Well, I decided to write this because I'm a really big fan of Harry Potter and I really enjoy writing! LOL! Anyway, when approaching this, I didn't want to obviously disrupt J.K. Rowlings' "vision" but at the same time I wanted to incorporate something that had to do with Voldemort ( I'm sorry! I mean He-who-shall-not-be-named! LOL!) in the storyline, because he is a major factor in the first four books. So, this is what I came up with. There is the connection to the murder of Harry's parents and Voldemort but I don't actually (at least I hope I don't) disturb what has happened/will happen in the series. Anyway, this would take place between The Chamber of Secrets and The Prisoner of Azkaban, granted that Harry and his friends had another year of schooling in between both books (well, we're all entitled to dramatic license, right?). Mostly, the selection came because I couldn't decide whether or not I wanted Gilderoy Lockhart or Remus Lupin to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher (Lockhart is just so funny and I just absolutely adore Lupin). Ultimately, I decided Lockhart would be more beneficial to the story and Lupin just wouldn't fit right (sorry to all you Lupin fans! I miss him too!). And yes, there are additional characters, but NONE of them steal the show in anyway-the story is still focused on Harry, with Ron and Hermione of course. If ANYBODY notices annoying characters that aren't meant to be annoying and are those awful insert types (we've all read those fics with those "Mary Jane" characters I'm sure) that have no apparent use to the plot, PLEASE TELL ME and I will try my best to fix it ASAP! *shudders* Anyway, that's about it. There will be exactly 15 chapters (yes, it will be shorter) and I kind of tried to capture J.K. Rowlings' writing style, but it was difficult because I have my own, so it might be a mesh. Well, please read and review! Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything like that.
*Also, in Chapter 2, I stole the name "Schmendrick" from the Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle. I really liked the name so I wanted to use it. My Schmendrick MIGHT have similar character traits to the one in the book (I'm not really sure), just to inform anyone who's curious, I suppose.
Harry Potter and the Creator of Destinies
Chapter 1: Moving Stars
That July 31 was as hot as ever a summer day had been in the suburban British town. The sun had set hour before, but the muggy humid weather lingered on, making the outside almost unbearable.
The muggles of the town had mostly gone lazily to sleep, but he did not. Instead, he stood outside on his porch, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he stared up at the stars. It was nearing midnight and the man was growing extremely hot under his ropes. Yet, he still stood gazing at the evening sky overhead.
In the town, the man who stood dazed upon his porch was talked about very much. He wasn't like them and they knew it. But what was it that made him so peculiar? So odd? So suspicious? This the man kept a mystery, rarely socializing with the people of the town and keeping to himself most of the time. After all, the ignorant muggles would never be able to accept that he was a wizard.
However, there was one muggle who knew the truth and he had suddenly exited his neighboring home through the back door.
The muggle started trotting his way across the lawn to the fence that separated the two houses, wearing only his pajamas and a pair of slippers. He had golden blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore a cocky grin.
"What are you doing out here so late in this heat? I was just ready to go to bed and I saw you standing out here through the window…hey, nice dress you go on," he commented in sarcastic reference to his dark robes, "Very stylish." He let out a laugh but the wizard did not look down at his neighbor. Although he was aware that policy set forth by the Ministry of Magic prohibited him from allowing a muggle to know who he really was, the wizard on the porch could not bring himself to use a memory charm on his neighbor. He was lonely and even though the two bickered greatly and his blonde neighbor proved to be more of a nuisance than a friend, consistently criticizing and annoying him, the wizard had to admit he enjoyed the company of anyone to no one.
However, it was the muggle growing annoyed now, not accustomed to being ignored so blatantly. "HELLO?! Well, what the ruddy are you looking at?" He awaited an answer, but his impatience got the best of him in a matter of seconds. "Let me guess; your brain turned off again!" The muggle now laughed, amused by his own humor
"It's nothing, Leo," replied the wizard quite unexpectedly, but he did not take his eyes off the stars. Leo glared at him quizzically, a look of perplexity on his face for he had expected his wizard friend to become immediately defensive, as he usually did when he ridiculed him. After a few moments of waiting for a reaction, Leo glanced up, trying to determine what his neighbor was actually staring at.
"Ok…so, seriously, what are we looking at, 'cause I'm not seeing anything," he stated, squinting a bit to see in the dim light.
"The stars," answered the wizard, as if talking to himself, his gaze never leaving the sky. "They move." Leo's eyes averted warily back to his neighbor, struggling to see him in the dark shadows.
"Right…sure…" he trailed off a bit awkwardly. "Are you sure you're feeling ok, buddy?" Maybe it's the heat. You should be inside where it's cool. Get some rest. You know?" The wizard did not say anything. "What is it? The apocalypse?" continued Leo. Still no answer. "Well, if it is, let me know, will you? I'd love to see you have to perform some painful sacrificial ritual to save the world or whatever it is you weirdoes-I mean wizards-do." Breaking into hysterics for the third time, Leo was startled to hear the wizard speak again.
"Sacrifice…yes, the sacrifice. The ritual." Leo glared at him again, before a smile crept across his face.
"Sacrifice? really?" he questioned, excited, and then raised an eyebrow. "This means you're finally going to spill some blood, heh?" Leo chuckled, but abruptly stopped noticing his neighbor wasn't growing angry as he customarily did when Leo expressed enthusiasm about injuries or even possible death that the wizard could face. The muggle cleared his throat. "Well then…are you sure you're all right?"
The wizard, however, wasn't paying attention at all, even now that Leo was expressing genuine concern (which was a very rare occasion). Instead, he listened to the almost indecipherable and inaudible whispers ringing in his head and continued to star at the stars.
"The constellations are changing…I see the stars - they are being rearranged." Leo let out a nervous chuckle.
"Um, the stars are kind of stuck where they are…aren't they? Hold on! Does this have to do with some evil magic of something of that sort?" Leo turned back up towards the sky, but instantly frowned." "Hmm…I don't know what you're looking at, but those stars are pretty immobile up there." The wizard was still not listening as the whispers grew louder in his head. Suddenly, one rang out clearly; It is time.
"It is time," he repeated.
"For…what? Bed?" questioned Leo, growing more puzzled with each passing minute as he watched his neighbor step off his porch and onto the grass.
"I am going for a walk," the wizard told the muggle, seemingly forcing his eyes from the twilight sky.
"A walk? Now? In this heat?" interrogated Leo, wiping his own brow of the beads of sweat that formed. The wizard ignored him and began his walk towards the front lawn of his house. "HELLO?! It's near midnight! And you're wearing those ridiculous robes!" The wizard continued on and Leo was force to lean a bit over the fence in order to watch him near the sidewalk. "Come on! Will you just go to bed? Or, you can some safe spell from the comfort of you own home!" Leo sighed frustrated and went on, "You know, I really have nothing against wiz-I mean ' your kind'-but you! You're just a nut case! Giving up, he let out another exasperated sigh before finally calling, "Well, goodnight. See you in the morning." and he treaded back reluctantly to his home.
The wizard reached the sidewalk and began walking along it, swaying and stumbling a bit as he went.
"I have to, I have to," he mumbled to himself, "The stars are changing." Now that he was alone with his thoughts, the rest of the street asleep, the whispers grew louder inside his head. Although incomprehensible, the wizard understood. "I will, I will. I know what I have to do."
He staggered onward, midnight growing closer and closer. A layer of sweat formed on his skin, causing his robes to cling to his body. It didn't him, though; he was focusing on other things. Several minutes passed. Finally the wizard had emerged from the streets fill with suburban homes to find himself before a small grass covered hill.
He began climbing upwards, sweating more and caring less for he had a job to do. Reaching the top, he leaned against the lone tree breathing heavily. Then, he pulled out his golden pocket watch, staring at the seconds tick by, It read 11:56 pm. He watched a little longer before putting it away. Go to her. Go to her, the whispers were now clear, The ritual must commence. You know what you must do.
"Yes…" trailed off the wizard. Then, for the first time that evening, he snapped out of his daze. "No, I cannot do this. It's-"
Destiny, hissed the whisper, the word echoing in the wizard's mind The wizard returned to is daze with this, nodding slowly in comprehension. Now go to her and use her blood.
"Yes, yes…it is time," replied the wizard and by midnight, the wizard had disappeared from the hill, leaving not a trace that it was magic that allowed him to vanish or that he was even there at all.
Harry's birthday had been over for exactly a minute, almost utterly forgotten. He was surprised he had even remembered it. It wasn't as if the Dursley's ever acknowledged it. In fact, that July 31 had been a particular horrible day for Harry at his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's home. Dudley, his cousin, was sick (although Harry was sure he wasn't as ill as he pretended to be). So, Harry spent his birthday catering to Dudley, who laid in bed and watched TV, and forcing himself to be polite while Aunt Petunia spoiled his cousin.
However, by mid-afternoon, Harry lost his patience and his temper. Not until after the fact did Harry realize that deliberately dropping Dudley's lunch all over Dudley's lap wasn't the brightest ideas and he had to endure his Aunt's screaming before she threw him outside in the merciless heat to do chores for the rest of the afternoon. Harry tended to the hedges, pulled weeds, and mowed the lawn, the sun beating down on him, until his Uncle Vernon. Then, he really got it.
Harry had been sure he'd go deaf if he had to listen to his uncle's booming voice for another second when he was finally sent to bed without and dinner. He didn't mind, though; he was just grateful to be left to himself. Now, he worked on his summer homework, given to him by his teachers at Hogwarts' School of witchcraft and wizardry. He wished he didn't have to wait until so late to work on it, but he couldn't do anything that remotely reminded his muggle guardians that he was a wizard. However, Harry knew it was safe to take out his quill, parchment, and test books as he heard Dudley's obnoxious snores from next door.
Yawning, Harry finally decided to put his work away, which he hid beneath a floorboard under his bed, too tired to continue. Getting up to stretch, body aching all over, Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and headed towards the window. He yawned again as he opened it, hoping there would be a cool breeze, but all there was was hot, stuffy air.
Harry stood by the window a few moments, gazing up at the stars. Suddenly something caught his attention and Harry squinted to see. Soon, however, he shook his head, believing his sleepy eyes were playing tricks on him, walked away from the open window and crawled into bed. Harry, mind still on the starry sky as he drifted to sleep, decided he really must be tired, because for a second, he thought he saw the stars moving.
That night, Harry had a dream. A dream so real that Harry could have sworn it was true. Or, it could have been true, if only…if only his parents really were alive.
Harry was living away from the muggle world, where it wasn't necessary for him to hide his identity. His home was really his home and he never ever slept in a cupboard, but in his own room since he was an infant. There was no Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia or Dudley; just him and his mother and his father.
Harry and James Potter were outside as the sun set and stood there, with the stars and the moon as their only light. Soaring above their year, Harry using the brand new broom his parents gave him for his birthday, the two raced each other in a friendly father-son competition.
"Are you two ever coming down?" called a voice from the ground. It was Harry's mother, Lily Potter, with kind, youthful, green eyes, identical to Harry's. "You've been up there for hours!"
"We will, Lily! We will," shouted James back, brushing her off. With his dark, usual unkempt black hair and glasses, James Potter was definitely the father of Harry. He grinned as he took a daring steep dive, coming within inches of colliding with the ground before pulling up.
"Show off!" teased Lily with a laugh.
"Am I now? And here I thought I was being impressive!"
"Maybe, but you know I've been watching you two, and it's only a matter of time before Harry starts out doing you both on his broom and with his wand!" stated Lily, with a smirk. Harry smiled widely at the compliment.
"Really?" His father continued the conversation, looking over at Harry with his own smile. "Well, like father like son!"
"Yes, well, it's about time for both father and son to get themselves inside."
"But mum!" Harry finally spoke. "Can we please have five more minutes?"
""Now, come on Harry. It is getting late. Besides, Uncle Sirius will be here any minute with you cake and too many gifts for your own good!" she reminded him with a soft laugh. Although, Harry had no idea who Uncle Sirius actually was, in his dream he was extremely happy to hear that Uncle Sirius-whoever he was-was coming over.
"Oh, all right, Lily. We'll be right down," gave in James finally.
"You know, James, you don't always have to make me out as the bad guy," stated Harry's mother.
"Well, somebody has to be," he chuckled and Lily gave him a loving smile.
""Just hurry up in," she finally said warmly and disappeared inside the house through the back door.
"Come on, Harry." James flew over to him. "We'd better get a move on. You're mother's right; your godfather will be here any minute with your cake and all, and you need to get cleaned up." He then grinned. "Besides, your mother will kill me if I keep you out here any longer."
"All right, Dad," said Harry. He did want to see Uncle Sirius, but he wasn't ready to get off his new broom just yet, so he quickly added, "Can I just have one more around the yard?"
"Well, I don't see anything wrong with that." James smirked. "But if your mother gets at me, it's your fault." James then swooped down towards the ground.
"Thanks, dad!" called Harry after him as his father got off his broom.
"Just hurry up in!" he called back before disappearing into the house himself. Harry circled the yard, wishing for a cool breeze, but there was nothing but the humid air. Wiping his forehead of sweat, Harry ignored the uncomfortable heat as he did the rest of the day, enjoying his new broom and his birthday too much.
As Harry got ready to head in, he took a moment to stare up at the evening sky, still mounted in the air on his broom. The glittering stars immediately caught his attention, almost entrancing him. "Harry!" he could hear his mother calling, but it seemed distant. His eyes were fixed on the stars; the stars which had suddenly began to move. Harry didn't blink as he watched the stars rearrange themselves right before his eyes.
And then, everything changed. Harry felt as if his spirit was being lifted from his body as everything was engulfed in black darkness around him and the echoing voices of his parents rang in the distance. All of a sudden, Harry felt himself fighting - fighting to stay in the world with his parents and his new broom and whoever Uncle Sirius was. Where his birthday was acknowledged and there were nod Dursleys and he could be himself and where he had no lighting shaped scar given to him by a dark wizard named Voldemort when he was only an infant.
His scar had reappeared on his forehead and was burning terribly. However, Harry wasn't thinking about it. No, he thought frantically, don't take them from me. Please don't take them from me!
It was useless, though. Things grew white around Harry as he was completely separated from the world and his parents. Soon, Harry himself was submerged in the whiteness, his pleading futile, and he found himself reliving his parent's death at the hands of Voldemort. But everything was a blur for Harry of things that were and would've been. He tried to grasp on to the dream, on his hopes, on his prayers and to push aside the truth and reality of his life. Gut it all came at once, overwhelming Harry greatly. Then there was the immense green light that swallowed him.
Harry woke with a jerk, crying and sobbing, tears streaking down his cheeks. Drenched in a cold sweat, Harry wiped his stinging eyes with shaking hands. His whole body was trembling and his scar burned on his forehead.
It had been to much for Harry. Seeing his parents, so full of life, hurt him more than he could have imagined. He wanted to be flying his broom with his father and he wanted to hear his mother calling to him. He just wanted his mother and father near him to hold him and love him. He wanted it to be real so badly-all of it-that his soul ached for it.
Putting on his glasses, he saw through blurred eyes that birthday presents-most likely from Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid-had been left beside his bed. On any other birthday, Harry would've been ecstatic to see all the gifts for him, but at that moment he didn't care. It didn't seem important in a world where Harry was without his parents.
He fell back on his bed, calming down a bit, but still slightly shaken and his skin still clammy. He curled up on his side, trying his best to fall back asleep. But his eyes were tearing up again, and he began to hate everything; the Dursleys, Privet Drive, Voldemort, his life. If only the dream had been the reality. It seemed like it could have been, if only his parents hadn't been killed. Closing his eyes tightly, he was sure he'd see an image of his parents smiling at him or of their murder but instead he just saw a vision of a sky with moving stars.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything like that.
*Also, in Chapter 2, I stole the name "Schmendrick" from the Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle. I really liked the name so I wanted to use it. My Schmendrick MIGHT have similar character traits to the one in the book (I'm not really sure), just to inform anyone who's curious, I suppose.
Harry Potter and the Creator of Destinies
Chapter 1: Moving Stars
That July 31 was as hot as ever a summer day had been in the suburban British town. The sun had set hour before, but the muggy humid weather lingered on, making the outside almost unbearable.
The muggles of the town had mostly gone lazily to sleep, but he did not. Instead, he stood outside on his porch, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he stared up at the stars. It was nearing midnight and the man was growing extremely hot under his ropes. Yet, he still stood gazing at the evening sky overhead.
In the town, the man who stood dazed upon his porch was talked about very much. He wasn't like them and they knew it. But what was it that made him so peculiar? So odd? So suspicious? This the man kept a mystery, rarely socializing with the people of the town and keeping to himself most of the time. After all, the ignorant muggles would never be able to accept that he was a wizard.
However, there was one muggle who knew the truth and he had suddenly exited his neighboring home through the back door.
The muggle started trotting his way across the lawn to the fence that separated the two houses, wearing only his pajamas and a pair of slippers. He had golden blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore a cocky grin.
"What are you doing out here so late in this heat? I was just ready to go to bed and I saw you standing out here through the window…hey, nice dress you go on," he commented in sarcastic reference to his dark robes, "Very stylish." He let out a laugh but the wizard did not look down at his neighbor. Although he was aware that policy set forth by the Ministry of Magic prohibited him from allowing a muggle to know who he really was, the wizard on the porch could not bring himself to use a memory charm on his neighbor. He was lonely and even though the two bickered greatly and his blonde neighbor proved to be more of a nuisance than a friend, consistently criticizing and annoying him, the wizard had to admit he enjoyed the company of anyone to no one.
However, it was the muggle growing annoyed now, not accustomed to being ignored so blatantly. "HELLO?! Well, what the ruddy are you looking at?" He awaited an answer, but his impatience got the best of him in a matter of seconds. "Let me guess; your brain turned off again!" The muggle now laughed, amused by his own humor
"It's nothing, Leo," replied the wizard quite unexpectedly, but he did not take his eyes off the stars. Leo glared at him quizzically, a look of perplexity on his face for he had expected his wizard friend to become immediately defensive, as he usually did when he ridiculed him. After a few moments of waiting for a reaction, Leo glanced up, trying to determine what his neighbor was actually staring at.
"Ok…so, seriously, what are we looking at, 'cause I'm not seeing anything," he stated, squinting a bit to see in the dim light.
"The stars," answered the wizard, as if talking to himself, his gaze never leaving the sky. "They move." Leo's eyes averted warily back to his neighbor, struggling to see him in the dark shadows.
"Right…sure…" he trailed off a bit awkwardly. "Are you sure you're feeling ok, buddy?" Maybe it's the heat. You should be inside where it's cool. Get some rest. You know?" The wizard did not say anything. "What is it? The apocalypse?" continued Leo. Still no answer. "Well, if it is, let me know, will you? I'd love to see you have to perform some painful sacrificial ritual to save the world or whatever it is you weirdoes-I mean wizards-do." Breaking into hysterics for the third time, Leo was startled to hear the wizard speak again.
"Sacrifice…yes, the sacrifice. The ritual." Leo glared at him again, before a smile crept across his face.
"Sacrifice? really?" he questioned, excited, and then raised an eyebrow. "This means you're finally going to spill some blood, heh?" Leo chuckled, but abruptly stopped noticing his neighbor wasn't growing angry as he customarily did when Leo expressed enthusiasm about injuries or even possible death that the wizard could face. The muggle cleared his throat. "Well then…are you sure you're all right?"
The wizard, however, wasn't paying attention at all, even now that Leo was expressing genuine concern (which was a very rare occasion). Instead, he listened to the almost indecipherable and inaudible whispers ringing in his head and continued to star at the stars.
"The constellations are changing…I see the stars - they are being rearranged." Leo let out a nervous chuckle.
"Um, the stars are kind of stuck where they are…aren't they? Hold on! Does this have to do with some evil magic of something of that sort?" Leo turned back up towards the sky, but instantly frowned." "Hmm…I don't know what you're looking at, but those stars are pretty immobile up there." The wizard was still not listening as the whispers grew louder in his head. Suddenly, one rang out clearly; It is time.
"It is time," he repeated.
"For…what? Bed?" questioned Leo, growing more puzzled with each passing minute as he watched his neighbor step off his porch and onto the grass.
"I am going for a walk," the wizard told the muggle, seemingly forcing his eyes from the twilight sky.
"A walk? Now? In this heat?" interrogated Leo, wiping his own brow of the beads of sweat that formed. The wizard ignored him and began his walk towards the front lawn of his house. "HELLO?! It's near midnight! And you're wearing those ridiculous robes!" The wizard continued on and Leo was force to lean a bit over the fence in order to watch him near the sidewalk. "Come on! Will you just go to bed? Or, you can some safe spell from the comfort of you own home!" Leo sighed frustrated and went on, "You know, I really have nothing against wiz-I mean ' your kind'-but you! You're just a nut case! Giving up, he let out another exasperated sigh before finally calling, "Well, goodnight. See you in the morning." and he treaded back reluctantly to his home.
The wizard reached the sidewalk and began walking along it, swaying and stumbling a bit as he went.
"I have to, I have to," he mumbled to himself, "The stars are changing." Now that he was alone with his thoughts, the rest of the street asleep, the whispers grew louder inside his head. Although incomprehensible, the wizard understood. "I will, I will. I know what I have to do."
He staggered onward, midnight growing closer and closer. A layer of sweat formed on his skin, causing his robes to cling to his body. It didn't him, though; he was focusing on other things. Several minutes passed. Finally the wizard had emerged from the streets fill with suburban homes to find himself before a small grass covered hill.
He began climbing upwards, sweating more and caring less for he had a job to do. Reaching the top, he leaned against the lone tree breathing heavily. Then, he pulled out his golden pocket watch, staring at the seconds tick by, It read 11:56 pm. He watched a little longer before putting it away. Go to her. Go to her, the whispers were now clear, The ritual must commence. You know what you must do.
"Yes…" trailed off the wizard. Then, for the first time that evening, he snapped out of his daze. "No, I cannot do this. It's-"
Destiny, hissed the whisper, the word echoing in the wizard's mind The wizard returned to is daze with this, nodding slowly in comprehension. Now go to her and use her blood.
"Yes, yes…it is time," replied the wizard and by midnight, the wizard had disappeared from the hill, leaving not a trace that it was magic that allowed him to vanish or that he was even there at all.
Harry's birthday had been over for exactly a minute, almost utterly forgotten. He was surprised he had even remembered it. It wasn't as if the Dursley's ever acknowledged it. In fact, that July 31 had been a particular horrible day for Harry at his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's home. Dudley, his cousin, was sick (although Harry was sure he wasn't as ill as he pretended to be). So, Harry spent his birthday catering to Dudley, who laid in bed and watched TV, and forcing himself to be polite while Aunt Petunia spoiled his cousin.
However, by mid-afternoon, Harry lost his patience and his temper. Not until after the fact did Harry realize that deliberately dropping Dudley's lunch all over Dudley's lap wasn't the brightest ideas and he had to endure his Aunt's screaming before she threw him outside in the merciless heat to do chores for the rest of the afternoon. Harry tended to the hedges, pulled weeds, and mowed the lawn, the sun beating down on him, until his Uncle Vernon. Then, he really got it.
Harry had been sure he'd go deaf if he had to listen to his uncle's booming voice for another second when he was finally sent to bed without and dinner. He didn't mind, though; he was just grateful to be left to himself. Now, he worked on his summer homework, given to him by his teachers at Hogwarts' School of witchcraft and wizardry. He wished he didn't have to wait until so late to work on it, but he couldn't do anything that remotely reminded his muggle guardians that he was a wizard. However, Harry knew it was safe to take out his quill, parchment, and test books as he heard Dudley's obnoxious snores from next door.
Yawning, Harry finally decided to put his work away, which he hid beneath a floorboard under his bed, too tired to continue. Getting up to stretch, body aching all over, Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and headed towards the window. He yawned again as he opened it, hoping there would be a cool breeze, but all there was was hot, stuffy air.
Harry stood by the window a few moments, gazing up at the stars. Suddenly something caught his attention and Harry squinted to see. Soon, however, he shook his head, believing his sleepy eyes were playing tricks on him, walked away from the open window and crawled into bed. Harry, mind still on the starry sky as he drifted to sleep, decided he really must be tired, because for a second, he thought he saw the stars moving.
That night, Harry had a dream. A dream so real that Harry could have sworn it was true. Or, it could have been true, if only…if only his parents really were alive.
Harry was living away from the muggle world, where it wasn't necessary for him to hide his identity. His home was really his home and he never ever slept in a cupboard, but in his own room since he was an infant. There was no Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia or Dudley; just him and his mother and his father.
Harry and James Potter were outside as the sun set and stood there, with the stars and the moon as their only light. Soaring above their year, Harry using the brand new broom his parents gave him for his birthday, the two raced each other in a friendly father-son competition.
"Are you two ever coming down?" called a voice from the ground. It was Harry's mother, Lily Potter, with kind, youthful, green eyes, identical to Harry's. "You've been up there for hours!"
"We will, Lily! We will," shouted James back, brushing her off. With his dark, usual unkempt black hair and glasses, James Potter was definitely the father of Harry. He grinned as he took a daring steep dive, coming within inches of colliding with the ground before pulling up.
"Show off!" teased Lily with a laugh.
"Am I now? And here I thought I was being impressive!"
"Maybe, but you know I've been watching you two, and it's only a matter of time before Harry starts out doing you both on his broom and with his wand!" stated Lily, with a smirk. Harry smiled widely at the compliment.
"Really?" His father continued the conversation, looking over at Harry with his own smile. "Well, like father like son!"
"Yes, well, it's about time for both father and son to get themselves inside."
"But mum!" Harry finally spoke. "Can we please have five more minutes?"
""Now, come on Harry. It is getting late. Besides, Uncle Sirius will be here any minute with you cake and too many gifts for your own good!" she reminded him with a soft laugh. Although, Harry had no idea who Uncle Sirius actually was, in his dream he was extremely happy to hear that Uncle Sirius-whoever he was-was coming over.
"Oh, all right, Lily. We'll be right down," gave in James finally.
"You know, James, you don't always have to make me out as the bad guy," stated Harry's mother.
"Well, somebody has to be," he chuckled and Lily gave him a loving smile.
""Just hurry up in," she finally said warmly and disappeared inside the house through the back door.
"Come on, Harry." James flew over to him. "We'd better get a move on. You're mother's right; your godfather will be here any minute with your cake and all, and you need to get cleaned up." He then grinned. "Besides, your mother will kill me if I keep you out here any longer."
"All right, Dad," said Harry. He did want to see Uncle Sirius, but he wasn't ready to get off his new broom just yet, so he quickly added, "Can I just have one more around the yard?"
"Well, I don't see anything wrong with that." James smirked. "But if your mother gets at me, it's your fault." James then swooped down towards the ground.
"Thanks, dad!" called Harry after him as his father got off his broom.
"Just hurry up in!" he called back before disappearing into the house himself. Harry circled the yard, wishing for a cool breeze, but there was nothing but the humid air. Wiping his forehead of sweat, Harry ignored the uncomfortable heat as he did the rest of the day, enjoying his new broom and his birthday too much.
As Harry got ready to head in, he took a moment to stare up at the evening sky, still mounted in the air on his broom. The glittering stars immediately caught his attention, almost entrancing him. "Harry!" he could hear his mother calling, but it seemed distant. His eyes were fixed on the stars; the stars which had suddenly began to move. Harry didn't blink as he watched the stars rearrange themselves right before his eyes.
And then, everything changed. Harry felt as if his spirit was being lifted from his body as everything was engulfed in black darkness around him and the echoing voices of his parents rang in the distance. All of a sudden, Harry felt himself fighting - fighting to stay in the world with his parents and his new broom and whoever Uncle Sirius was. Where his birthday was acknowledged and there were nod Dursleys and he could be himself and where he had no lighting shaped scar given to him by a dark wizard named Voldemort when he was only an infant.
His scar had reappeared on his forehead and was burning terribly. However, Harry wasn't thinking about it. No, he thought frantically, don't take them from me. Please don't take them from me!
It was useless, though. Things grew white around Harry as he was completely separated from the world and his parents. Soon, Harry himself was submerged in the whiteness, his pleading futile, and he found himself reliving his parent's death at the hands of Voldemort. But everything was a blur for Harry of things that were and would've been. He tried to grasp on to the dream, on his hopes, on his prayers and to push aside the truth and reality of his life. Gut it all came at once, overwhelming Harry greatly. Then there was the immense green light that swallowed him.
Harry woke with a jerk, crying and sobbing, tears streaking down his cheeks. Drenched in a cold sweat, Harry wiped his stinging eyes with shaking hands. His whole body was trembling and his scar burned on his forehead.
It had been to much for Harry. Seeing his parents, so full of life, hurt him more than he could have imagined. He wanted to be flying his broom with his father and he wanted to hear his mother calling to him. He just wanted his mother and father near him to hold him and love him. He wanted it to be real so badly-all of it-that his soul ached for it.
Putting on his glasses, he saw through blurred eyes that birthday presents-most likely from Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid-had been left beside his bed. On any other birthday, Harry would've been ecstatic to see all the gifts for him, but at that moment he didn't care. It didn't seem important in a world where Harry was without his parents.
He fell back on his bed, calming down a bit, but still slightly shaken and his skin still clammy. He curled up on his side, trying his best to fall back asleep. But his eyes were tearing up again, and he began to hate everything; the Dursleys, Privet Drive, Voldemort, his life. If only the dream had been the reality. It seemed like it could have been, if only his parents hadn't been killed. Closing his eyes tightly, he was sure he'd see an image of his parents smiling at him or of their murder but instead he just saw a vision of a sky with moving stars.