Dreams
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series
Okay this is my second fanfic, but first one-shot. It's really short but keep in mind it's NOT a story, just an imaginative ending to a great series. Set at the end of Deathly Hallows. Hope you like and please review. Thank you!
Third Person POV
"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."
Harry lay in his four-poster bed, thinking about the day. The friends he'd lost, the ones he still had, how the war was finally over. Maybe now he could finish his year at Hogwarts and become an Auror, or Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, considering that was his best subject. But what was probably hardest to accept was the fact that the war was finally over. They had won.
Harry thought now about how there was no more Voldemort, and how he would never return. How He would not be trying to kill him, someone he loves or just random civilians whenever He feels like it. Good raised up against evil.
Subconsciously, Harry reached up and felt his scar. He wasn't embarrassed of it anymore; it was something to be proud of. It was more like a reminder. A reminder of all the great family and friends he'd lost recently and over the years. A reminder of all the amazing friends he made that stuck by him until the end. A reminder of how Harry defeated Voldemort once and for all this very day. The lightning bolt shaped scar on Harry Potter's forehead, the one that made him famous, was now a reminder to everyone that one young infant had produced a new prophecy, caused a war, found him and his two best friends in trouble year after year at Hogwarts, was the reason You-know-who had vanished and returned, and had defeated the dark lord on countless occasions, all because of the boy who lived.
As Harry felt his eye lids drop, the last thing he remembered was feeling some sort of uneasiness and his scar throbbing before he drifted into a well-deserved sleep.
Harry had a strange dream, which included Harry, at different moments of his life; when he finally defeated Voldemort, Harry, Ron and Hermione searching for the seven horcruxes, Dumbledore's death, when Ginny kissed him, The Ministry of Magic admitting Harry was right about You-know-who's back, Sirius's death, Dumbledore's Army, Voldemort's return, Cedric's death, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Professor Lupin, when Harry cast a patronum, the chamber of sectrets, Harry's first year at Hogwarts, and discovering that he, Harry Potter, was a wizard.
Harry suddenly sat bolt up right and coughed up the dust that had fallen into his mouth. He looked around and saw he was in a single bed with old sheets and hardly anything else around him. He was under the stairs. He realised the dust had fallen into his mouth when Dudley had ran down the stairs. Oh, that's right. Harry Potter was just a boring 11 year old orphan who lived with his aunt, uncle and cousin, and had a weird lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
Harry remembered his dream, and thought he was turning crazy. He was just… Harry. Just Harry. He got dressed into Dudley's hand-me-downs, which were far too big, and went into the kitchen to make breakfast. It was Dudley's birthday today. Again, he remembered the dream, and shook it out of his head. He was Harry Potter, nobody special.
What ya think? You like? You hate? Please review, like, and favourite!
~Sarah~