To Dwell on Dreams

Chapter Three -

What's My Line?

Well, that was a bit of a shock.

It passed pretty quickly.

"What the Hell are you doing here Malfoy?" Harry spat out. The blond boy gave him a surely look, shoved past Harry and walked into the living room. Parvati gasped when she saw who it was, Seamus jumped to his feet. From their reaction Harry gathered Malfoy's appearance was as much of a shock to them as it was to him. Notch up one for this world - at least he wasn't bestest buddies with The-Boy-Who-Wore-To-Much-Hair-Gel.

Harry paused a second then slammed the door. He thought he would have been more surprised at Draco Malfoy showing up at his home, but taking into context the day so far, Snape could probably have arrived on one knee and proposed and he wouldn't have been that fazed.

Seamus, however, looked to be barely containing his rage; his fists clenching and unclenching in time to the vain throbbing in his temple. Parvati sneered and bit her polished thumb nail; something Hermione had told Harry she only did when she was extremely agitated...like when Harry had walked off on her at the Yule Ball; but they didn't talk about that much.

And Hermione...well, she obviously had no clue who this strange boy was, but she certainly sat up in her chair at the other three's reaction.

Malfoy stopped in the middle of the living room, apparently unaware that everyone was gawking at him, stuck his hands in his pockets and looked round at the surroundings. He grimaced as Sarah struck a wrong note on the piano. "Well isn't this nice Potter?" he said in a bored tone, turning his head sideways to look at the books on the shelves. Parvati came close to growling.

Finally, Malfoy turned and made eye-contact with Harry as if it was costing him by the minute. It wasn't like he'd just barged into his house or anything now was it?

Harry crossed his arms and gave him an equally intense stare, weighing up this world's Draco. As usual when not in school uniform, he was decked head to toe in Gladrags Wizardwear; trousers, shirt, cloak, even the satchel slung around his neck was decorated in silver GWs.

But, he was, well...dirty.

Draco Malfoy didn't do dirty. Hermione had often speculated he was in fact incapable of such a state. Yet, here he was; trousers torn, cloak ripped and muddy, face smeared and hair totally dishevelled and windswept. He looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Oh for a camera, thought Harry wistfully.

Seamus was stood by Harry's side, arm's folded. "You're a bit lost, aren't you Death Eater?" he spat venomously.

And what?

Was Harry supposed to be surprised?

He had long suspected the only thing that had prevented the ferret-faced git from running off and joining daddy and his mask-wearing snake worshipers as a full-time occupation was the attentions of Pansy Parkinson and her insufferable Draco Malfoy Oestrogen Brigade. Vanity was, after all, something Malfoy excelled at.

That and withering looks. The one he was wearing now however was decisively poor in comparison to those he normally reserved for Harry. Obviously not enough practice.

Draco had chosen to ignore Seamus. "I came here to talk with you Potter," he paused to throw Parvati a disdainful look and shrugged his shoulders, "when you've finished your Brownie meeting of course."

Seamus made a move to grab Malfoy by the collar; it was all that was needed to send him tripping over his own muddy feet and onto the floor.

"Whoa there Seamus," said Harry flinging his arm out into Seamus' chest. He was actually quite curious to find out what Malfoy wanted from him - he'd blatantly trekked a long way to get it - and besides, if anyone was going to hit him, it would be Harry. At his restraint Seamus backed off and was content to stare daggers from a distance...just for now anyway.

Draco stood himself up in front of the fireplace. There was a mirror hanging above the mantle; when Malfoy's reflection caught sight of his real alter-ego he made a noise like a strangled cat, presumably not having seen him for a week or two, and whimpered about manicures and conditioning shampoo. The real Malfoy scowled and attempted to straighten his hair, dropping his filthy bag on the floor as he did.

He seemed not to notice his momentary loss of all dignity. "You really ought to put a lead on him Potter," he said off-handedly, like he was discussing the weather.

Harry wasn't particularly in the mood. "What do you want Malfoy?"

"Water."

"Come again?" said Harry.

"A glass," he repeated slowly, "of water. I'm parched." Harry starred, incredulous. "I could get it myself," he prompted.

"You came all this way for water?" asked Parvati disbelieving.

"No, shit for brains, I came here for Potter's help, the water's-" but Parvati didn't wait to find out what the water was.

"Help? " she spat out, throwing up her hands in disgust, "Harry's HELP? You utterly...vile creature; the audacity! Help? " She too was now standing, fists clenched and shaking with anger. Harry was actually quite shocked - Parvati tended to paddle around the shallow end of the pool when it came to real emotion - sure she cried a Hell of a lot, but it was over stolen boyfriends, or the latest cat fight with Lisa Turpin, not anything real. Yet here she was, infuriated over Harry's well-being. "Why should he do anything of the sort the way you've treated him - us? You traitorous piece of-"

"For the benefit of Mankind?" suggested Malfoy impatiently.

Just for once, Parvati was lost for words. Harry had to admit he was also quite shocked - he was expecting something along the lines of 'because I'll have your arms broken if you don't?' not a declaration to save the world.

"Well," he drawled as an after-thought, "Wizardkind really if you want to be picky - the Muggles can all go hang."

And a spectacular return to form.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry repeated, as Hermione stood carefully up. She was smart enough to recognise the filthy tone of the blond boy's voice when he said 'Muggles'. "You want me to join the Death Eaters or something? Because I'm going to take a wild guess and say I've already passed you up on that offer."

Draco smirked. "When I gave you that ultimatum Potter, before we closed down that breeding ground for Mudbloods in '93, I gave you two choices on my exit: join us or die. What I didn't realise was there are actually three choices, and I myself am also privy to them."

"So we get to kill you?" asked Seamus hopefully, rolling up his sleeves, "neat."

"Neat?" sneered Malfoy, "okay Finnigan, the Fifties called, they want their lingo back."

"What-?"

"Three choices," he repeated firmly, "join us, die, or change."

There was a pause. "How change?" said Parvati carefully. Malfoy flicked his eyes in her direction.

"The situation has changed. People have changed. The balance of power has changed."

"And being a pact of Slytherins you're just itching to take advantage of everyone and everything?"

Malfoy switched his gaze to Harry. "Stop jumping to conclusions Potter, you Gryffindors are crap at it." He kicked at his bag spitefully, "it wasn't meant to be like this," he muttered to no one in particular, "there was this big plan, my Father told me about it all the time, but everything's different now."

There was a pause, Draco let out a broken sigh.

"The Dark Lord believes himself to be superior," Malfoy continued, "which, believe me, I'm not going to argue with. The problem is, to be superior, you need someone underneath you to dominate, otherwise everything falls apart"

His eyes dropped to the floor; he blinked and chewed his lip before lifting his gaze out the window. Hermione tutted, folded her arms and arched an eyebrow from behind Malfoy, just so Harry could see. She wasn't impressed, "what an act," she muttered. Draco turned slowly around and gave her half an incredulous glare. "How long have you been waiting to say this?" she demanded. "Honestly, you couldn't sound more rehearsed if you tried; do add another dramatic pause or sigh." Harry was impressed - she obviously hadn't lost all her confidence then. He also noticed Seamus and Parvati looking at her with increasing respect; it gave him an odd sense of pride.

Draco clenched his jaw, went to say something, changed his mind and turned back round as if she weren't there. "He's reckless," he carried on stiffly - everyone knowing who 'he' was - "there's no order - no logic to his plans. The Muggle killings are one thing," he paused to blow out a breath and shake his head - Harry felt he couldn't help doing it, "but...it's all getting out of hand. The publicity for one thing - Muggles aren't as thick as you'd think, they know something's up when people keep disappearing."

Seamus' look suggested he didn't think Muggles were thick - him being Half-Blood and everything - Harry wondered if Malfoy knew that? "It's not good for any wizard - prying Muggles - you can't wipe the entire memory of Great Britain if some one goes public about the existence of magic."

Here Malfoy genuinely seemed to fault, ever so slightly revealing some real emotion. "And if someone questions him, on that or anything else...he kills them." He kicked his bag again. "Instantly, without question. His own people." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Soon there'll be no one left."

"And when am I supposed to care?" interrupted Seamus, either not seeing the look of remorse or just not caring, "I didn't hear this sob-story when the Weasleys were murdered in cold blood."

"No, you didn't," replied Draco as if that was obvious.

Well okay.

"Contrary to popular public opinion," he continued on waspishly, obviously getting fed up of being interrupted, "The Dark Lord is not all powerful, and is certainly not that invincible. That little spat of his with Dumbledore has left him pretty week and pathetic. Some might say vulnerable."

"Like you?" put in Hermione helpfully, her tone cold though. Draco raised an eyebrow, less irritated at the interruption this time; Harry guessed he wanted someone to ask this particular question...just not Hermione.

"Like us," he corrected tersely, "not me, us. Things were fine when we were in charge - we had everyone running scared. But like I said, things have changed." His face was like a mask, he turned to Harry, "Things are getting really serious; I like a hierarchy Potter, as long as I'm on the top. I want out, I want you're help to do it, enough's enough. Muggles, Wizards - allies and enemies; the killing's gone to far."

"A resistance movement, how cute." Seamus had his arms folded still, "so why again, are you here at Godric's Hollow, and not, oh - say - The Ministry?"

"Because The Dark Lord is weak; if we're going to strike it has to be now. We have a plan, and several back-up plans to match, but without Potter here, it's all just talk." The young Death Eater turned his eyes pointedly on Harry. "No Cornelius Fudge dithering and screwing things up, no Aurors blowing things and/or people up, and certainly no Dumbledore being all up himself trying to settle some score. No," he shook his head, "all we need, is Harry here."

He raised his eyebrows in a superior kind of way, waiting for Harry to freak. But if this was supposed to be some kind of fabulous revelation - that he was the special one, Harry wasn't that impressed - he was The Boy Who Lived after all, famous for defeating Voldemort on numerous occasions.

Well, in one lifetime anyway.

But it wasn't Harry who spoke. "You know Harry can fight You-Know-Who and win," Hermione said confidently, like when she took on Snape in Potions, "don't you?" Malfoy turned to Hermione. "You know he's different. You need him." She'd apparently remembered what Harry had told her, all about defeating Voldemort. He was a little creeped out by the idea she was recalling his life's events like some History project.

"Okay, who the Hell are you?" Malfoy said shaking his open hands at Hermione in frustration. "Why do you keep spouting off?"

"Because I'm right, aren't I?" He paused a second, then crossed his arms and huffed. It was quite a child-like gesture.

"Leave her alone Malfoy," warned Seamus, looking confused still about what had just been said; Harry could tell he was going huh? over and over again in his head until the word lost what little meaning it had. "She's lucky enough not to know what you are."

"I'm the deputation," he sniped, "I've climbed Hell and high waters to get here, and none of you are appreciating it, bloody Gryffindors, this is momentous-"

"Crap," cut in Seamus, "this is blatant desperation, you would never ask for a Gryffindor's help unless it was the last option on Earth."

"It is the only option you Irish moron! That girl's right - whoever the Hell she is!"

"Hermione Granger," she supplied, a little smug.

Malfoy's reaction was instantaneous - he spun around to face her in fury and disbelief. "Mudblood!" he hissed two inches from her face.

In a second Seamus had thrown his weight into Malfoy's back and shoved him against the wall past Hermione. Harry was too shocked to stop him. How did Malfoy know Hermione was Muggle-born?

"Try spewing obscenities with your teeth on the ground Snake," and Seamus punched him in the stomach, hard.

For a moment Harry watched on - then realised what he was seeing. "Stop it," he said as Seamus kicked the already winded boy on the floor. "Stop it! Seamus, STOP IT! " His friend jerked up as Harry yelled at him.

The house was silent. "Don't sink to his level," he said simply. Seamus truly hated him thought Harry; Malfoy must have done something spectacularly awful to get the usually gentle boy so mad.

Seamus slowly stood up; his eyes on Harry, Draco was shuddering breaths on the floor, his teeth gritted and intact.

"Harry, what the Hell is going on in there?"

James Potter walked through from the kitchen, a glass of fire-whisky in his hand. His mum was by James' side; they were closely followed by another...Sirius Black.

"Sirius-" breathed Harry weekly, shocked and totally taken aback.

He looked so different; healthy, tanned, smart, clean-shaven, and - happy. He raised his eyebrows when Harry said his name, his parent's didn't really notice though.

Forgetting everyone around him, everything that had happened that day and just this evening, Harry ran to his Godfather and flung his arms around him.

"Erm..." Sirius managed whilst everyone else stared.

"I-I thought you were dead," Harry uttered; it was close enough to the truth. He didn't want to let go. He just needed to be near such a familiar and comforting figure. His world had been turned up-side-down; but Sirius made sense, and here he was so much better off than his own poor Godfather. He was over-come with emotion, it was too much.

"Harry," Sirius said gently, prying him off, "I'm fine, where'd you hear that?" He held his shoulders like he always did. Harry couldn't bare it, couldn't stop thinking of his own real Sirius, locked up so unjustly, suffering the hatred of the entire wizarding community, with nothing to do but await sentence...or even death. And he totally helpless to do anything about it.

Harry shook his head and fought back tears, "I don't know."

James walked over and ruffled his hair, "don't worry Harry, everything's fine." He smiled.

"Hey! Isn't that Lucius Malfoy's son?" exclaimed Sirius suddenly, letting go of Harry and reaching for his wand. Malfoy had been leaning against the fire-place, nursing bruised ribs, pointedly ignoring the emotional outburst that had just occurred. Before Harry could explain, or Draco could even bother himself to look up, there was a sharp knock at the door.

Automatically everyone's eyes turned warily in that direction. "Oh," said Lily after a second, "that'll be the others wont it?"

"Yeah," agreed James carefully. He shot a look at Malfoy, "I'll get it." He crossed the room and pulled open the door. "Hey," he greeted whoever it was, "you've come at...an interesting time."

Harry heard the door shut, and the next moment Remus Lupin walked into the room. He too looked better in this world; his robes weren't patched and frayed, his hair had no trace of grey and the bags under his eyes were far less alarming. Having friends must really change you, thought Harry.

Remus' reaction to Malfoy was pretty much the same as Sirius'. "Good Lord! Draco Malfoy?" he cried. As everyone else pretty much knew this fact he didn't get much of a response. He stood there unmoving until James came back into the room, where he tried again; "Draco Malfoy?" James shrugged helplessly and walked back to Lily and Sirius.

James was shortly followed by another character. Smaller, weaker. He stepped out of the shadows into the firelight.

Harry's stomach plummeted.

It was Peter Pettigrew.

***

A single event.

It felt like a kettle had started boiling in Harry's head. Pettigrew had his hands in his pockets, was looking quite confused, almost unnoticed by the rest of the group.

Harry saw him.

"What did you say Moony?" He was always pretty slow on the uptake. Hate was bubbling over in Harry's mind. Was it the same though? a reasonable part of Harry thought; everything was so different in this world, could it be he wasn't a traitor?

When Pettigrew saw Draco though, all doubt was wiped from Harry's mind. One Death Eater to another. All colour drained from Pettigrew's face, he looked physically sick, probably wondering what on Earth Lucius' son was doing there.

A single event.

"Traitor," whispered Harry, it was all he could manage.

"Harry's right Mrs P," cried Parvati eagerly, thinking he meant Draco, "he just arrived here and started making all these demands like he never ratted the school out or any-"

"Traitor," Harry hissed and snatched for his wand, pointing it straight at Pettigrew's chest. The room went deathly still.

"Harry James Potter, what" said his father carefully, "do you think you're doing?"

"Harry," Pettigrew's eyes slid swiftly from him to Draco Malfoy, "it's just me - Peter-"

"SHUT UP!" Harry's hand was shaking. Wormtail looked almost like he did at the Shrieking Shake; sick, but he wasn't quite terrified enough. Not yet. "You don't get to speak in my house, don't even - don't even think about it, you - you-"

"I don't know what you're talking about Harry-"

"Stop saying my name! Stop it!"

A single event.

It hit him. The trigger last night - who had Harry been blaming for Sirius' predicament, why had his Godfather spent over a decade in prison, why had Voldemort returned to power, killed Cedric? Wormtail.

Why had Harry ended up in this particular world?

He started laughing. Quietly at first, then louder, gasping for breath. Tears fell down his face - he choked back a sob.

"Change," he rasped, "change - you changed back, didn't you?" He looked at Sirius, a frightened, confused expression was on his face. "Fifteen years ago, Voldemort was after my parents, you all knew it." They winced at Harry's use of the word Voldemort. "Everything was the same until then, but then...you - you had a Secret Keeper," he stated to his parents.

"Who told you about this Harry?" his mother began, "it was years ago-"

"You had a Secret Keeper," he interrupted, "you - you wanted it to be Sirius," Harry struggled to find his words as his throat clamped, Pettigrew was standing there, looking confused as to where this was leading, "and here, in this world, you took on the task, didn't you Sirius? You never made the mistake, you never trusted him, but now everything's worse." Harry had tears running down his face, and this time he could feel them; he dragged his sleeve across his face so he could see. "He never found us and we lived, but everything's gone so wrong."

"Harry, it's okay," said Remus, always tactful, always helpful, "that was a long time ago, we pulled through it - you're right, you lived-"

"I'm supposed to live, it's them," he whispered, "it's them. He killed them, oh God he killed them..." Harry's eyes, though blurred, were still fixed on Wormtail, so the others were left to wonder who he meant by 'them'. "A single event, a single decision - and look what happened...Everything was the same, then you chose Sirius, not him..." Harry gasped in breath and felt faint, week in the knees, but kept standing.

Pettigrew seemed to think now was the time to try and cover himself. "So what've I done Harry, why are you yelling at-"

"Because if Sirius had switched and made you Secret Keeper instead you would have HANDED US TO VOLDEMORT! "

Silence. Utter silence.

"Oh God," whispered Parvati.

As if edging away from spilled acid, the rest of the group expanded slightly away from Pettigrew, and from Harry too. They looked unsure why, but they did it. The silence seemed almost tangible. Harry heard Hermione quietly by his side; "that's it, that's what's different here, isn't it?" Harry jerked a nod, not taking his eyes off Pettigrew.

Pettigrew trembled slightly. "Harry, what are you talking about?" There were beads of sweat on his lip. "I would never - I mean, I don't - James, you don't think - do you?"

Harry's father looked from the shaking figure beside him, framed by the arch-way to the hallway, to his son, still holding his wand out threateningly, his breath shuddering. "Why would you say that Harry?"

"Because it's true," Harry managed.

"His head! He banged his head!" gasped Wormtail, "he's not talking straight, he's not himself!"

Sirius stared at his godson. "He looks alright to me," he said slowly, "except for the fact he's right royally pissed."

"He's crazy! He's lying!"

"You're lying! " screamed Harry. He wasn't going to get away again, not again...

Lily was looking shocked, "Harry, what are you saying-"

"I'm saying he's a back-stabbing traitor! "

"No! It's not true-"

"Um, excuse me?"

Harry didn't look, but Hermione had been chewing her index finger. Now she looked thoughtful and determined; what Harry and Ron referred to as 'that Polyjuice look'. "Why don't you just ask Malfoy?" she said.

"What? Why!" shrieked Pettigrew. "He's concussed, I tell you! He just banged-"

"Shut up!" snapped Hermione, outraged, "Harry did not bang his head."

"Yeah," said Seamus slowly, "Malfoy's all buddy buddy with the Death Eaters after all," he added, "why don't you ask him?"

"Ask me what?" said Draco, petulant, and bit one of his dirty fingernails.

"Is this man a Death Eater?" asked Remus quietly, looking towards the young Slytherin. "Is what Harry says true, is he a spy?"

"Remus, how can you suggest - even ask - it's lies-"

"Peter," cried Remus, silencing him with a hand, a pained expression on his face. "Let the boy talk, for pity's sake." Harry saw he purposely avoided making eye contact with Pettigrew.

"A Death Eater?" repeated Draco to Remus with a hint of false bravado, "why the Hell would I know?"

"Don't play games, boy," growled Sirius, "everyone knows what your family are." He had a dangerous air about him; Harry could feel it, he'd felt it before, but always thought it was the effect of Azkaban. Apparently not.

Draco's head dropped, hurt and a little uneasy, he swallowed and muttered something like "were."

Pettigrew was ringing his hands muttering things like "James-I would never, believe me-" Draco's eyes slid in his direction, and bit his lower lip.

A moment of silence.

"Yeah," said Draco, suddenly, looking at the floor, "he's a Death Eater, we call him Wormtail."

Sirius took a sharp look at his friend, stepped back again and aimed his wand at Pettigrew; Lupin did likewise.

"It can't be true," cried Lily, "James, that's Malfoy's son - we can't trust him, he's a Death Eater-"

"Yeah, which is precisely how I know he's one too." He pushed himself off the fireplace and spread his hands in agitation. "How do you think we found Arabella Figg, the Macmillans?"

"Boy," hissed Pettigrew, "what are you doing? "

"You're pathetic," sniped Draco.

But Harry couldn't help but feel that Malfoy wasn't exactly sitting comfortably with what he'd just done, though he let the moment pass.

"James-no-" spluttered Pettigrew, "he's lying, I wouldn't-"

"Then why are you so scared Peter?" came Remus' controlled response, "why are you shaking?"

"I - Remus," he whispered, "don't, please..."

"Don't what Peter, what do you have to hide from us?" Lupin's voice was one Harry recognised; he'd used it the last time he confronted his former friend in Hogsmeade. Harry hoped he never used it on him. "Tell us the truth Peter."

"The truth? I-"

"Tell them Pettigrew," Harry's voice was like stone.

He took a step back. "Remus, James - I...I had no choice," Pettigrew was visibly shaking, tears glazing his eyes. "I - I mean, I couldn't, he would have killed me-"

"Then you should have died," exploded James, his own wand out with the revelation. "How dare you!" The whisky had fallen to the ground, and his shoes crunched on the glass as he advanced on Pettigrew. "All my life, I've welcomed you into my house, stood up for you at school, treated you like family - we all have - and this is how you repay us? Lying, cheating, spying? "

James was joined by Sirius and Remus as they backed Wormtail under the arch-way into the hallway. "Please," he was whimpering, "please, I'm sorry, so sorry..."

"No you're not," stated Lily softly, as she too pulled out her wand. "How long Peter, who else did you betray? The Woods, the Diggorys?"

"Lily - I didn't mean..."

"Oh, you didn't mean to?! It was an accident was it?" She was overcome with fury. "It's not some game Peter...you've killed people, real people who aren't coming back, and now guess what? It seems we've stood by and let it happen."

"It's not you're fault Lily," said Remus, but she wasn't listening.

"By the powers invested in me as an Aurora to the Ministry," spoke Sirius in an anguished voice, "I hereby place you under arrest for crimes against the government. You have the right to remain silent and the right to a representative in a court of law if you so choose..."

Pettigrew was a pitiful sight, crying and shaking as they backed him into the wall. Seamus and Parvati were standing behind Harry, stunned. Hermione sat on the couch, Draco was back to leaning on the fireplace, arms folded and protective.

Harry regarded the situation numbly - like everything since his arrival, it didn't seem real, but it was real enough for these people. But in a way, real enough for him too. This was still a Pettigrew who had betrayed his friends, his Ministry, and caused God knows how many deaths. It was still justice.

Harry sat down with Hermione. She went to take his hand, but though better of it. Too shy or just respectful? Harry didn't know, and to be honest, he was getting tired of trying to figure out this world. In his world, she wouldn't have hesitated.

Remus had conjured government issue handcuffs as Pettigrew took another step back. Would he go to Azkaban? Harry wondered. He deserves it, he thought.

Then...

"What's going on in here?" Sarah emerged from the study door. Behind Pettigrew.

Seizing his opportunity, he spun round and grabbed the little girl by the throat. "Don't move!" he yelled, thrusting his other hand into his robes. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her chest. "I mean it!"

"Back off, everyone!" cried Lily, whilst James yelled for all wands down, panic in his voice.

"Mum-? " whispered Sarah, her eyes wide with confusion and fright.

"It's okay baby, it's okay." But Pettigrew moved away from them to the other side of the hall.

Harry darted to his father's side; he could see Pettigrew's wild state. "James, Lily, I - I'm so sorry," he was desperate, his eyes kept flicking from the windows to the door to the rest of the group under the arch-way. "You don't understand - he's everywhere, there's no escape-"

"Peter, just let her go," said their father as he watched Pettigrew drag the little girl another couple of inches away, "we'll work something out-"

"No! " he cried, "there is no working out. I've failed him, and if I don't redeem myself he'll kill me. With pain."

"Uh oh," came Draco's voice behind them.

"Mum-"

"Good-bye James."

And then they disappeared.