I do not own Harry Potter, any of the wonderful characters or the quotes from the epilogue of book seven! They all belong to J.K Rowling! Enjoy, please review and check out my other stories! :)

My Burning Desire

Blackness. That was all I could see. Engulfing me, terrifying me. I could feel my self slipping away, like the grip I had on the world was loosening and I was just falling, into nothing. Then, just as the blackness was taking over and I succumbed to this nothingness, a blinding, small ball of light came into my line of vision. I tried to move closer to it, hoping it would release me from this horrible sensation. The light burned brightly and I could almost sense that it was all the good I had ever felt in the world before me. The light was keeping me hanging on, keeping me from the blackness.

All of a sudden I was being hurled through the air, feeling a sensation not unlike that of apparition. I landed with a light thud, stumbling slightly, then straightened up to see my surroundings. I realised I was in a sitting room, there were two white and red striped couches and a matching armchair, the walls were painted a pleasant cream colour, photos, the subjects of which I couldn't make out, hung on them, the window outside was blocked by deep red curtains and a red rug lay on the floor on which two people were sitting. At first inspection I noticed the first was Ginny Weasley, her hair as long and fiery red as ever, although a few years seemed to have passes as her faced was more lined than I had ever known. A little boy sat next to her, playing with building blocks, he had messy, jet-black hair like me I noticed as I absent-mindedly ran my fingers to my own mop of hair which was uncannily like the boys. The young boy had green eyes, scarily similar to my own and his face lit up as Ginny smiled and talked to him. The boy could not have been more than five and just when I began to wonder what I was doing there or where I in fact was, my thoughts were interrupted by another boy, older than the first, who walked into the room. He again had black hair like the boy and wore round glasses just like me. He sat down beside younger boy, I assumed the two were brothers, and began to take some of the younger child's blocks. The smaller boy began to cry and as Ginny stood up to comfort him, a small girl entered the sitting room. She was almost identical to Ginny, her hair the exact same shade, as were the shape and colour of her eyes. She was clutching a battered but well used teddy bear, which I recognised instantly from Ginny's bedroom. The young girl whimpered to her mother, her voice sweet and innocent, she must have been about three,

"Mommy, James stole my dolly"

"James, that was not very nice" Ginny said, scolding the older boy, "give Lily back her doll now".

Reluctantly, the boy handed over the doll but, when his mothers back was turned, grabbed his first opportunity to steal it back.

James? Lily? Were these my children? Why had Ginny named her children after my dead parents?

Just as I was taking it all in, I was hurled away from the scene and felt my feet touch the ground again moments later, but not in the same scene as before. I was definitely outside, for the sun shone brightly and I could feel a cool breeze ruffle trees around me. Then I recognised the familiar, tall outline of The Burrow in the distance before registering what was in front of me. I was looking in at a wedding party. I could tell this by the decorations that had been used at Bill and Fleurs wedding and the bride and groom standing in front of the wizard I recognised as the man who had been at Bill and Fleurs wedding. I then realised with a jolt in my stomach that a version of myself, slightly older, judging by the lines, was standing next to what could only be my bride, Ginny. I was at my wedding.

I watched on as the priest gave his speeches, we exchanged rings, kissed and then were bombarded with people offering congratulations. I was even surprised when it was time for our first dance at how good I was, much better than at the Yule Ball. The sun was setting and the crowd was thinning until it was just the Weasleys and Harry left. I wanted to stay in this peaceful and happy life, one where Voldemort was clearly not an issue judging by the happiness on their faces but all too soon I felt myself being pulled into the unknown and then landing again on solid earth.

Looking around I felt the sense of familiarity as I was standing on platform 9 ¾, the scarlet red Hogwarts Express in front of me. I looked around as to what I should do next and I saw a family of five shadowy figures, my vision reduced by the smoke from the train, all hurrying towards me. Once again I saw Ginny, again looking older than the last scene, her hair greying, and a bespectacled man who I realised was an older me. The others were children, two pushing trolleys, both were the boys who I had witnessed in the sitting room, they were older two, one of about twelve years of age, the other couldn't be more than eleven. Their trolleys were laden with trunks and owl cages and as they came closer I could hear their voices. The younger of the boys spoke first,

"Where are they?"

"We'll find them" Ginny said reassuringly. After a while they met up with a group of four others whom I recognised as Ron and Hermione and what appeared to be their two children. Soon enough, the children were boarding the train, the young red-headed girl whining that she couldn't go. I saw my older self bend down to my youngest son who looked just like me, right down to the colour and shape of his eyes. The fear was clearly evident on the young boys face and his voiced was worried when he spoke,

"What if I'm in Slytherin?"

"Albus Severus" my older self announced quietly, "you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was the bravest man I ever knew".

"But just say-"

"Then Slytherin house will have gained an excellent student, won't it?"

I was cut off from hearing the rest of the conversation as the train sprang to life, ready for departure. I saw myself close the train door and step back, waving goodbye. I watched my future self put his arm around Ginny before the scene dissolved and I found myself in darkness once more.

This time, as the ball of light came into my sight, I tried with all my might to fight the threatening darkness and reach the ball. I was filled with an obsession, as though if I reached the ball I would get to witness those sweet memories again. For they were an unattainable future, not to be enjoyed by me. I concentrated on the light and let it fill me up with happiness and joy and suddenly I knew what I had to do. I was to use the light to fight the darkness, like the good fighting the bad, a story as old as time yet a story that was still as true. Soon I felt the blackness retreating, my body finding the earth again and the falling feeling subsiding. I was once again lying on the forest floor, after being hit by the killing curse by Voldemort. The war was still very much alive, the good of the wizarding world still resisting yet I had a new force driving me forward. That future, while still very much unrealistic, was my deepest desire, my very own Mirror of Erised. It gave me a push to finish Voldemort once and for all, to get up off the forest floor though all I wanted to do was hide and run away. That passionate desire helped me to realise what I truly want. It gave me the strength to open my eyes and keep fighting.

I had seen the future and I wanted it to be true, to live that life. I was ready to fight Voldemort to attain it. It was my burning desire.