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"Will you SHUT UP?" Harry Potter roared at the top of his lungs to the man who was supposed to be his best friend. Ronald Weasley came to a complete silence. Seething, Harry bitterly said, "It is none if your damn business! I don't care if she is your sister or not. We want to be together. We want happiness but you could care less, couldn't you? Can't I just have your blessing? Please?" Harry's intense, begging, green-eyed gaze sat upon the pale, glaring eyes of Ron. Harry couldn't find the words to explain how much he cared for Ginny Weasley.
"No," Ron angrily insisted, "You've hurt her once, I won't have you hurting her, again. I don't care if you did defeat You-Know-Who." Harry's shoulders slumped in immediate disappointment. Couldn't he see that he didn't want to hurt anymore, either? He didn't think he could ever leave Ginny, again. "If I ever see your filthy hands upon my sister, again," Ron said threateningly, "I swear, it'll be the end of our friendship as I hex your ass out of the country. So piss off."
Harry had become so angry at this moment, the cabinets in the Weasley's kitchen boomed open, and the lit candles around had appeared to be blown away. He didn't understand how Ron could be so irrational. After all, the Weasleys and himself had graduated from Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They were all of age. They were adults. Yet, he was still an overprotective, bloody fool over his sister. He had tried explaining this to Ron again and again, but the stubborn man was still against the idea of Harry and Ginny being together. Glaring at Ron, he hissed, "I wish I had never met you!"
The red-haired man stomped away, up the stairs, muttering things like, "Right-side git" and, "Who do you think you are?" Fuming and looking for something to do, Harry shut all of the cabinets. All of a sudden, Harry felt dizzy, nauseous even. The kitchen became blurred; he could only explain it as if the room itself was spinning in circles. He grabbed onto the table for support and blinked his eyes to clear his vision. What was happening? Darkness took him over as he crashed to the floor.
Harry felt very warm and comfortable. He could feel the sun lay right over his body, and a soft bed underneath him. It also wasn't right. His usual cot in Ron's room wasn't this comfy. Instead of the chickens he usually heard outside, he heard the honks of blearing car horns and footsteps walking in every direction. He wondered why he wasn't being called down for breakfast or why his friends weren't waiting for him to wake up. He did faint, didn't he? He remembered falling to the floor out of becoming unconscious.
Finally, Harry opened his eyes and sat up only to see emerald green walls. This definitely wasn't the usual bright orange of Ron's room. In fact, he didn't remember seeing any walls this color at the Burrow. When he put on his glasses he decided this was much too fancy for a house like the Weasley's house. He was sitting in a large sized bed post, made with cherry wood and pretty carvings in the wooden poles. There was a desk and dresser that matched, and a shiny wooden floor with a silver rug. The sheets, he laid in were green silk, as was the silver comforter. Indeed, this was a too expensive taste for the Burrow, if he was completely honest. Why would there be a computer sitting on top of the desk, and a flat screen TV hanging on the wall directly in front of the bed?
He must be in the muggle world! Harry immediately got out of the bed and noticed he was wearing black silk pajama pants. And why wasn't he wearing a shirt? He ALWAYS wore a shirt. Walking around, he noticed a bookshelf with a bunch of law enforcement books. None of them had the leather binding he usually found in Wizard World. The desk was covered in stacks of thin paper with notes all over them. He picked up the first sheet and scanned the writing. The notes spoke of detective work and how to notice the tiniest details. At the top of the page read, "Harry J. Smith."
Confused, he peered around for his wand, walking to the dresser and noticing a picture. NO WAY. Harry stared at it in shock. Not only was it not moving, like in the wizard world, it was of him! He was holding onto a girl he didn't recognize closely and hugging her intimately. She had soft, chocolate brown hair, dark green eyes, and creamy looking skin. How was this possible?
Harry searched, again, for his wand. Where the bloody hell was it? NONE of this was normal. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! He turned around sharply. Someone was knocking at the door of the room. He hesitated, wondering if he should open it or not, but swiftly turn the knob and swung it open. He looked ahead and arched an eyebrow. No one was there. Was he going mad?
"Down here, silly!" squeaked a voice a couple of feet below him. A little girl was standing in the doorway. She appeared to be around 7 or 8. Her hair was short and vibrantly red, and her eyes, familiar, were a piercing green. The girl's skin was ivory colored with a good amount of freckles all over. Harry immediately thought that this was the young version of Ginny! His mouth fell open as he stared. "Hello! Would you mind if I come in?"
Harry ignored the question and yelled, "Ginny! What happened to you! Why are you so young all of a sudden? Did you accidentally drink an reverse-age potion or get he-?"
He stopped talking as the girl suddenly pushed past him and closed the door. The girl smiled brightly at him and giggled softly. "I'm not Ginny!" she exclaimed, "I'm Lily! Lily Potter." She held out her hand in greeting.
Ignoring this, Harry gawked at her, "M-mum? No way! This can't be possible, you're de-."
She girl furrowed her brow impatiently and put down her hand. "I'm not your mum, either!" She folded her arms and stared at the raven-haired man. "Why don't you sit down?" she offered.
Harry stood there still, staring at the little. How was this not his mum, if her name was Lily Potter? Though, he distinctly remembered his mum's original surname to be Evans. "Who are you, then?" he finally asked.
The girl smiled, again, and answered brightly, "I'm your daughter, of course!"
No. Surely this COULDN'T be HIS daughter. He didn't remember making love to anyone at all and why couldn't he find his wand? "H-how are you . . . MY daughter?" he asked nervously.
"You really SHOULD sit down," Lily said, again. When he didn't move, she arched an eyebrow, "Really. Please sit. I'll explain everything."
Harry sat on the edge of the bed and the girl moved the desk chair, and sat in front of him. "You know what's going on? Is this a dream? Am I going mad?" He sighed. He wanted to know what was happening to him.
Lily stayed silent for a bit, studying her father, trying to think of the best way to start her rather interesting story. Harry tapped his foot impatiently, but didn't say anything. "Well," she said, finally, "to begin, I'm from the future." Her father nodded, having already figured this out, "A nonexistent future, at that," she said sourly.
Harry arched his eyebrows in interest, "What do you mean by that?"
Lily sighed; this was going to be tough. "Do you remember having a fight with Ron about my mother, Ginny?" Harry nodded, again, wanting her to continue. She hesitated, once more, "Do you remember what you said at the end, that you wished you'd never m-?"
"-met him?" Lily nodded. He frowned. Did his meaningless wish come true, then? Was he in a world with Ron being his best friend? "Did that er . . . Did the wish prevail, then?" he asked her sadly. "Did I never meet him?"
His daughter smiled apologetically, "Yes. I'm afraid that it did come true. You are now stuck in an alternate universe without Uncle Ron.," she said slowly, "When you made the wish, your magic surrounded you, as it usually does when you're angry or scared. When you made your wish, it sent you here."
Harry breathed slowly, trying to calm his anxiety. "Why are you here, then, if you're not supposed to . . .exist?" He didn't want to ask the question so bluntly, but he could find no other way to reword his curiousness.
Lily seemed to understand and half-way smiled. "I AM supposed to exist," she explained, "YOU'RE not supposed to be where you are. I don't really KNOW how I got here, I only know that I'm supposed to explain how YOU'RE here. I might just be in your head, who knows." She looked out the window to avoid his stare as said, "You have to reverse this magic, somehow. But I think you might find that somewhat difficult." She frowned. This was much harder than the girl thought it was going to be.
"Why is that? If I could find my wand, I could try -."
"No," Lily interrupted, "You're not going to FIND your wand."
Harry's eyes widened, "But . . .why not? Did I lose it?"
The girl sighed and leaped out of the chair, "I think you'll find that once I leave, you'll remember the past of your life here."
"Will I forget my other past as well?"
Lily peered at him, thinking, "No," she said softly, "I don't think you will. You need to remember in order to figure out how to get back to where you came from. That is, if you WANT to go back from where you came from." At this, she turned around and walked out the door.