Just A Dream
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
"Steak and kidney pie for dinner." The redheaded woman announced with a grin. "Your favorite."
The little boy smiled up at the familiar seeming woman as she pulled him into a tight hug, ruffling his unruly hair once she let go.
"Come on son, your father is waiting. Dinner is already on the table." She smiled warmly and led him to the dining room. The table held a full course meal and a dessert of treacle tart. Everything smelled delicious. A man, who looked similar to the young boy, sat at the head of the table. He appeared to be reading a newspaper with moving pictures. A grin burst across his lips upon spotting his wife and the child beside her.
"It's about time you showed up for dinner, Harry." He greeted the young boy. "Your mum and I were worried sick."
"Did you have a good day at school Harry?" The red haired woman asked.
"Harry?" Her voice seemed to grow louder and louder. "Harry… HARRY JAMES POTTER." The black haired boy flinched and stumbled backwards, nearly knocking into the china cabinet his Aunt Petunia proudly displayed. The scene disappeared and the youngster was brought back to reality. His aunt, uncle, and cousin sat around the table, partially through the dinner he prepared for them earlier that day. All three of his relatives were examining him from the table. Dudley seemed most excited to see what would happen to his cousin.
"Yes Aunt Petunia?" Harry stared at his aunt, forcing back the smile that had somehow formed.
"Refill the gravy." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Now."
"Yes ma'am." He whispered, grabbing hold of the gravy boat, and turned to leave the room.
"Just what were you smiling at, boy?" Vernon grunted, glaring at his nephew from across the table.
Harry turned to face his uncle and forced an unemotional look, gulping when he said, "N-nothing, sir. Nothing at all." He had lost his sense of thought to an all too real seeming daydream.
"Liar." His uncle stated. "You can go to bed without dinner for that. Get the dishes started before I take away tomorrow's meals too."
"Yes Uncle Vernon. I'm sorry Uncle Vernon." Harry sighed and shuffled off toward the kitchen. If only the dream had been a reality.
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