Hogwarts Express | By : Closet Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 27084 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Track Change
Hogwarts Interdimensional Express - Station
Harry and Draco stumbled onto the bare, wooden train platform, which floated in the
middle of a sea of absolute nothingness. There was no sky, no ground, nothing. Everything
beyond the long, narrow platform on which they stood and the silver train tracks with their
wooden ties buried in nothing was just white. Pure, white, nothingness.
“Where are we?” Harry asked warily, fingers unwittingly tangled in the front of Draco’s
jumper.
“On a train platform,” Draco said, slightly awed sounding. “Well, you were right. There
really is a train. I wonder if this is what’s in between regular Apparation stages...?”
There was a whistle, far off, the sound of a train approaching, then a fierce wind that
made them both wince, Draco’s hand flying up to protect his eyes, and Harry’s head ducking
down to bury his face in the taller boy’s sweater. When the wind died as abruptly as it had
started, both slowly looked up, to discover that there was a scarlet steamer train - identical to the
Hogwart’s Express they had taken to school together that fall - sitting there in the station in front
of them, steam lazily curling from the stacks, and around the sleek scarlet sides. There was a
slight hissing sound, and the door before them opened, though not outwards like it normally did,
but sliding sideways, into the train.
A pleasant, though slightly muffled, female voice intoned, “Welcome to the Hogwarts
Interdimensional Express, now departing station. Next stop, track Tau Lambda Beta. Please mind
the gap.”
Harry gaped at the train. “It’s like the tube!” he yelped.
“The what?” Draco asked, confused.
“The tube. Muggle transportation - like a train in a tunnel, I guess. Some people call it the
Underground. They always say that - mind the gap.”
Draco just regarded the boy - still in his arms - with an arched eyebrow and not a small
smidgen of disdain. “Muggles are incredibly bizarre.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” Harry frowned, focused on the train still. “Do you suppose we should
get on it?”
“I suppose so,” Draco drawled, releasing Harry, then gently tugging on the other’s hands
to encourage him to release the wool of his jumper. “Harry, I realize that I am irresistible, but can
you manage to tear yourself off me long enough to get on the train?”
“Huh?” Harry blinked, tearing his eyes off the train to look at Draco, then down, to where
he still gripped the fabric. “Oh!” He yelped, yanking his hands back, ears red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t
realize...”
“As I said, I already knew that you just couldn’t help yourself,” Draco smirked, then,
laying a hand on Harry’s arm, half dragged him towards the train. “Mind the gap, now.”
“Prat,” Harry muttered, stepping over the small gap and onto the train, the door sliding
shut with a hiss the second he was through it. A moment later, the train began to move, until it
seemed to be settled into the normal, Hogwarts Express pace, though the station was already long
gone by the time it had.
The inside of the train was not set up like the regular Express, but it instead seemed to be
like the Muggle Underground, with benches that lined the sides of the large train car, shiny metal
poles above their heads and spaced at handy distances for holding onto, should the train ever be
full, though it seemed so eerily quiet that Harry had no idea whether that even could happen. Old,
slightly faded advertisements lined the edges of the ceiling, their charms growing old and weak,
so that every once in awhile, in a tired manner, another ancient slogan for “Bernie Bott’s”, or
“Mellenamore’s Flying Carpets” would scroll across the banners. On a longish piece of yellowed
parchment, right above the door on the opposite side of the train, faded black ink read, in
scrolling letters, “Welcome to the Hogwarts Interdimensional Express.” Then below that, was an
arrow pointing to a gold button, and the word “map” surrounded by little stars.
Draco had settled himself on one of the seats near the door, arms and legs crossed,
looking quite casual and comfortable, but Harry made his way to this strange gold button, which,
after a moment’s hesitation, he pushed.
Instantly, a parchment piece scrolled out from under the other, larger one, on which there
was a highly complicated looking network of black lines going in every which direction and
intersecting here, there, and everywhere. The only difference was, there were little glowing lights
everywhere, most of them green, but a few here and there were red. Frowning, Harry looked
around for some kind of legend, to tell him what colour meant what, but found instead a little
square in the corner that read “Touch map to ask questions.”
“Does this make any sense to you?” Harry asked, turning to look at the casually reclining
blond.
Slowly, as though it were a great inconvenience, Draco stood, and sauntered over to look
at the map for a moment. “Isn’t it obvious?” He drawled. “You touch the map when you ask a
question. It’ll answer.”
Harry frowned, but decided to try Draco’s theory of things anyways. Touching his right
hand’s fingertips to the parchment lightly, he paused for a moment, then asked, “What do the
colours of the lights mean?”
As though someone was standing beside him, listening, that slightly muffled female voice
from the station spoke up. “Red lights signify stops that you have made. Green lights signify
stations at which you have not stopped.”
“Now,” Draco drawled lazily. “Doesn’t that make sense now, Harry?”
“Yeah, it does.” Harry paused for a minute more, then asked softly, “Does Draconius use
this train?”
“There have been two Draconius’ on this train in its time, and one is currently in your
company.” The voice answered crisply. It was a pleasant enough voice, Harry decided, but it still
reminded him an awful lot of Professor McGonagall.
“Does... does the other Draconius come on this train a lot?”
“Regularly, yes.”
“Which of the stops on the map has that Draconius been to?”
“They are marked in yellow,” she said, and just as Harry was about to point out to her that
there were no yellow dots on the map, Draco’s hand found Harry’s shoulder, and squeezed very
tightly, as Draco pointed towards the map.
At least half of the thousand some dots marked were now glowing yellow.
Jaw hanging, Harry could only gape for a moment, then pushed, “And each one of these
lights is a different world?”
“A different possibility, yes.”
Draco frowned, and reached forward to press his own fingertips on the map. “Explain, if
you will?”
“Every single one of the lights on this map represent a different possibility, a different
choice made. For every major choice that happens in your world, a different possibility emerges.
For this reason, there is never any secure way to determine exactly how many different
possibilities there are to explore. This train is connected to all tracks.”
“What...” Harry paused, considering. “Why are there so many possibilities?”
“In 1943, an event of such cataclysmic proportions occurred that the magic of Hogwarts
itself attempted to rectify the situation, using the same basic principles of a time turner. However,
the situation was not rectified; instead, the spell created an unexpected new possibility. With the
assistance of Transfiguration professor Dumbledore and Headmaster Dippet, Hogwarts was able
to contain the possibility created, in a new world. The Hogwarts Interdimensional Express was
created as a method of reaching the other possibility. However, what the Headmaster and
Hogwarts itself were unable to predict was the continual creation of new possibilities.”
“So you mean Dumbledore doesn’t know there is more than one possibility?” Harry gaped
at the map, then turned to look at Draco, who looked as confused and surprised as he did.
“In all likelihood.”
“What spawned this?” Draco asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What made
Hogwarts attempt to fix something like that?”
“In the spring of 1943, during his fifth year attending Hogwarts, Tom Riddle opened the
Chamber of Secrets.”
Harry took a startled step back, his back making solid contact with one of the metal poles
in the middle of the floor. His eyes wide, he stared, unseeing, at the white nothingness whizzing
past the windows, hands gripping so tightly to the pole his knuckles were white.
Draco stared at him warily. He wasn’t sure what exactly would make Harry have this
extreme a reaction. After all, so someone found a way to open the Chamber of Secrets. Not such
a... wait... wasn’t the Heir of Slytherin the only one who could open the Chamber? And the Heir
was...
Draco sat down heavily, on one of the battered white plastic seats, eyes wide.
“The Dark Lord,” he murmured, blinking.
Harry nodded once, swallowing. “Voldemort.”
They remained in silence for a very long time, the only sound the soft sound of wind
passing the windows, and the steady muffled rhythm of the wheels of the train. The silence was
only broken otherwise by the sporadic blowing of the whistle, until suddenly Harry lurched
forward, startling Draco as he grabbed for the map, gripping the edges tightly. “Does that mean
there is a world out there where Tom Riddle did not open the Chamber of Secrets?”
“Yes,” the voice said calmly.
“A world without Voldemort?” Harry pressed.
“Several,” she answered. “Assuming, however, that you are referring to the original world
that spawned the rest of them, yes. There is no Voldemort in that world.”
Draco slowly stood, trying to catch Harry’s eye. Harry, however, could only gape at the
map, half disbelieving. Reaching forward himself, Draco touched the map lightly, and said softly,
“What track number is that world? That first one?”
“Track Omega,” the voice said calmly.
“And the other world? The one that started it all? The one where Riddle did open the
Chamber?”
“That is track Alpha.”
A sudden, sinking feeling sunk Draco’s stomach. “Which track are we from?”
“Track Alpha.”
Draco stepped back, taking his hands off the map. “Harry... we’re from the original
world. The one every other world is spun off of. Every major choice people make in our world
makes another world.”
“And Draconius knows how to get into this train, how to find specific tracks, and then to
manipulate the people within.” Harry closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath.
Reaching forward, he placed his fingers on the map again, and asked, “Can you tell us which was
the last place the other Draconius was? Not whichever one he’s in now, if he is, but which one he
last left?”
There was a moment of silence, then the voice answered, “He has left track Beta only a
short while ago.”
“Track Beta.” Harry nodded. “Is it possible... to go to track Beta?”
“Certainly,” the voice answered, and a moment later, the train screeched to a halt, nearly
throwing both of them from their seats. “Track Beta,” she said cheerfully, and the door slid open.
Instead of facing the absolute nothingness that continued to surround the rest of the train,
the door opened up onto what appeared to be a very cozy looking sitting room, with several
comfortable arm chairs, a fireplace with a cheerfully crackling fire, and stacks of books -
everywhere. When their eyes adjusted a little, they realized that sitting in the room, on the
excessively long sofa, were.... them. Well, their alternate selves. They were both reading, and
obviously didn’t notice the train.
Slowly, both boys picked themselves up off the bench and floor they had fallen to, and
stepped towards the door. Before they actually did, though, Draco grabbed Harry’s arm, holding
him back. “Are you sure we just want to run in there?”
Harry frowned, considering the fact that these two obviously couldn’t hear them, or the
train. “You’re right. We should wait and see what they’re going to do.”
“Then we’ll need a place to hide,” Draco pointed out, and apparently though their voices
didn’t spread beyond the train, their wishes did, because suddenly a huge, four poster, curtained
bed appeared behind the couch, directly between themselves and their alternate selves. It was the
perfect thing to hide behind.
“Hmm.” Harry frowned. “Must be the Room of Requirement. Well... ready?”
Draco frowned, looking into the room, then glanced back into the train, and the glowing
lights on the map. “Yes.”
They stepped out of the door, hearing it slid closed behind them, but not before they
heard, slightly more muffled than usual, the woman’s voice:
“Mind the gap!”
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