up ahead. "Visitor's entrance. Dad took me and Ginny here a couple of times during school holidays."

Draco stared at the box and tried to imagine how it lead to Great Britain's most important wizarding political stronghold. He came up short. Why were they here? Surely...surely the Death Eaters couldn't have taken over the Ministry as well as the school. Could they?

"I hope she's okay." If he hadn't have been standing right next to him, Draco might not have heard Ron speak at all.

"Who?" he asked, as several more Death Eaters popped up behind them, one of which was grasping a dishevelled looking Hermione.

"My sister," said Ron. "Ginny. She's in the school somewhere, I just...hope she's okay." Draco couldn't help but stare at him. He'd ranted and raved about leaving Blaise, but this was the first he knew Ron even had a sister. His thoughts were drawn back though to the redhead by the fireplace in Gryffindor's common room; he'd thought at the time how similar the two had looked.

"I'm sure she's fine," said Hermione. "She's with all the others – where are we?"

"Shut up," grumbled a pear-shaped woman with a lop-sided hair cut. Draco looked around and grabbed Sarah's hand as they were ushered up to the phone box. Remus was propping up a spaced-out looking Tonks, but Sirius was still very much out for the count.

Hermione looked sorrowfully at Draco. "Looks like we're going in."

They were forced into the box in small groups, packing in up to half a dozen people at a time. Draco and Sarah went in the third group, with four Death Eaters guarding over them. He wasn't sure how they thought they'd escape whilst jammed into a box together, but he figured now wasn't the time to ask.

The box gave a shudder then lowered into the concrete like he'd seen it do twice before. The thing rumbled and Draco had an irrational fear it would suddenly drop, like when Muggle elevators broke in their televisions or films or whatever they called them. He never liked using those, and he wasn't feeling so hot about the phone booth either.

Bellatrix was waiting for them in the Atrium, and Draco's heart sank as the hall came properly into view. The dark wooden walls were lined with fireplaces sill merrily crackling away, however all the witches and wizards attempting to go in, out or past the mantles were frozen stiff, just like the students of Hogwarts. Almost as if on cue, a pair of Wranglers flew overhead as they stepped from the telephone box, making Sarah shudder visibly beside Draco.

"He's not here," snapped Bellatrix, her arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. The Death Eaters accompanying Draco and Sarah looked scared to speak, but it seemed she was just announcing Harry's absence rather than expecting an answer, as she said exactly the same thing to the next two groups as well.

Remus was in the fifth and final group, and when Bellatrix relayed her information he looked quite relieved, which Bellatrix did not take kindly to. "He might still show up here," he said hastily, clinging onto Tonks as she tried desperately to blink her eyes open and stand on her own two feet. Draco saw her hair had gone from bubblegum pink to a sort of mousey brown, which he couldn't really find the energy to explain.

"I want them locked up," Bellatrix snapped to one of the Death Eaters that seemed to be somewhat more senior than the others. "Put the children in an office and take the adults down to Courtroom Ten." Without another word she stalked off, boots slamming on the polished oak floor.

Draco felt a wand stick into his back. "Come on," said the oafish man who'd been holding Sarah. "This way, no trouble now."

Draco looked mournfully back as Remus, Tonks and the still unconscious Sirius were taken in one direction, and himself, Sarah, Hermione and Ron were herded to the lifts. Nobody spoke as they waited for a lift to appear, and Draco got that slightly sick feeling in his stomach again. The lift doors pinged open, and there was more than enough room for them to fit inside. Pleasant sounding music plinked along as the elevator descended.

Luckily they only went down to the fourth floor, the first being at the top where they started, and once the doors opened they were marched down towards the Department of Goblin Liaison. One of the Death Eaters grabbed the handle of a random office, hauled it open, and shoved each of the students inside. "Be good boys and girls now," he said mockingly, flashing several gold teeth, then slammed the door shut in Draco's face.

He swore. Very loudly.

"You said it," grumbled Ron, flopping into one of the seats in front of a particularly messy desk, who's owner was frozen behind it. He was a balding man with a tie that showed a dragon flying around, breathing bright red cartoon fire. There were several mugs on his desk, all of which looked like they'd been mashed together by small children, and a fat teddy bear hugging a large heart that read 'Happy Anniversary Pudding!' Draco scowled and wondered how many innocent people had been hooked up to the Wranglers giant human battery.

"What are we going to do?" demanded Sarah, her hands balling into fists. "We have to get out of here and rescue Harry! I'm not waiting around for them to come back!"

Draco rested his head on the office door and sighed. His headache was still there, refusing to go away. Maybe he should try and drink some water. Or fire whisky.

"Yes," he said. "I agree on all points." He raised his throbbing head and turned around to look at their surroundings. "Let's go over the entire room and look for any possible weak points."

"That's exactly what I was going to suggest," said Hermione huffily, and began rooting around the desk, ignoring the man sitting in the chair. "I can't believe, they've taken the Ministry as well, I just can't. This is a disaster."

"Was it the Wranglers?" asked Draco as he inspected the skirting boards. "Was that how they were able to do it?"

Hermione made a tsking noise. "I suppose so, they would have had to have been breeding them like crazy, and they'd still need to break all kinds of protective enchantments and get past some of the most highly trained wizards in the country." She shook her head and sat on her heels. "I just can't believe it."

Draco didn't have anything to say to that. It was incredibly unlikely, but like Harry said how unlikely had his circumstances been when he'd travelled back to his and Sarah's universe.

"My face hurts," said Ron, prodding his black eye gently. He caught Draco's eye, and suddenly looked guilty. "Um," he said, shifting in his seat. "Sorry for hitting you at Sirius' house, I wasn't thinking straight." Draco shrugged; Ron hadn't managed to land a single punch on his face, and only a few to his torso that had caused minimal bruising. Draco, on the other hand, and caused the mess that Ron Weasley was currently wearing as a face.

"Do you believe I'm on your side now?"

Ron sighed. "You're in here aren't you. If you were with them you'd be out there, so yeah, I guess so."

Draco nodded and didn't press the matter. That was probably the best he was going to get.

They searched every inch of the balding man's office, but unsurprisingly they found nothing of note except a large wardrobe that contained nothing but novelty ties and a goldfish bowl with a piranha humming 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair.'

Before long an hour had passed and Draco wasn't sure what to do. As the Ministry was underground, the view from the window behind the balding man was fake; fake skyline, fake sunshine, fake grass. It was tormenting Draco, whispering that there was a way out, but he wasn't clever enough to think of it.

"I was supposed to help," he muttered, finally resting his back against the wall and sliding down to sit on the floor with the others.

"Hmm?" said Hermione, looking up from the stain on the carpet she'd been staring at for the last five minutes.

Sarah scooted over and sat right next to Draco. Obediently he lifted his arm up so she could duck under for a hug. "I was supposed to help, that's what I told Harry back at the school." He rubbed Sarah's arm and stared bitterly into the middle distance. "I'm in this world apparently because I'm an expert on how to break into Hogwarts, and what's happened? Hogwarts is still taken, we lost Harry and now we're stuck in someone's office waiting for the bad guys to come back." Sarah shivered against him and he rubbed her arm again. He didn't want to worry her more than she already was – she'd never spoken about what happened when the Death Eaters had taken her last time, but he had a feeling it wasn't good.

"At least you tried," said Hermione after a while. "It's...it's nice to see what Malfoy could be like. It's a bit of a shock actually."

He looked over to her and was surprised to see a hint of a smile. He allowed himself to give one back, before shaking his head. "I'm sure I used to be a lot like your Draco," he said with a sigh. "I let the Death Eaters in to release the Basilisk, and Harry here goes and bloody kills at the same age. How does that even happen."

That had been on his mind ever since it had been discussed back at the castle, but instantly he wished he hadn't brought it up. Hermione's face dropped and Ron swung round in his chair.

"You let the Basilisk out?" he said, stunned. Sarah jolted up away from Draco's side.

"No," she insisted. "That's not how it happened at all. They had Draco's mum hostage, they made him do the ritual to let them in, and then You-Know-Who let the Basilisk out."

"They set it on the students?" clarified Hermione. Draco felt wretched, he really didn't want to talk about the darkest moment of his life, particularly not with this alternate Hermione.

He nodded. "It..." he struggled to find his voice, and when he did it came out thick. "It didn't know the difference, it killed anybody it looked at it."

Ron looked appalled, but Hermione had gone very white. "I saw it in a hand mirror," she said in a small voice. "That's how I got Petrified."

Draco's voice abandoned him altogether at that. He felt irrationally guilty for getting Hermione hurt, even though it had been a different Basilisk, a different Hermione, a different world.

"What happened to it?" asked Ron after a few moments.

Draco frowned. "What?"

"The Basilisk? Did it go back under the school? Did Harry kill it again."

"Harry?" Draco couldn't help but laugh. "No I guess he was with Parvati and the others, there's no way he'd do anything heroic," he said, trying not to sound too sour. "He's nothing like your Harry – sorry Sarah." She shrugged.

"Fair point."

"There's no way he would have known what to do with a giant snake," said Draco a little more fairly. "What the hell did your Harry do for that matter?"

Ron shrugged. "Pulled the sword of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat, stabbed the snake in the head, rescued my sister then killed the bit of You-Know-Who's soul that had been hidden in a diary and had been controlling the Basilisk all along."

Draco stared at him. "So...he does this hero thing quite a lot then?"

Hermione and Ron both nodded.

Draco sighed and leant back against the wall, staring at the wardrobe. "Well, no body killed the Basilisk in my world. They took it to the lair in Germany, and as far as I know Barty Crouch Jr looked after it until the revolution last year. I have no idea what happened after that."

"Urgh," said Ron, then leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and prodded his black eye again.

Draco though was still staring at the wardrobe. He actually stared at it for a very long time, so much so Sarah practically fell asleep on his side. "Hey guys," he said eventually, nudging Sarah awake. "I think I've got an idea."

xxx

"You're talking about the photograph?" asked Harry. He'd taken the family portrait from the Potter's wall in a moment of madness, a reaction to the disbelief at the situation he had found himself in. That photograph had gone on to save his life when the Dementors had attacked them in Germany, and then somehow found its way back into his own world with him. He'd hidden it away at the back of his photo album and hadn't had the courage to look at it much, but the thought of giving it back made him sad, almost a little fearful. He had never wanted to forget the Potters, the life he knew they were living somewhere out in the cosmos.

"The photograph?" repeated Alex. "Oh come on Harry, you started out with the excellent questions, where did they go? The photograph? A photograph would hardly threaten the existence of the Multiverse now would it?"

Harry stared back at him and couldn't help but shiver yet again as an evening breeze went through him. It was particularly windy up there on Stonehenge. "Multiverse?"

"Yes," said Alex waggling a finger. He seemed not to care one jot that Harry still had his wand trained on him, but it didn't make him put it down. "As in more than one universe, as you well know, millions, trillions." He shrugged. "I don't actually know how many there are anymore, I lost count during the War of the Roses." He too then shivered, despite having far many more layers of clothing on than Harry. "Goodness it is a bit chilly, shall we relocate ourselves somewhere a little more comfy?"

Harry looked around at the grass and the stones and traffic speeding along on the busy road a few hundred meters away. "Why did you bring me here?" he asked instead of replying to Alex's request. He wasn't sure he wanted to go anywhere with this strange man. "They're aren't even any fireplaces."

"Ah!" he said, waving his hands around. "Another excellent question, well done. You are quite right, there are no longer any fireplaces, but years and years and years ago this used to be a meeting point, like the very first Floo hub. All that transient energy makes reality a bit thin around here too, why the Pagans liked it so much I guess, so that's why you can see me – very handy when you want to have a conversation with someone." He beamed at Harry. "I was able to channel that energy and pluck you out here, which believe me is much better than being plucked out at the Ministry, there's bad stuff happening there, very bad stuff." His face had grown dark, and Harry waited a moment before opening his mouth again.

"The Ministry?"

"Yes," piped up Alex, cheery again. "The biggest hub in Britain, chances are you would have tumbled out there and that's not a good place to be right now."

"Why not?" Harry asked uneasily, thinking of Hogwarts and all its frozen students.

"Really, I do think we should go somewhere more comfortable Harry, we have a lot to discuss."

Harry considered him a moment, then sighed and finally lower his wand. His arm had been starting to hurt anyway. "How do I know I can trust you though?" he asked bluntly.

Alex regarded him and cocked his head. "Because the fate of the Multiverse depends on it. Are you really willing to risk that?"

Harry felt very small and helpless. Here he was again being forced into a situation with immense pressure on his head. "Okay," he said in a small voice.

"Wonderful," said Alex warmly, and put his arm around Harry's shoulders. They walked around behind the pillar of stone that Alex had originally appeared behind, and Harry felt his ears pop and his stomach drop. He blinked instinctively, and was shocked to see he was no longer at Stonehenge, but in a wooden entrance hall with torches blazing on the walls and plush rugs lining the floors.

"Marvellous," announced Alex, slamming the front door closed, a huge thing made of dark wood and lacquered to shining brilliance. From the paler beams that held the walls and ceiling up hung a wrought iron chandelier with dozens of candles burning merrily away.

"This way, this way," instructed Alex, practically skipping through the open entranceway on their right. It was a room lined on one wall with a giant stone fireplace, a blaze crackling quietly away, barely higher than the simmering coals. There was a low but wide coffee table in front of the fire by a squishy looking sofa that was absolutely covered in food that looked like it was intended for a children's party; plates of triangled sandwiches, bowls of crisps and trays of biscuits, cheese and pineapple on sticks and even a couple of jellies wobbling on dishes.

"I do hope you're hungry," he said, shrugging off his tailcoat. "I never get to have visitors round so I put on a bit of a spread. Something to drink? I have squash, tea or absinthe."

"Erm," said Harry, looking about the room distractedly. "Tea please, two sugars – who are they?"

He was looking at the wall to the left of the fireplace which was covered with mismatching photo frames, all different sizes and colours. Each one contained a different portrait, some photos, most were paintings, of men and women in what looked to be their twenties and thirties. They were of all kinds of different races and nationalities as far as Harry could see. When Alex had entered the room several had waved shyly or enthusiastically, some had blown kisses. One was now doing something rather rude with her tongue.

"Friends," explained Alex, leaping over and flipping the provocative lady over with a slam. "Old friends, naughty friends, friends who will-" he raised his voice "-end up in the attic if they don't behave!"

Harry felt a bit embarrassed, as by the look of it so did Alex. "Two sugars was it?" he asked. Harry nodded and Alex darted off, perhaps to his kitchen to make tea. Harry sat himself down on the sofa and eyed up the food in front of him. He was surprisingly hungry after everything that had happened that afternoon, but didn't know if he should dare eat anything.

"Dig in, dig in," called Alex as he came back in with a cup of tea in each hand. "I made it all myself, sandwiches are my speciality." He plonked down Harry's teacup on the table in front of him, then dropped himself into the armchair at the end of the table. The photos were now on Harry's left, so he turned his back to them to look at Alex instead. They made him feel like he was intruding on something personal.

"That's a lot of food," Harry said, then felt a little rude. His friends were in trouble and the so-called 'Multiverse' was at stake, and he was intimidated by a few sandwiches? If he was honest, he was intimidated by the whole situation, but he didn't understand what that really entailed, so was focusing on the cheese and pineapple instead.

"Well," said Alex, a little reserved. "I'd planned on it being three of us, but we decided that might get a little...tricky." He clapped his hands together. "So it's just the two of us, I hope that's alright?"

Harry felt awkward again. "Yeah, of course," he said. He picked up his cup, and ornate china one with a chip in the floral pattern at the top. "Thanks," he said before taking a sip. He didn't feel right drinking tea in a nice living room with his friends in trouble, but it was all so strange he felt like he should just let it play out for a moment or two longer.

"No problem, no problem," said Alex with a flick of his hand. He leant forward to grab a pink party ring and began munching. "So you had questions didn't you, several very good ones, why don't you ask them again?"

Harry figured if Alex was eating the food it might be okay, so reached forward and plucked a sandwich from one of the piles. Raspberry jam and peanut butter, which he couldn't ignore once he'd seen it. "What's happened to the Ministry?" He figured that was a simpler one to start with.

The answer was exactly what he'd feared. "The same thing that you saw happen to your school I'm afraid," said Alex heavily. "You're friends have been brought there, so I imagine you'll want me to drop you back their when we're done."

The peanut butter stuck in Harry's throat. "Are they okay?" he asked, feeling incredibly guilty for sitting enjoying peanut butter when his friends were in danger.

Alex waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, yes they're fine. Don't worry, time's a little bit more lenient here, I can deliver you up not long after you left."

Harry frowned and finished his sandwich. He wasn't sure he understood but Alex sounded confident enough.

"How can they be okay?" he asked. "I left them with Death Eaters, I thought they might be dead?"

Alex frowned and leant back over the arm of his chair. There was a spherical fish bowl half filled with strips of paper on a pedestal. They were maybe an inch long each and a third of that wide. He grabbed at a handful and started glancing at them, discarding them to the floor as soon as his eyes had set upon them. "Nope," he said confidently. "All fine, I assure you." He smiled at Harry as he flicked away the last one and brushed his fingers together.

Harry felt like his answer was definitive, even if he didn't understand it, but he figured the quicker he moved the conversation forward the quicker he could get back to his friends. "What else could I have from the other universe?" he asked, taking another sip of tea to wash away the jam. "All I have is the photograph."

Alex drummed his fingers on his teacup, his eyes never leaving Harry. "Are you sure?"

Harry frowned as he considered it. If he did have something else, he'd had absolutely no idea for the past ten months.

"Let me put it another way," said Alex, offering Harry the plate of biscuits and not taking it away until he'd had taken a custard cream. "When you travelled to the other universe in the first place, what did you bring with you?"

"My wand," said Harry straight away. He knew that was true, even before his and Voldemort's wands had connected in the Priori Incantatem.

Alex nodded. "Yes correct, good start, what else?" Harry looked at him, confused.

"Well...I don't think there was anything else. It was the other Harry's body, his clothes, his family." He thought back hard. "I mean, I think I still had my scar, you couldn't see it until I defeated Voldemort in that room with Sarah, but I felt it was there-"

Alex sloshed his tea on the table as he slammed the delicate looking cup down. "Bingo!" he cried. "Ten points for Gryffindor! What else happened when you were fighting Mr Big-Bad-Snake?"

In response, Harry rubbed his scar. "Well, I could still speak Parseltongue."

Alex actually punched the air. "Terrific!" He wiggled his fingers in happiness and selected a sandwich to take a bite of. His face dissolved into disgust however and he spat the bread and filling back out into his hand. "Blugh, marzipan, I hate marzipan." He dropped the half eaten bits of sandwich into his empty teacup, brushed his hands clean, and looked back at Harry.

"Why do you have the scar, and why would you feel it even when there was no physical mark?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He didn't really like discussing this, it made him feel contaminated. "Dumbledore said, he said that we're sort of connected. When Voldemort tried to kill me as a baby, he sort of..." He took a deep breath. "Left a part of him inside me."

Alex looked at him, still as a stone. "So what do you think happened when the other Voldemort tried to kill you in the other world?"

Harry didn't move. It felt as if all the air was slowly being taken out of the room as his vision started to swirl. "No..." he said, but Alex gave him no answer. "No, I can't, are...are you telling me I have something from two different Voldemorts in me!"

He jumped to his feet, whole body shaking, sandwich and tea threatening to come back up again. But it made sense, he knew it made sense. He dropped to his hands and knees as the world seemed to lurch violently. Dumbledore had said it was a bit of his soul, that's why he could speak Parseltongue and control the Basilisk and talk to any other snakes he'd met. The scar throbbed when he was near because that was a part of him.

"Harry," said Alex kindly but urgently. Harry hadn't seen him drop to the carpet beside him but he felt his arm on his back. "Harry it's okay. You're right, that's what I'm talking about, you have a part, a very small part but a part none the less, of that other Voldemort. But what I'm also trying to tell you is it can't stay, it cannot remain in your universe and I've got something to give you to help fix it."

Harry managed to take a proper breath and look up. His glasses had practically fallen off so he shoved them up again to see. "You can get it out of me?"

"Yes," replied Alex sincerely. "It's not meant to be there Harry, it's endangering the Multiverse and that's why I had to see you." He rolled his eyes. "This isn't necessarily the first time something like this has happened, but it still doesn't make it run of the mill." He scratched through his hair, mussing up his highlights. "I've got something to give you that will draw it out, it'll solve the problem, I promise."

Harry felt calm enough again, and even a little ashamed at his reaction. He rocked back and sat with his knees up on the floor. "What is it?"

Alex did a backwards roll with a flourish and knelt up to fetch something out of a box on a maple cabinet. He produced a fine silver chain with a pendant on the end. He leant forwards and dropped it into Harry's hand. The pendent was a haphazard cocoon of threaded silver, and inside a purple stone hung, not suspended by anything, just floating all by itself.

"It's an amulet," said Alex. "Well that's what I'd call it anyway, necklace doesn't seem manly enough for a chap like you."

"And this will get rid of the other bit of the other Voldemort?" asked Harry a little sceptically.

But Alex nodded. "You'll need to wear it from now on, it can come off when the time is right, but you'll know that all by yourself don't worry. For now though, keep it on."

Harry looked at it for a moment before putting it on. The metal was cold on his neck, and he held the pendant out in his hand to carry on looking at it. "Will it get rid of the other bit of Voldemort," he asked, his voice small. "The one I had before."

"No Harry," said Alex, reaching up and taking a cocktail stick of cheese and pineapple. "That bit belongs with you, the other soul doesn't."

Harry thought about that, and supposed he didn't mind. That part of him – the scar, he preferred to think of it as, not the soul – that part had saved him and Sarah, it had saved Ginny Weasley from the Basilisk. It was a part of him now more than Voldemort.

"Okay," he said, nodding. He hoisted himself back onto the sofa, still staring at the purple stone. He thought it sort of pulsed in his hand, but he could have just been imagining it.

"So," he said after a while, as Alex reached for his third cocktail stick and munched it still sat on the floor. "If this is such a massive problem for the universe, the Multiverse, does that mean you have to go and give a bunch of necklaces to hundreds of others Harrys?

Alex swallowed the cheese and pineapple and sucked his teeth clean. "Another splendid question," he said, but this time he was not excited, he sounded more sombre. Harry decided it would be best to wait for his answer rather than prompt. "The thing about universe crossing," said Alex after a while, wrapping his arms around his knees, lacing his fingers together and staring at the fire in the mantle. "Is it hardly ever happens. When it does, it is so unbelievably unlikely, it sort of sucks all the energy from the other possibilities into it."

He looked up at Harry. "You are the only Harry that made the Dimensional Leap, there are no others."

Harry clutched at the necklace and tried to blink the head rush away. "What..." he stammered. "But, the other Hermione said every possibility that could happen, does happen, there's a universe for everything."

"And normally she would be completely correct," said Alex, and Harry might have normally been impressed. Hermione had really guessed the answer to his dilemma last November apparently. But what Alex was saying was too much. "But the crossing counteracts that," he carried on. "What happened to you was the only way it happened, there is no world where you refused to go with Draco or Seamus never died. And consequently there is only one reality, this reality, where Draco and your sister Sarah made the jump back. Your two worlds are on a singular path, and will be for a very long time."

Harry felt numb. Having accepted alternate realities were real, it was frightening to think what he'd done had somehow stopped that. "When will our worlds start having other possibilities again then?"

Alex shrugged and carefully picked another sandwich. He inspected the contents before taking a bite. "Ah, spinach," he said, relieved. "It's like," he said, helping himself to a mouthful. "Ripples in a pond. I don't know if you realise, but the realities closest to your own are the ones where single changes have happened in the not too distant past. You were specifically reaching out for a world where Sirius had never been punished for Pettigrew's crime, but your neighbours are the ones where you chose different subjects for your NEWTs, or actually realised Ginny Weasley was in love with you and asked her out."

Harry opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but Alex ploughed on. "Therefore, once you move far enough away from the events surrounding the Dimensional Leaps, the neighbouring realities, the closest possibilities will start happening again." He finished his sandwich and frowned. "Actually, it might help to think about it as a branch of a tree. It has to grow out some way before it can start to produce its own little branches again."

Harry stared back at the pendant again and considered everything. It was a lot to take in. "But, you'll look after it, won't you, all the different realities. You'll make sure they stay in check once they start happening."

Alex actually laughed as he stood up and brushed the crumbs from his lap. "Heavens no Harry, they'll get their own Watchers, people taken from those timelines to guard over them." He reached down and offered Harry his hand, which he took and found himself pulled to his feet.

"Taken?" Harry repeated.

Alex shrugged. "Normally people that die in the creation of those new time lines, they're the most potent Watchers." He said it so nonchalantly, but Harry couldn't help but feel a jolt through him. Watchers came about through their deaths' creating new universes?

Alex just carried on though, as if this was a frightfully dull concept to him. "I watch over the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, in your reality only, which if you think about it is currently about sixty million people so it's enough to contend with."

"So, other Watchers look after different countries?" Harry asked, curious, as they walked to the front door. Hermione would be fascinated by this, and that dampened his morbid thoughts a little.

"Yes," said Alex proudly. "Although we got into a bit of logistical trouble with the British Empire and the Commonwealth and all that, trying to work out who's responsibility was what and then everything with the independences and all that. I had to take most of the seventies off to recover from that mess."

He smiled and rested his hand on the front door handle. "I'm sorry our time has been so short," he told Harry, resting the other hand on his shoulder. "But I can only borrow you for a little while. Remember, just keep the amulet on and everything will sort itself out."

Harry nodded and slipped the pendent underneath his t-shirt. "Erm..." he said, awkwardly. "Well thanks for the tea."

"No trouble, no trouble at all," replied Alex, turning the handle and flinging the door open. Harry felt his stomach drop out through his shoes. "We'd best be getting you to Whitehall now, hadn't we. You're friends are very worried about you."

Harry gawped at what lay outside the door. It was only now did he realise all the windows had had nets or curtains drawn across them, and it had just looked a bit dark from what Harry had seen.

From what he saw now, it seemed as if Alex's house was hanging in the middle of space.

Infinite stars twinkled in every direction, including down directly below his feet, which made Harry balk. "I...I have to go out there?" he clarified.

Alex patted him on the back. "Nothing to worry about," he said cheerfully. "I'll send you as close to them as possible, you'll want to use the visitor's entrance I imagine."

Harry looked out helplessly. "I guess so." He edged closer to the doorstep. "Will I ever see you again?" he asked, turning back to face the Watcher. "Can you help me some more?"

Alex cocked his head. "Perhaps," he said contemplating. "But if all goes to plan I should really rather hope not."

Harry nodded. He thought he'd prefer it if the universe stayed in line too.

"Just step outside and I'll have you back in a jiffy," said Alex with a smile.

So Harry turned around, and without another moment's pause, stepped out into the vastness of the cosmos.