The Choice Within A Dream (Le Choix Dans Un Rêve)
Complete Summary: The muggles in the Harry Potter series did not receive their letters from Hogwarts because a very strict Headmaster, who does not accept muggles, runs the school. So Harry, Hermione and Dean Thomas don't know anything about magic or anything that is associated with it (including Ron). It's like Hogwarts never happened.
Harry lives a normal life, with both his parents and his two best friends, Hermione and Dean. But in a dream, Harry finds himself in a magical world where there is a boy named Ron, where he is famous for a lightning bolt scar but, a world wherein his parents are dead.
In the end, Harry Potter has to choose between living the life of a muggle, or living in the world of magic.
*Note* I'm putting French translations, because I want to. Hehehe. Hope you like this story, and if you're confused, or you hate it, or you like it =) .then just review and say so. Oh and the French translation is actually 'Together but not for always'. Just so you don't sue me. And I don't own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does, though.
+read, enjoy, review+
Chapter 6 - Together but not Forever (Ensemble mais pas pour toujours)
"I'm home!" Harry called cheerfully as he walked in the front door. The light in the kitchen was on, and dropping his bags on the floor, headed for the kitchen. He found his mom cooking dinner. "Hey, mum."
Lily Potter looked up at her son, a twinkle in her eyes. "Welcome back, Harry. We sorely missed you," she said reaching over and hugging him. Then she proceeded to kiss him on the forehead and cheek, a ritual she'd been doing ever since he was a baby.
Harry leaned back, and frowned at his mother. "Mum, I'm eighteen years, not eighteen months," he said, wondering what Hermione would think if she saw his mother kissing him like that. He wouldn't mind though if Hermione kissed him like that. She definitely wasn't his mother.
Lily shook her head. "My child is all grown up."
"Oh, mum, don't go all sappy on me now," Harry warned, opening the cupboard and taking out a glass. He poured himself some apple juice. "Where's dad?"
"He'll be home soon," she replied stirring the contents on the casserole.
Harry didn't say anything at first, neither did she. He wondered how he would tell his mom that he now had a girlfriend. She, of course, would hug him and kiss him that way again, and tell him it was about time that Hermione realize what a handsome boy Harry was.
He cleared his throat. "Erm," he began shifting in his stance, and putting down the glass on the counter. His mother was looking expectantly at him. He took a deep breath, "HermioneandIaretogethernow," he said in a rush.
His mother let a shriek, and just as Harry predicted, she threw her arms around Harry in a hug. Then she kissed him on the forehead, and leaning back to admire him, she said, "Well it's about time that two of you got together. Your father and I were seriously considering having to send both of you away for you to put two and two together!"
Harry blushed. He wasn't sure how his mother had understood the rush of words that left his mouth. He was apt to that whenever he was nervous.
She went back to her cooking, and began a monologue on how she recalled the way that Harry and Hermione would tease each other through the years. "Honestly, I think Dean caught on faster than you did," she said to Harry.
Harry shrugged. "Well Dean's a fast one."
"Didn't you tell me he plays soccer?" she asked taking out a jar of something from the cupboard. She popped the lid and began pouring the contents in a pan.
"Er, yeah," Harry answered running a hand through his hair. "His favorite team is West Ham and he's got their moves all memorized now."
"Hmm," his mother murmured absent-mindedly. Harry waited a few minutes, until her attention was back to him. She was definitely not through talking with him. "How was Paris?" she asked.
Harry knew she'd get to that sooner, than later. "It was okay."
Lily gave her son a searching look. "Where did you kiss her?"
Harry blushed, his hands on his pockets. He sure didn't feel comfortable talking to his mother about this girl he had kissed. He answered in reply though, "Atop the Eiffel Tower."
"Ooh, well isn't that romantic," she remarked, smiling. "You must have swept her off her feet with your irresistible charms," she added. Just then, they heard a car pull up and the engine dying off. "Good, just in time."
Within seconds, the front door opened and Harry heard his father call out to them. His mother quickly abandoned her cooking, and Harry saw to the task of turning off the stove before the food got burnt. Then he himself headed out to the foyer because he was sure his mother had already told the news.
"Well, well," Harold Potter began with a smile as Harry approached. "You little devil."
Harry shook his head. The teasing he would have to endure. He wondered if Hermione's parents were teasing her as well.
"I'd say Paris definitely is the city of romance," his father added.
"But I hope not more than that," his mother suddenly said. Both parents looked at Harry as though he did something wrong.
Harry held up his hands. He knew what his parents were thinking, and he said, "Nothing like that happened, all right." He felt uncomfortable having to undergo all this scrutiny from his parents, even if they were his parents.
"Good," his mother said nodding, as she headed back to the kitchen. "I did not raise my son without any morals or values." She disappeared into the kitchen, and moments later, they heard her setting up the table for dinner.
Harry felt his father approach, and prepared himself for that safety-don't- do-anything-you'll-regret-later speech. But what he said instead was different.
"I'm proud of you, son."
Harry grinned. "Thanks, dad. I'll never let you down."
His father chuckled softly. "Never is a pretty long time, even for you. Just as long as I live, and you live, you mean," he said and they both headed to the dining room. "Mmm, your mother sure is a great cook."
That night, Harry lay in bed, thinking of school tomorrow. He knew that even before he'd get there, people would be talking about him and Hermione. That they were together now. He didn't have to figure out who would spread the rumors, but he did wonder if it would be Dean or Mona. Whoever beat the loser, he decided.
Then his thoughts centered on Hermione. He didn't deny it now. He surely was in love, and it was the best feeling in the world. Having her close to him gave him a feeling of contentment and repose. She was the one who could calm him, and soothe him.
He wondered if she would be the one he would marry in the end. He knew he was too young to even be thinking about marriage. But it would one day come to him. He wanted to be with Hermione, forever.
'Never is a pretty long time.'
The words of his father echoed in his mind, and Harry sighed. He wanted to be with Hermione forever but he had to be content with being with for as long as they lived.
Together, but not for forever.
Harry sighed deeply, as he stared at the ceiling. What he was thinking of was still far off in the future. He decided, for now, he'd concentrate on the present.
He fell asleep thinking of her beautiful face.
Complete Summary: The muggles in the Harry Potter series did not receive their letters from Hogwarts because a very strict Headmaster, who does not accept muggles, runs the school. So Harry, Hermione and Dean Thomas don't know anything about magic or anything that is associated with it (including Ron). It's like Hogwarts never happened.
Harry lives a normal life, with both his parents and his two best friends, Hermione and Dean. But in a dream, Harry finds himself in a magical world where there is a boy named Ron, where he is famous for a lightning bolt scar but, a world wherein his parents are dead.
In the end, Harry Potter has to choose between living the life of a muggle, or living in the world of magic.
*Note* I'm putting French translations, because I want to. Hehehe. Hope you like this story, and if you're confused, or you hate it, or you like it =) .then just review and say so. Oh and the French translation is actually 'Together but not for always'. Just so you don't sue me. And I don't own Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does, though.
+read, enjoy, review+
Chapter 6 - Together but not Forever (Ensemble mais pas pour toujours)
"I'm home!" Harry called cheerfully as he walked in the front door. The light in the kitchen was on, and dropping his bags on the floor, headed for the kitchen. He found his mom cooking dinner. "Hey, mum."
Lily Potter looked up at her son, a twinkle in her eyes. "Welcome back, Harry. We sorely missed you," she said reaching over and hugging him. Then she proceeded to kiss him on the forehead and cheek, a ritual she'd been doing ever since he was a baby.
Harry leaned back, and frowned at his mother. "Mum, I'm eighteen years, not eighteen months," he said, wondering what Hermione would think if she saw his mother kissing him like that. He wouldn't mind though if Hermione kissed him like that. She definitely wasn't his mother.
Lily shook her head. "My child is all grown up."
"Oh, mum, don't go all sappy on me now," Harry warned, opening the cupboard and taking out a glass. He poured himself some apple juice. "Where's dad?"
"He'll be home soon," she replied stirring the contents on the casserole.
Harry didn't say anything at first, neither did she. He wondered how he would tell his mom that he now had a girlfriend. She, of course, would hug him and kiss him that way again, and tell him it was about time that Hermione realize what a handsome boy Harry was.
He cleared his throat. "Erm," he began shifting in his stance, and putting down the glass on the counter. His mother was looking expectantly at him. He took a deep breath, "HermioneandIaretogethernow," he said in a rush.
His mother let a shriek, and just as Harry predicted, she threw her arms around Harry in a hug. Then she kissed him on the forehead, and leaning back to admire him, she said, "Well it's about time that two of you got together. Your father and I were seriously considering having to send both of you away for you to put two and two together!"
Harry blushed. He wasn't sure how his mother had understood the rush of words that left his mouth. He was apt to that whenever he was nervous.
She went back to her cooking, and began a monologue on how she recalled the way that Harry and Hermione would tease each other through the years. "Honestly, I think Dean caught on faster than you did," she said to Harry.
Harry shrugged. "Well Dean's a fast one."
"Didn't you tell me he plays soccer?" she asked taking out a jar of something from the cupboard. She popped the lid and began pouring the contents in a pan.
"Er, yeah," Harry answered running a hand through his hair. "His favorite team is West Ham and he's got their moves all memorized now."
"Hmm," his mother murmured absent-mindedly. Harry waited a few minutes, until her attention was back to him. She was definitely not through talking with him. "How was Paris?" she asked.
Harry knew she'd get to that sooner, than later. "It was okay."
Lily gave her son a searching look. "Where did you kiss her?"
Harry blushed, his hands on his pockets. He sure didn't feel comfortable talking to his mother about this girl he had kissed. He answered in reply though, "Atop the Eiffel Tower."
"Ooh, well isn't that romantic," she remarked, smiling. "You must have swept her off her feet with your irresistible charms," she added. Just then, they heard a car pull up and the engine dying off. "Good, just in time."
Within seconds, the front door opened and Harry heard his father call out to them. His mother quickly abandoned her cooking, and Harry saw to the task of turning off the stove before the food got burnt. Then he himself headed out to the foyer because he was sure his mother had already told the news.
"Well, well," Harold Potter began with a smile as Harry approached. "You little devil."
Harry shook his head. The teasing he would have to endure. He wondered if Hermione's parents were teasing her as well.
"I'd say Paris definitely is the city of romance," his father added.
"But I hope not more than that," his mother suddenly said. Both parents looked at Harry as though he did something wrong.
Harry held up his hands. He knew what his parents were thinking, and he said, "Nothing like that happened, all right." He felt uncomfortable having to undergo all this scrutiny from his parents, even if they were his parents.
"Good," his mother said nodding, as she headed back to the kitchen. "I did not raise my son without any morals or values." She disappeared into the kitchen, and moments later, they heard her setting up the table for dinner.
Harry felt his father approach, and prepared himself for that safety-don't- do-anything-you'll-regret-later speech. But what he said instead was different.
"I'm proud of you, son."
Harry grinned. "Thanks, dad. I'll never let you down."
His father chuckled softly. "Never is a pretty long time, even for you. Just as long as I live, and you live, you mean," he said and they both headed to the dining room. "Mmm, your mother sure is a great cook."
That night, Harry lay in bed, thinking of school tomorrow. He knew that even before he'd get there, people would be talking about him and Hermione. That they were together now. He didn't have to figure out who would spread the rumors, but he did wonder if it would be Dean or Mona. Whoever beat the loser, he decided.
Then his thoughts centered on Hermione. He didn't deny it now. He surely was in love, and it was the best feeling in the world. Having her close to him gave him a feeling of contentment and repose. She was the one who could calm him, and soothe him.
He wondered if she would be the one he would marry in the end. He knew he was too young to even be thinking about marriage. But it would one day come to him. He wanted to be with Hermione, forever.
'Never is a pretty long time.'
The words of his father echoed in his mind, and Harry sighed. He wanted to be with Hermione forever but he had to be content with being with for as long as they lived.
Together, but not for forever.
Harry sighed deeply, as he stared at the ceiling. What he was thinking of was still far off in the future. He decided, for now, he'd concentrate on the present.
He fell asleep thinking of her beautiful face.