A/N: This is the first time I've tried a story saying, "what if?" so don't desert me yet. It probably stinks, but r/r anyway! Thanx! ::yawns sleepily::
THE STEPPING STONES OF CHANCE
Harry Potter sighed and opened his eyes. Another bleary
day of Aunt Petunia's chore list was waiting, as usual, on the kitchen table.
The list would probably be incredibly long, as he had returned from Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the day before. He stared at the cracked
ceiling and sighed again. If only, for one day, he could see what it would be
like to live with his parents. If only.
He turned in bed and climbed out, the broken spring
squeaking slightly as his slight weight tumbled off. He blearily rubbed his
eyes and put on his glasses, about to open a drawer full of Dudley's old
clothing, and reached to pull it open: but was not able to.
"What's going on?" he asked himself, looking around
wildly. He had somehow been transported to a strange, HUGE room with gold
wallpaper and (he looked down in astonishment) thick, rich scarlet carpeting.
Besides the fact that the Dursley's never liked wall-to-wall carpeting, even
they didn't own anything in comparison to the king-size bed positioned in a
corner, directly under a large, sunny skylight. He gulped and looked around
wildly. A large closet was positioned very close to the generous oak dresser he
was standing next to. Another oak piece of furniture, this time a sturdy desk,
was next to a large window looking out to an immense garden and lake, with two
swans swimming on its glassy surface.
Harry could see his reflection in the full size mirror
close to a door he assumed was a bathroom: and nearly screamed. His scar was
missing. He clapped his hand to his forehead and massaged the place it had once
been, but it was gone. Gone.
At least his glasses were the familiar, black round
shape, but without tape or any dents on the frame. His clothing was the most
comfortable thing he had ever felt: some type of silk pajamas that kept him
amazingly warm. They were a shiny gold. He felt like screaming, running out of
the house terrified, but he held himself in place and took a deep breath.
Where am I? A frantic part of his head screeched.
Stay calm. Everything will be all right. The more
rational, thinking part replied.
Yeah, I'm supposed to stay calm in some mysterious rich
house when I have absolutely NO idea who lives here. Is that your master plan?
Harry shook his
head and looked around again. He tentatively opened a dresser drawer and stared
at the expensive clothes inside: practically designer jeans and shirts. He
picked up a T-shirt and jumped as a voice suddenly yelled from downstairs in
the gigantic house.
"Harry! Hurry up or your breakfast will be cold!" the
voice was sweet and loving, he could tell, despite the annoyed tone. Suddenly a
thought came rushing at him: what if his silly little "what if" wish had come
true? Was he… with his parents? His green eyes widened and his heart skipped a
beat. It couldn't be possible, even in the wizarding world: could it?
He looked at the dresser, thinking about the choices: he
could stay up here, not risking it, and have the woman calling finally come up,
which she would; or he could risk it, put on some of this Harry's clothes and
go downstairs, ready to face whatever it was awaiting him. He picked the
latter, looked through some of this Harry's clothes, and finally picked a very
comfortable shirt and pair of jeans and, carrying them delicately, peeked into
the room he had assumed to be a bathroom. It was: one with expensive and cold
marble, and green marble counters with a bathtub and a separate shower. He
goggled at this, still beyond words, and hurried into the clothes and ran out
of the room.
The hall was carpeted as well, and the sunny passage had
several doors leading off it. He padded along in a pair of socks and walked
down a nice oak stairway. He came into a cheerful, airy kitchen; large like all
the other things he had seen so far in the house. He gripped his wand, which he
had found on the desk and appeared exactly the same as his old one, only more
polished. He took a deep breath as three faces turned to greet him at the
kitchen table.
"Hello, Harry, dear," a woman said, with red hair tied in
a loose bun and wearing a plain shirt and pants. He almost gasped as he
recognized her as the woman in his scrapbook of pictures: his mother. "Sit down
and have some pancakes. Minnie just made them!" A small house elf, carrying a
platter of steaming pancakes, smiled cheerily at him.
"Harry!" a girl cried. She seemed about 11 years old, and
she jumped out of her seat and ran to him, giving him a hug. She had red hair
in short plaits to her shoulders and light brown eyes. "Harry, tell me
everything! Everything about Hogwarts! I get to start soon, we'll be in classes
together!" She jumped up and down and returned to her seat. She was,
apparently, a very jumpy child.
"Er, hi Mom. Hi… sis." He guessed, sitting down at the
chair offered by the house elf. He looked at the last face, one he had longed
to see, to hear say something, all his life…
"Hello, Harry. Did you have a good time in school?" the
voice was warm and friendly, and oddly like that of a teen. He looked almost
exactly like Harry, but taller and not as skinny. His round glasses were also
pushed up the bridge of his nose, and unruly black hair also fell across his
forehead. However, his eyes were soft brown like the young girl… his sister? He
smiled, hiding the emotions at seeing his family – his family – for the
first time ever.
"Hi, Dad," to act more like the Harry he supposed was
here, (he had seen a Quidditch broom and Gryffindor Quidditch robes), he added,
"After we eat breakfast, can we play a little Quidditch?"
His mother burst out laughing. "I swear, you two are
exact replicas of each other. First day of summer vacation: want to play
Quidditch? I don't know how Alyssa and I survive." She smiled at his sister
(Alyssa?) and laughed. James Potter rolled his eyes.
"It's not like you two don't go shopping and socializing
with friends or having block parties, you know." Harry grinned. The fact that
the famous James Potter (from what he'd heard, anyway) had a sense of humor was
somehow amusing. The family helped themselves to pancakes for a few more
minutes before the bell rang. James and Lily got up, laughed, and opened the
kitchen door. A man with a long, white beard and glasses stepped in, and made
Harry swallow his toast without chewing. It was Albus Dumbledore.
If there was anytime to talk to Dumbledore, it was now.
Dumbledore smiled at the Potters charmingly, handing his coat to an eager to
please Minnie, and looked at Harry from the door.
"What a pleasant surprise! Come in, Albus, come in!"
James said, leading "Albus" to an armchair in the room to the side of the
kitchen. Lily, Harry, and Alyssa, who seemed suddenly shy and clung to her "big
brother", followed.
"Make yourself comfortable, Albus. Why did you come all
the way here from Hogwarts, and at the beginning of vacation no less?" Lily
asked curiously. Dumbledore smiled and looked at Harry, who gulped.
"As a matter of fact, it's Harry I need to talk to, Lily.
If you don't mind, could we go somewhere private to talk?" Though Lily looked
flustered, she nodded and left the room, dragging Alyssa behind her. James gave
a cheery "see you later, then," and followed. Dumbledore made sure the door was
securely closed before looking at Harry wearily. "So, Harry. You've discovered
the Wistomus charm. I thought it would happen soon."
"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but what –"
"You are from a world where your parents are dead, are
you not?"
"Yes, but…"
"I know you have questions. But first: listen to me. Let
me explain how this happened, and then I'll answer and questions. Understand?"
Harry nodded. "Good. Now let me begin.
"The Wistomus charm was developed by a wizard by the name
of Eltory. He was a good man who had an unquenchable curiosity. It was this
curiosity that made him make this certain charm.
"You see, Harry, the Wistomus charm is something that
gives the wisher whatever they want. It is, in a way, the brother of the Mirror
of Erised, which only shows the wisher what they want. Anyway, only a certain
feeling in a person's body can make the Wistomus charm affect if they are not
able to go back, forward, and around in time and other universes like I can.
And that certain aspect you have, Harry, hidden right inside you.
"Eltory was a brilliant man, you see. He did not want
just anybody to be able to have a wish fulfilled like a wish box: he wanted
someone special.
"I know what you are about to say, Harry," the professor
said as Harry opened his mouth to interrupt. "What is that element? I have it,
Harry. Voldemort did as well, but he used it before gaining power and therefore
never achieved immortality. It is this: a destiny that will change the world.
It might seem odd, but it is, in fact, one of the best yet most rash qualities
Eltory could use. You see, everyone has a destiny, but only some are truly
important. Yours is. Mine is. Voldemort's is, though in a bad way. By choosing
this element in a person he had no control over what type of person gets it:
good or bad.
"This charm can only be used once. You'll see, Harry.
Enjoy your day here. And remember: I could transport you back now, if you wish.
It will hurt you more than you will know to leave your parents and sister. Do
you wish to leave with me now?"
"No, sir," Harry said quietly. "I understand how you
feel, but I'd like to at least know my parents. And sister. Please." He looked
up at Dumbledore's solemn face.
"It's your choice, Harry," he said, slowly getting up, "I
will come for you at midnight. You may then say goodbye to everyone here, and
then go with me. Back…"
"To the Dursley's." Harry replied heavily.
"Don't be gloomy, Harry. You have more protection there
than you think." He smiled and disappeared, leaving Harry mulling over his
thoughts.
* * *
Alyssa was a good sister, nicer to him than Ginny was to
Ron, and simply adored Harry. This got to be annoying at times, when Alyssa (or
Lyssie, as she was called) would try to copy everything he did. He sighed as
she pulled herself up a branch of the oak tree, as skinny as he was at her age.
"Lyssie, do you always have to follow me?" he asked, when
two of his hiding places had been found that morning and this one in five
minutes. She smiled cheery, a little optimist, and started chatting about
Hogwarts and what her "dear friend Wilma" said her brother said about Hogwarts.
Harry sighed and suddenly stopped his mood. He was only going to see his sister
for a week! Better be the best brother possible.
"So, what do you want to do?" he asked, his inner body
wincing at what she might say. Her face shone.
"You're asking me? Hmmm, I think… er… how about… we build
something!" As this was far from the answer expected, he said dumbly,
"Build something?"
"Of course, silly! Lets go to the woodshop."
She hopped down from the tree, and he followed, feeling
slightly sick.
An hour later, two smiling children triumphantly carried
a small, oddly shaped stool out of the woodshop. Their mother and father, who
had been sitting at one of the benches in the garden, laughed and rose to greet
them.
"This is beautiful, you two!"
"We'll put it in the kitchen," said their father,
smiling. "So, Harry: shall we play Quidditch?" Harry grinned, shouted "you bet!"
over his shoulder, and ran upstairs to get the broom he had seen earlier.
His father was amazing: no, not amazing, spectacular.
They tried to get the Quaffle past each other and dodge the loose bludgers
(Lyssie and Lily went inside distastefully), and Harry caught the snitch quite
frequently and thoroughly enjoyed impressing his dad.
"Let's take a rest, Harry." James laughed after an hour
of sweating. Harry smiled at him and followed his father, his father,
inside.
* * *
Harry lay in bed, thinking. It had been the best day of his life: the feeling of being completely loved, of having a family. And now it would have to vanish and he would be transported home to the cold-hearted Dursley's.
He stifled a sob and lay on his side. Dumbledore had been
right. It was more painful than before, now that he knew his family. He knew
how Alyssa was scared to dive into deep water. He truly knew, now, that his
father was the coolest guy, next to Sirius, he had ever met. His mother was
awesome, all light and kindness. He felt like kicking something. This house!
His family! If only Sirius hadn't switched places with Wormtail… he could have
had the perfect life, watched Lyssie struggle through Hogwarts.
But
would it have been so great? He might never have met Ron and Hermione. After
all, the reason the met the Weasley's at first was because he didn't know how
to get through the barrier with no parent to tell him. And Hermione: hadn't the
real reason she come in to their compartment, besides looking for Neville's toad,
been to meet him, the legendary Harry Potter? He wasn't legendary in this
world.
And then, if he hadn't met his two best friends, how
could they have had the fun times they had had together? How could they have
gone on so many dangerous adventures side by side?
And Hagrid, who was friendly to almost all: how would he
have become good friends with Hagrid if Hagrid hadn't come to bring Harry to
Hogwarts? He would just be another kid, maybe one with the "destiny to change
the world" and a good Quidditch player, but nothing truly out of the ordinary.
How could he give up his past times, his friends, even
for the family he had wanted for so long? Yes, they were his family. But he had
lived so long without them, they still had hidden things they did not know. He
had yearned but he had accepted; he could never forget his friends and past
life. No, Wistomus charm: don't ever work again. My home is back home, not in a
world I barely know.
The clock in the hall chimed twelve times, and with a
rustling of wind Dumbledore appeared in his room. Harry got out of bed without
a word, fully dressed, and followed Dumbledore out of the room. He stopped at
Alyssa's room.
"May I say goodbye?" he asked quietly. Dumbledore nodded,
tears in his blue eyes. Harry opened the door softly.
In the blue and white room lay his sister, her breathing
quiet and light. Tears filled Harry's eyes as she turned in her sleep and faced
him, her face so easy. He walked to her bed and sat down on the ground next to
it.
"Goodbye, Lyssie. I'll miss you, always. I never knew you
existed, before I came here. Oh, be good at Hogwarts, because I won't be there
to see you. Let the Dumbledore there take care of you. Oh, Lyssie, I love you.
My little sister, I love you." He kissed the top of her red hair and slowly
walked out of the room. As he was about to close the door, his parent's room
just down the hall, he could have sworn he heard a small voice say,
"I love you too, Harry."
A/N: I think this is my
favorite fanfiction ever! ::wipes her eyes:: Please review, flames welcomed! And since I hate doing disclaimers,
let's put it this way: figure it our yourself who's characters are mine or J.K.
Rowling's.