Shifting Realities

Author Notes: /.../ = thoughts

Chapter 6: Crossed the Last Line

It doesn't mean much
It doesn't mean anything at all
The life I've left behind me
Is a cold room

I've crossed the last line
From where I can't return
Where every step I took in faith
Betrayed me
And led me from my home

- "Sweet Surrender," Sarah McLachlan

Harry had his head stuck inside the fridge, searching for the loaf of bread that he knew had to be in there somewhere, when Malfoy walked into the kitchen. "You're not going to find any bread in there, Evans, if that's what you're looking for. I ate the last piece earlier."

Turning to glare at the other man, Harry rolled his eyes. "Well that's just great. What am I supposed to eat for breakfast if I can't have toast?"

"Good question. We seem to be running low on or out of just about everything. I guess I'll have to go to town today and get some groceries." Leaning against the counter, Malfoy grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil from the small table that stood in a corner of the kitchen. He started scribbling things down on the pad. "Let's see. We need bread, eggs... Have we got any milk?"

"Go to town?" Harry blinked in surprise.

"Well, yes. You didn't think the food just appeared in the fridge and the cabinets, did you? I walk over to the nearby Muggle town and pick up things. What's the milk situation?"

Pulling out the carton, Harry opened the spout and peered inside. "It looks like there's enough for today, and that's about it." He gave the carton a cautious sniff and pulled a face. "Smells a little off too."

"Milk as well, then - you'd better toss that one while you've got it out. What were you planning for dinner, Evans?" After some experimentation over the course of September, they'd discovered that Harry was the better cook, and so Malfoy had been delegated to clean-up duty.

"I was thinking spaghetti, so put down noodles and tomato paste, too." Straightening, Harry closed the door of the fridge and walked up to Malfoy, looking over his shoulder at the list that had been composed. "I think that's about it. Say, could I come with you when you go to town? I'd like to get out of the house."

Malfoy laughed and cocked his head to the side. "What, are you actually volunteering to spend some time with me? That's amazing; most of the time you act like I'm carrying the plague or something."

"I'm not going to spend time with you, I'm going to find out how to get to town in case I want to go by myself sometime," Harry ground out, glaring even harder than he had earlier. Pointedly ignoring Malfoy, he opened up a cupboard and pulled out a box of instant porridge. It wasn't great, but it would be better than a breakfast of nothing.

---

Later in the day, Harry was lying on his bed rereading 'Three Men in a Boat', when Malfoy stuck his head in through the door. Carefully setting his book to the side, Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position. "What's up?"

"I'm leaving now - you ready, Evans?"

Nodding his head, Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed, shoving his feet into his trainers before following Malfoy out of the house. They paused for a moment so Malfoy could lock the door, then started down the path. Harry kept his mouth shut as they walked, having decided that he would best be able to get through this if he just kept his attention focused on anything other than Malfoy.

For a time they walked in silence, then Malfoy spoke up. "So... have you always been such an avid reader?" Concentrating on a stand of trees in front of them and to the right, Harry shook his head. "Huh, strange. I thought-" Malfoy stopped, and shrugged. "When did this book obsession start, anyway?"

"Recently. Didn't have much of anything else to do over the past year," Harry said quietly, as he tried shifting his view to his feet. This proved to be a bad move on his part, since it gave him a good view of Malfoy's feet as well. He jerked his head away, turning his attention back to the trees. /Not going to think about it. Not going to think about it. Not going to think about how-/ Harry cut the thought off before it could develop any further. "And when your only friends consist of a librarian and the owner of a bookstore..."

Malfoy said nothing more for bit, and Harry decided that, from the way the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling, the blonde must be staring at him strangely. "Good Lord... you mean to say that what Remus said was true? That you only had two friends back in Surrey? But... surely you had some friends in school-"

"Either I don't remember them, or they don't remember me." Harry shrugged, "It doesn't really matter anymore." They were up next to the trees now, so Harry instead concentrated on a large boulder that was occasionally visible between the trunks of the trees.

"But- what about your family?"

Giving in to his baser instincts, Harry slowly turned his head towards Malfoy. He didn't need to say anything; the glare he fixed on his face was more than enough to keep Malfoy from trying to coax him into talking. Turning his attention back to the boulder, Harry turned over what Malfoy had just said. /He doesn't believe the whole idea of my being from a parallel world. Hell, why should he? Half the time I don't believe it myself!/

The rest of the walk to town continued in relative silence, with Malfoy making no more attempts at conversation.

When they reached the town, Malfoy made a beeline for the local grocery store. However, when they reached the doors, Harry held back. Malfoy gave him a confused look. "Well, come on."

Harry sighed, and rolled his eyes. "I should hope you don't need help picking up groceries, Malfoy. I'm not going in with you, I have some errands of my own that I need to get done," he added, as if in explanation.

"Fine, be a git then," Malfoy growled, passing through the doors, hardly noticing as they opened before him automatically. This threw Harry off for a moment; he remembered the one time when he and Hermione had taken Ron to a Muggle store. Ron had kept on jumping back in shock whenever confronted by a new Muggle device such as the automatic doors. After a moment, however, Harry decided that Malfoy would have to be used to such things if he had indeed been doing the shopping up until now.

Shrugging off Malfoy's behavior as unimportant, Harry walked over to the post office and bought a sheet of stamps. He'd remembered to get paper and envelopes before leaving Surrey, but had forgotten stamps. It would be quite difficult to keep his promise to Alice and Mrs. Whelton to write and keep them posted on how he was doing if he didn't have any stamps, he decided. Something told him that, no matter how wacky and generally weird Mrs. Whelton might be, she would not take well to receiving a letter by owl post.

Digging into his pocket, Harry retrieved the rather beat-up envelope that he had stuffed in there earlier in that day. He'd written the letter itself a few days ago when he'd had nothing better to do, and after hearing about going to town from Malfoy that morning, he'd gone to the trouble of actually finding an envelope and addressing it. Separating a stamp from the sheet, he licked the back and, still grimacing at the horrid taste of the glue, stuck it in the corner of the envelope, then shoved the whole thing into the waiting box.

Having completed the only truly pressing errands that he had assigned himself, Harry left the post office and went off in search of something much more interesting: a library. He had, unfortunately, already read all of the books that he'd brought with him, some of them multiple times. This, he decided, was yet another unfortunate side affect of trying hard to ignore Malfoy twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

After asking a few different people for directions, Harry eventually found himself in front of the library. Pushing the door open cautiously, he poked his head in and inhaled the dusty, cool scent that all libraries seemed to possess. Slipping between the heavy doors, he wandered over to the fiction section, eyes bright in anticipation of what he might find there.

---

Harry was sitting on the floor, cross-legged and leafing through a copy of 'To Say Nothing of the Dog', when a shadow fell across the pages of the book in his lap. He tilted his head backwards in order to better glare at the person blocking his light. Unfortunately, he was caught slightly off guard and ended up leaning back more than he'd originally intended. Falling backwards, Harry hit his head against the thickly-carpeted floor.

Standing next to Harry's poor abused head, Malfoy gave a short laugh, smirking with amusement. "I figured you would be here. I knew it would have to be either a library or a bookshop."

Gathering together his dignity, Harry glared up at Malfoy from where he lay on the floor. Placing the book he was holding to the side, Harry attempted to sit up. This proved to be a useless struggle on his part against that vindictive force of nature, gravity.

Still stifling laughter, Malfoy shifted a grocery bag from one hand to the other before crouching down and offering Harry his just-freed hand. Harry stared at the hand for a moment, then grabbed a shelf on the bookcase next to him and, scooping up the book he had been reading, drew himself up. Now that he was in a sitting position, Harry found it much easier to stand up, and proceeded to do so, pointedly ignoring Malfoy the entire time. /He probably thinks I'm a regular riot, managing to fall down when I'm not even standing up. Most likely laughing himself silly inside./ Harry reached over and gathered together the stack of books that he'd placed on the bookcase earlier, before he'd sat down to look at the fascinating book that he'd found. Books in hand, Harry strode purposefully over to the Circulation desk. A curious Malfoy followed him along.

"What are you doing?" asked Malfoy.

Sighing, Harry rolled his eyes as he joined two other people in line to check out. "I want to check these books out. I filled out the papers and got a card when I first came in, so now I can check them out. I've already read most of the books I brought with me at least twice, and I want something new." Pulling out the library card he'd received from the Information desk earlier, Harry showed it to Malfoy.

"The library lets you take books home?" Malfoy asked in awe. "Just because you have that little card? How do they know you won't steal the books?"

Harry blinked in surprise. He hadn't thought that Malfoy would be so impressed by something as simple as a library card. "When I filled out the papers for the card, I had to put down an address. I used Remus' address since I'm going to be staying there for an indefinite amount of time. If I don't return a book by the required date, I'll be fined the next time I come in. Also, if I still haven't returned the book after a certain amount of time - I'm not sure how long it is for this library - they'll send a letter telling me about it. If I still don't return the book or pay for a replacement copy, I won't be allowed to check out any more books. Sometimes people do steal books, but usually they don't, since they want to check out more books."

The people ahead of Harry had been helped while he was busy explaining the workings of the Muggle library system to Malfoy, and it was now his turn. Harry walked up to the counter, put down his stack of books, and sliding his card over to the librarian. She smiled at him, scanned the card, and then proceeded to scan the barcodes on the backs of all the books. After stamping the return date on the back of each book, she handed them over, reminding him that they would all be due in three weeks.

As the two young men walked away from the counter, heading towards the door, Malfoy was respectfully silent. Sadly, this ended as soon as they were out the door of the library, however. "What was she doing with that light pen and those little lines on the books, Evans?"

"The pen was a barcode scanner, and the 'little lines' are barcodes. Each book has a different barcode, and the librarian is able to scan the codes in order to tell the computer which books are being checked out. Library cards have barcodes too, which can be scanned in order to tell the computer who is checking out what."

"Wicked. We never learned about 'barcodes' in Muggle Studies. Professor Knight didn't even tell us that Muggles could take library books home." Swinging his bags back and forth, Malfoy began to whistle as he walked.

Harry, however, remained standing still, frozen with shock. "Muggle... Studies? Since when did you ever take Muggle Studies, Malfoy?"

The whistling stopped, and so did Malfoy, who turned around to look at Harry. "Third year through seventh. It seemed like a good idea at the time, since Muggles do make up most of the world's human population."

"But - but you're Malfoy!"

"And is there a book somewhere that says I can't take Muggle Studies or be interested in Muggle culture? That seems awfully crass to me." He shrugged, then walked back to Harry and placed a finger under Harry's chin, "You might want to shut your mouth, by the way. You're liable to let in flies if you keep it open like that." He pushed Harry's slack jaw up to shut his mouth and smiled.

Clenching his teeth together, Harry knocked away Malfoy's hand. "Don't touch me, Malfoy." Clutching his books to his chest protectively, Harry began walking at a fast pace. Unfortunately, he managed to walk straight into an old man who had been standing in front of the supermarket. "Oh. I'm so sorry, sir," said Harry politely, backing away.

"It's all right, son. By the way, boy, are you prepared?!" The old man flung his arms outward, almost hitting a young woman who was walking into the store. Froth specked the corners of the man's mouth and his eyes sparkled with a crazy light.

"Excuse me, prepared?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Prepared for the final battle that is sure to come some day soon! Or are you like the rest of them, content with being picked off one at a time by their assassins?"

"...assassins...?" Harry was beginning to get a sick feeling in his stomach. /"The final battle that is sure to come... picked off one at a time by their assassins." Is he talking about Voldemort and the Death Eaters? Has it come so far that even Muggles are aware of the war in the wizarding world?/ Right when Harry was about to ask about this, Malfoy strode up and slowly dragged the shocked Harry away from the man.

"No need to worry, sir. Evans here is perfectly aware and ready for the threat," Malfoy reassured the man.

"Right then, should have known he was with you, Malfoy. Always knew I could count on you to be prepared," the old man nodded absentmindedly, then turned his sharp gaze back to Harry. "Don't ever let them catch you off guard, boy. Remember, the sheep only look dumb and innocent. You and I both know that they're really out to kill off the human race and take over the world." With that, he strode off to find another victim.

"...sheep? What does he mean, sheep?!" cried Harry, exasperated.

Patting Harry's shoulder, Malfoy smirked. "It's all right, Evans. He's been going on about how the sheep are out to take over the world for several years now, according to Remus. Apparently he even has a list somewhere of all the different times that sheep have somehow managed to kill people - the 'killer sheep list'. It's better to just smile and nod if he starts talking to you."

Jerking away from Malfoy's hand, Harry glared at the Slytherin. "No touching."

"Okay, okay! Sorry, I guess I forgot." Malfoy shrugged, and fell into step next to Harry as they went down the road, both walking in silence.

---

Sealing the top on the pressure cooker, Harry turned on the burner underneath it, then moved over to reach up into the cupboards. Remus had told him before he'd left that the household appliances actually ran on magic, not electricity or gas as it might appear. Harry thought it was fascinating how wizards had many of the same conveniences as Muggles, though slightly modified. He pulled a container of sage out of the cupboard and was about to add it to a pan on the stove, when, turning, he walked straight into Malfoy.

"Watch it, Evans," he snapped, taking a step backwards and leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. Moving over to the stove now that the way was clear, Harry gave Malfoy a strange look.

"What do you want, Malfoy? I'm kind of busy right now, in case you hadn't noticed." Placing the sage on the counter, Harry lowered the heat under the pan on the stove. "And if you distract me and I end up burning something... Well, it's your dinner too."

"Hostile much, Evans?" Smirking, Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything."

Harry paused a moment, looking Malfoy up and down. He wasn't sure whether he was thrown off more by Malfoy's presence or by the offer of help. Ever since the trip to town the month before and his aborted attempt to get Harry to talk about his friends and family, Malfoy had pretty much acquiesced to Harry's unspoken plea to be left alone, so he found it strange that Malfoy had chosen now to try again. And the offer of help - hell, the very idea of Malfoy volunteering of his own free will to help make dinner... that bit was certainly unexpected! /Of course,/ Harry reminded himself, /this is the same Malfoy that goes grocery shopping.../ Having come to a conclusion, Harry decided that it would be relatively safe to trust Malfoy with an easy task. "Do you think you could make a fruit salad? All you have to do is cut up the fruit."

Malfoy shrugged and nodded, moving over to the fruit bowl to pick out the fruit that looked best - not that there was often a need to worry about fruit going bad, considering the preserving charm on the bowl. Selecting an apple, an orange, and a handful of grapes, Malfoy proceeded to wash off the apple and grapes in the sink. "I read one of those Muggle books you're at all the time, you know," he suddenly announced to the prevailing silence of the kitchen.

In the process of turning off the heat beneath the pressure cooker, Harry paused. "Really? Which one did you read? I have a lot of 'Muggle books' around."

"The one with all the stuff about the Muggle Underground... where the man wakes up one morning and no one remembers him." Having pulled out the cutting board, Malfoy began slicing up the apple, taking care to remove the core as he worked. He paused and asked cautiously, "I... Was that what it was like for you? Waking up one day and not having any of the people you used to know remember you?"

Pulling the saucepan off the stove, Harry poked Malfoy in the ribs. "Get a bowl out for me, will you?" A flick of a wand and a short phrase later, a bowl was hovering in front of Harry, and he poured the meat from the pan into the bowl. The bowl then proceeded to float past him and into the dining room, where it landed gracefully on the table. "Show off," Harry grumbled, leaving the hot pan on the stove and picking up the pressure cooker. He walked over to the sink and set the cooker down inside of it. "Yes, it was kind of like that, though a bit different," Harry said quietly in answer to Malfoy's question. "I mean, my relatives remembered me, but that was it. None of the important people did. No one who really mattered." He opened the tap and watched the cold water hit the lid of the cooker and turn to steam.

Laughing a little nervously, Malfoy nodded, barely noticing as the fruit he'd cut up waddled across the cutting board and jumped into a bowl that he'd got down earlier. "Can I ask you something else?"

The pressure released on the cooker, and Harry opened it, inspecting the broccoli inside. "I don't see why not. I can't guarantee that I'll answer, though." He looked around for someplace to put the broccoli, and nearly jumped when a bowl nudged against his ribs. He grinned at Malfoy, "Thanks."

Putting down his knife, Malfoy studied Harry. "You should do that more often."

"What, agree to answer your questions, or thank you?"

"Well, the thanking part was nice, but no. I meant the smiling part. Strangely enough, you don't look half-bad when you smile." He ducked the playful blow that came from Harry. "Anyway, I was wondering... Is the Underground really like the way the book describes it?"

"What, with all those strange names? Yeah, I never understood what they were named after either," said Harry as he opened up a drawer and rummaged around for knives and forks.

"No, with the rats and markets and birds and strange people-" Malfoy began, breaking off as Harry slumped against the counter, laughing so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks. "What? What did I say?"

"All right, Malfoy, you get the plates, and I'll explain the concept of 'fiction' to you while we eat..."

---

Outside it was raining - typical autumn weather in this area - while inside both men were sitting in the lounge, reading. It was relatively quiet, except for the occasional turn of a page, or a crackle from the fire in the big fireplace that dominated the room. After getting Malfoy to admit that he hadn't understood a lot of what had happened in the book he'd grabbed randomly from Harry's bookshelf, Harry had begun to set aside books that he felt Malfoy would understand better - that is, books that went so far into the fantasy genre that they rarely had any sort Muggle technology appear in them. This didn't mean that there wasn't the occasional question about what was occurring in a book-

"Evans..."

- like now. Harry sighed, and proceeded to uncurl from the ball he'd made of himself in the armchair, padding over to the couch to see what Malfoy was having a problem with this time. "What it is this time?"

Tilting his head backwards so that his grey eyes peered up innocently at Harry, Malfoy gestured to the book. "Why should it matter if Jesse fell in one of the craters? And what are 'offworlders'?"

Rubbing his temples, Harry groaned. /I'd forgotten that 'Dreamsnake' was an afterstory, not a fantasy book. Oops, too late now.../ "The craters are impact craters from a nuclear war. There are... bad diseases in the craters that can cause cell breakdown and stuff like that. The 'offworlders' are people that live on other planets. They left the earth long before the nuclear war, colonizing other planets."

"So this book takes place after a 'nuclear war'?" Exasperated by Harry's nod of ascent, Malfoy threw out his arms, "Why didn't you give me the first book then? I would understand the sequel a lot better if I was able to read about what happened in the nuclear war first!"

"Malfoy, this is the first book. It's called an 'afterstory' because it takes place after a nuclear war. It's a common enough theme in Muggle science fiction that most people understand what's going on. If you're too confused by that one, I'll give you a different book to read - I only gave you that one because you always like potions so much, and I thought you'd like how Snake uses her serpents to make medicines," Harry said, reaching for the book in Malfoy's lap.

Batting Harry's hand away, Malfoy glared up at green-eyed man. "No, no - it's all right. You're right though, the thing with changing the venom is very interesting - like the idea of using a little bit of venom to concoct a cure for a snakebite. And it's neat that it's all about snakes." He smirked at Harry. "Some Gryffindor you are, having a book that's all about snakes."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not a Gryffindor here, Malfoy, so don't you try to make me feel guilty about that book. And even if I were still a Gryffindor, what's wrong with being interested in snakes? I remember there were these two Ravenclaws a few years below me, and they were both wild about snakes." Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Though, come to think of it, they were also ranting on about world domination a lot of the time..."

Malfoy snickered, "Oh, I think I know who you're talking about! They kept on trying to sneak into Slytherin after that idiot Pritchard made the mistake of letting it slip that he had a pet mountain king snake. They almost made it one time, except Professor Snape caught them before they could get any farther than the common room."

"I remember hearing about that from Dennis Creevey! How did they manage to get into the Slytherin common room in the first place?" Harry asked, excited that he was at last able to talk about all the various strange happenings at Hogwarts with someone, even if that someone was Malfoy.

"Well, from what I heard, it involved a ball, a large carving knife, and this long flower chain that they'd made..."

---

Next chapter: comfort foods; a Quidditch Scene; Christmas: the sequel.