Chapter 2- Of Dreams and Magic Letters

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter

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It was morning when I woke up, I knew that much, but why I woke up before Aunt Petunia woke us up was questionable. I sighed and leaned back, seconds before I realized I wasn't in the cupboard under the stairs. This room looked like Dudley's second bedroom, if it had been decorated differently.

The walls were painted like a forest, and the bed I lay on was situated between two huge wooden statues that looked like roots and at the top right in the corner of the room was the trunk of the tree. It was meant to be a weeping willow, obvious by the curtain at the end of the bed made to look like branches.

I crawled off the white and blue themed bed and looked around the room at the bookshelves of books with a comfortable looking grey sleeping bag, and the desk with an office chair, and the earthy wardrobe. The wall opposite of me had a large glass covered in writing on it, and there were two doors leading out of the room, one going to the hallway and one to a closet.

My eyebrows furrowed, I let my feet take me out the door and down to the kitchen. It was dark, and when I turned on the light I was greeted by a shout of surprise and a pile of presents.

Aunt Petunia smiled at me, "Honey, where's your brother?"

I shook my head and went into the kitchen, about to start cooking when Aunt Petunia stopped me, telling me that she would, and giving me no other choice in the matter. Uncle Vernon and Dudley came down, each looking substantially thinner than I remember them, and each wished me a happy birthday.

'A dream,' I realize, 'it has to be a dream.'

A set of footsteps came down the steps and a boy came in. He was chubby, his hair red and his eyes auburn, and I couldn't help but wonder who he was.

"Henley! Happy Birthday!" My relatives said.

'Harry!?' I realized, 'What happened? What's going on?'

I excused myself to get the mail, and I realized that all the pictures that were once solely of Dudley were now featuring Henley and I. Rushing past, I practically dived at the mail as it came through the slot: bill, bill, bill, postcard from Aunt Marge, bill, a few envelopes made out to Henley, and then two more, each different.

The first was labeled to Henley and looked dark and gloomy, so I sat it aside. The second was labeled 'Justine August Dursley.'

Startled, I looked back at Henley's, and read his name: Henley Gerald Dursley.

This was definitely not a dream. It was a nightmare!

I threw the letters to the ground and ran out the door, making it the road before slamming head first into a white man with glowing red eyes. Turning, I ran again, and when I looked back it wasn't the man, but a boy with blue eyes showing much of the emotion in Harry and my own green ones. I kept running.

I passed many faces of people I didn't recognize, like a family of gingers and another of bleach blondes, until I reached the ocean, and much to my surprise I ran over it too. A building came into focus and I felt myself turn from it. Suddenly, three loud sounds assaulted my ears, and I opened my eyes to the familiar inside of the cupboard under the stairs.

Harry was there, sleeping calmly, and I reached over and hugged him, feeling my heart beat a mile a minute. That was terrifying.

Aunt Petunia knocked again and opened the door, for once almost glad to see the scowling face of my Aunt, and I made my way to the kitchen.

Breakfast was well on its way when the mail came. I threw away the core from my second apple and washed up before going to get it: bill, bill, postcard from Aunt Marge, bill, bill, and finally two nearly identical letters sent in envelopes of parchment.

I narrowed my eyes. One was Harrys and the other, it seemed, was mine. I frowned and set the bills down on the table near the door before heading down the hall, opening my letter as I went. When I got to the kitchen I handed the postcard to Aunt Petunia and was about to hand Harry his letter and read mine when they both got stolen from my hands. I turned a surprised stare at my Aunt as she read the letters quickly.

Upon finishing, Aunt Petunia pushed everyone but Uncle Vernon from the room and closed the door behind us. We huddled at the door to hear, but their voices were so hushed we couldn't hear a word.

For the next few days between chores I took the time to watch my aunt and uncle's actions, taking note of the more letters they were getting every day and how Vernon stayed home from work to board up the house. Soon only a few small shafts of light could escape the boards, and it seemed to calm them down.

That was, until a week later while we were all sitting in the den having tea when millions of letters burst through the closed up fireplace.

A name fluttered past my face, written in bold green letters. It was mine. These were an abundance of letters that were twins of the ones that came in days ago! Calming myself, I searched the floor for the one with my name and scooped it up, stuffing it down in the pocket of my shorts before hurrying out of the room. Looking back, I saw Harry jumping up and down to catch one. I shook my head, wondering why he didn't just get one off the floor.

At that point, Uncle Vernon pulled Harry out and told us all we had five minutes to get what we wanted and get in the car. Confused, but not about to ask anything, I shrugged and grabbed the bowl of apples from the kitchen table and a blanket and pulled Harry with me to the car. I smiled at him, and he frowned back.

"Sis, what's the grin about?" He whispered.

I shook my head and we watched Uncle Vernon reprimand Dudley for trying to bring his television, VCR, and computer in his bag. Wherever we were going, I was willing to bet a million dollars he wouldn't be able to use those. When everyone was in the car, we were completely silent, and I mentally sighed and decided to ponder on the meaning of the dream.

What life could have been, had we been part of the Dursley family was what the first part was, and I have to say my room looked cool, and then the letters. Those letters looked nothing like the ones with the strange green writing, but they seemed to have the same powerful feeling to them. I could still feel the weight of the power through my pocket.

Then there was the man. Or was it the boy? I suppose they were the same person. The boy seemed familiar, actually, his face at least, and they both had the same feeling to them, like a mix between a lonely person and a dark soul. It scared me. That person scared me.

The other people almost seemed familiar, too, but in a stranger sense. It was almost like they were people I would know in contrast to people I do know. I shoved the thought aside. It was impossible to see into the future, even in dreams. They were probably just the faces of people I've seen on the streets. Human minds can't make up faces like that.

When I got to the building I shuddered slightly. It was completely unfamiliar to me, and even from the distance I'd seen it at it had seemed like a prison. Like if I had gone any closer I would be stuck there forever. Another feeling rushed to the surface when I saw the building, though, a sense of protectiveness and the need to rush in there and save somebody.

Who that somebody was, however, completely eludes me. I don't know anyone who might even be relatively close to a prison! A memory flashed through my mind when I thought about it though, of a black dog and a name. Paddy. Padfoot, maybe? I shook that from my mind. Whoever that was, if it even was someone, the memory of them wasn't in a prison. Or maybe, just maybe, it was something I didn't know about the person that might help me in the future.

'Stop!' I thought, 'You're not helping yourself any by confusing yourself even more! Things like that don't happen!'

Right now, though, with the memory of the dream fresh in my mind, I severely doubted that they couldn't. It seemed completely possible in that world. Why couldn't it be in mine, too?

Uncle Vernon stopped multiple times on our trip, only to get out and shake his head before driving off in a completely random direction. Dudley was getting bored, I could tell even if he wasn't voicing it, and everyone but Vernon himself was thinking he was going crazy, if he hadn't been in the first place.

We finally stopped for the night at a hotel and got two rooms for the night. We had dinner, provided with the rooms, and then headed off to bed. I watched as the boys both drifted off to sleep before climbing up onto the windowsill and sitting there, staring at car after car drove by, unknowing of the pair of children who were abused in the very hotel they passed so carelessly.

I couldn't sleep that night, thinking off about the nightmare, but I didn't dare run off like I'd so desperately wanted to for so long. I watched as black rain clouds drifted through, not quite ready to release their pelting rain droplets and I listened as owls swooshed by and other nocturnal life awoke for the party under the light of the moon.

An owl flew down and landed on my lap. I reached my hand down to pet its soft black plumage before noticing the letter tied to its leg. It was another letter for me, a twin to the last, and realizing this I smiled at it.

"I already have one of those, darling. Would you like me to open it anyway?" I asked.

The owl hooted its reply and held out the leg that had the letter attached to it. Carefully, I untied the letter and the owl stood patiently, staring at me. I took my time in observing the letter before opening it.

'Kari Lily Potter' I had to stop after reading that, though. Nobody ever used my name, whether it was because they didn't know it or for whatever reason they had, they never, ever used it.

I quickly went on to the letter and read through it.

"Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, headmaster Albus Dumbledore…" I skimmed quickly over the top of the letter, "pleased to inform you, yadda yadda yadda, accepted into Hogwarts, and so on… deputy headmistress Minerva McGonagall."

I frowned and offered my shoulder to the owl before standing and getting a piece of paper from the room and writing on it in one of the provided pens.

"Dear Professor McGonagall, I would be entirely too pleased to join you for the school year at Hogwarts, and judging by the fact Harry got one of these letters, too, I'm going to assume he was also accepted. The only problem we have is that our Uncle is currently having a mental breakdown of sorts, and most likely wouldn't let us go anyhow. He doesn't believe in magic. It would be ultimately useful if you would send someone from the school to collect us from our relatives, and I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you very much, Kari Lily Potter."

Turning to the owl, I silently asked if that was appropriate. It hooted in response, and I decided to interpret that as a yes, so I tied the note to the owl's leg and bid it goodbye, apologizing for not having any snacks for it.

I turned to face Harry for a moment, wondering about what would happen now that we were magical. It was almost scary, having a little voice in your head telling you to turn and run. That you were playing with something dangerous. I wasn't really that type of person, though. Fears were meant to be faced, not run away from. I couldn't help but ponder what it was that the voice was afraid of, though.

Was it the dream?