The Heart's Greatest Desire and the Forgotten Girl
Authoress - Eunjung Li
Summary: My first Harry Potter fanfic. Harry has one impossible wish. A wish to know his parents, to know the family he never met. When on a mission for Dumbledore in hopes of changing the past, he's sent back in time, but he's sent a bit too far. Instead of when his parents are already happily married. He arrives when his parents are in their 6th year. Now he has to help play match-maker, as well as to complete his mission, keep who he is a secret from Voldemort, and try not to change too much of the past. But when he sees a picture of a girl with long wavy jet black hair like his and his father's and green eyes. He begins to wonder who she is and what is her connection to the Marauders?
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Eunjung: This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. So please don't be too harsh. I'm willing to accept some constructive critism.
Sirius: That's right! Be nice to, Eunjung!
Lily: Eunjung does NOT own Harry Potter. All rights reserved for J.K. Rowling.
James: She, however, does own the plot and the story of the forgotten girl.
Remus: Please enjoy Eunjung's 1st Harry Potter Fanfiction!
Peter: And be on the look out for Eunjung's 2nd Harry Potter's Fanfiction. The Meeting of the Marauders Year One: Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew
James: It's Eunjung's version of the Marauders Hogwarts years!
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The Heart's Greatest Desire and the Forgotten Girl
Authoress - Eunjung Li
Prolouge
Harry's Greatest Desire
(Extracted from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone)
Harry's First Visit to the Mirror or Erised
Harry backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope.
He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything.
They walked straight past and Harry leant against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close.
It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in.It looked like a disused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls and there was an upturned waste-paper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again.
He stepped in front of it.
He had to clap his hands to his mouth to stop himself screaming.
He whirled around. His heart was pounding far more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.
But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, he turned slowly back to the mirror.
There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him, were at least ten others. Harry looked over his shoulder - but, still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?
He looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. If she really was there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air - she and the others existed only in the mirror.
She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes - her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time.
The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just like Harry's did.
Harry was now so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.
"Mum?" he whispered. "Dad?"
They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, and even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees -
Harry was looking at his family for the first time in his life.
The Potters smiled and waved at Harry as he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through and reach them.
He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.
How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here; he had to find his way back to bed.
He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.
Harry's Third Visit to the Mirror or Erised
That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.
And there were his mother and father, smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.
Except - "So - back again, Harry?"
Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore.
Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.
" I - I didn't see you, sir."
"Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling.
"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."
"I didn't know it was called that, sir."
"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"
"It - well - it shows me my family -"
"And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy."
"How did you know-?"
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"
Harry shook his head.
"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is; he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"
Harry thought. Then he said slowly. "It shows us what we want ... whatever we want ..."
"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you.
Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.
"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again.
If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.
Now, why don't you put that admirable Cloak back on and get off to bed?"
Harry stood up.
"Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"
"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."
"What do you see when you look in the Mirror?"
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
Harry stared.
"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."
It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, as he shoved Scabbers off his pillow, it had been quite a personal question.
The Prolouge
It was a cool breezy night in the autumn and Harry was having a dream. A dream of knowing about the family, he never knew. His parents, his grandparents, all his relative and a desire that Sirius had never died. He was with his mum, dad, Sirius, Professor Lupin, and other people he did not know. Harry was so absorbed he didn't realize that it was simply a dream. A dream and nothing else. Until suddenly the dream came to end and it was that night, October 31. His parent's last day. The day he became the Boy Who Lived, because of his mother's loving protection. How the alarms went off as Voldemort had entered. How his father had gone to duel Voldemort in hopes that Lily and Harry would escape. His father's death. Voldemort telling his mother to move aside. Her refusing to and her begging him to take her life and to spare Harry. Voldemort killing his mother and laughing. Turning to Harry and saying the Killing Curse, he met his downfall. Barely alive he disappeared. Harry woke up with a start. The tears in his eyes refused to fall out. Why did it have to turn out this way? He thought. Why did Peter have to be such a wimp! Why did he have to be the Boy Who Lived! He silently wished for his greatest desire to come true.
Harry's heart's greatest desire. The desire to know the family he never got to know or meet.
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Eunjung: That is the end of the prolouge.
James: Onwards to the 1st Chapter!!
Sirius: Please review! The first chapter will come a.s.a.p.