Chapter 3
Harry looked around, bewildered. Where was he now? He looked closely at the couple in bed before him. In the dim light, he could just make out one dark head and one lighter colored - red probably - their faces obscured by the bedclothes. Was he in his parents' bedroom now?
Where the living room had been welcoming, but somewhat sparse, their bedroom was much more cosy - and crowded, he observed, offering more of glimpse of the occupants themselves. Aside from the large fourposter bed, there were two matching bedside tables, each overflowing with books, and two dressers. Over in a corner alcove, surrounded by windows, was a large comfortable looking chair and a low bookshelf crammed with even more books.
The room had a definite lived in, homey feel to it. Clothes were piled on what he guessed was his father's dresser, waiting to be put away. A robe was draped across the room's only chair, and several pairs of shoes were peeking out from the foot of the bed. Harry had to hold in a laugh when he noticed the broomstick resting in the corner. Apparently he wasn't the only one who didn't like leaving his broomstick in the cupboard. A pile of clothes near the broomstick looked to be a set of Quidditch robes and pads, much to Harry's surprise. He wasn't aware that his father had played after Hogwarts.
On impulse he decided to investigate his father's bedside table, hoping to learn something more about him. Even though he was fairly certain that they wouldn't be able to see him or hear him, Harry tread as quietly as possible. There were several books on Quidditch, a book on parenting ('A Wizard's Guide to Surviving Magical Offspring', by M. Gooze) an issue of a comic that Harry didn't recognize, and two muggle news magazines. It seemed that he and his father had the same taste in reading material - the parenting book not withstanding.
He was just moving to inspect the items on the dresser when he heard the patter of little feet out in the hall. Glancing towards the open doorway he saw a dark haired child run down the hall and then disappear from sight. From the sound of the soft thumps he guessed that the child was going down a set of stairs.
Was that me? Harry wondered in shock. He hadn't been around children much in his life, but if he had to guess, he'd say that the little boy was a year or two older than the fifteen months he had been when his parents had been killed.
He had seen his past. Was he now seeing what could have been?
Before he could really think of the implications a small voice started crying, "Me too! Me too! Mama!" from a room nearby. His mother shifted on the bed and Harry froze despite the fact that he knew it was all a dream. Old habits died hard, and he had been looking through their stuff; he couldn't help the feeling of guilt that washed hit him.
"Harry," she mumbled, her voice deep with sleep. Harry's heart started beating rapidly. Was she talking to him or did she think the little boy was in the room? "Harry," she repeated a bit louder, causing his father to shift. "Jamie's up and Carolyn's getting upset."
Jamie? Who's Jamie? Harry wondered. He assumed that Carolyn was the little child who was now crying. Did he have a little sister? And had that little boy not been him, but his little brother? Harry didn't know whether he felt happy to know what his life would have been like if his parents hadn't died, or sick. To know what he had missed because of Voldemort.....
"Harry! Wake up!" his mother's voice cut through his revelrey, making him jump. He was confused. Was she talking to him....or, the thought suddenly dawned on him....were they not his parents at all?
"Wha...?" the man he had thought was his father sat up abruptly, causing the woman to chuckle softly.
"Jamie's up. I don't want him getting into the presents," she told him, "and your daughter is upset. Can you take care of them, please?"
"Yeah, sure," the man mumbled, leaning over to embarce his wife. "How are you feeling?" Harry heard the sound of them kissing softly.
"I'm fine," the woman replied. Was it his mother? He was confused now. Her voice didn't sound quite like what he remembered from his earlier dream, but it was still familiar. Harry watched as her hand carressed the man's bare back, eventually coming to rest in his hair. He blushed at the intimacy he was witnessing, watching as they kissed each other good morning.
The crying of young Carolyn became louder and the man sighed, his head dropping to the woman's chest. She laughed. "Duty calls," he said, though he didn't sound too upset. With one last quick kiss the man rolled out of bed and Harry found himself standing face to face with.....himself.
He forgot to breath as he watched his older self shrug into a night shirt and then put on his glasses. Absently the man brushed his hair out of his eyes and Harry saw his...their...the...scar on his forehead. He was maybe 10 years older, but Harry knew that he was staring at himself. His jaw dropped. He wasn't in his parent's room, he was in his own room. And he hadn't been watching his parents kiss...he had been watching himself and his...wife.
"What time is everyone coming?" his older self asked as he dug out his slippers from under the bed.
The woman...his wife...stretched, her face obscurred by her hair. "Mum and dad should be here by eight...the others too, I think," she replied, rolling onto her side, facing away from where Harry stood watching.
The older Harry sat on the bed, stroking his wife's hair, a look of total contentment on his face. "You'll be down soon?"
"Yes," she said with a laugh, pushing him off the bed. "Now go rescue your daughter!"
Soon Harry heard himself talking softly to the little girl, Carolyn. "So Miss Caro, did Jamie leave you behind?" The little girl crowed happily.
"Up! Up! Daddy!" he little voice demanded, no hint of the tears she had been crying just moments before.
His older self laughed. "Come here you little pixie. Happy Christmas, Caro. Now can daddy have a kiss?" Harry heard a loud smacking sound and a small giggle.
Soon the two appeared in the doorway, a dark headed figure in a red bathrobe with a small pink clad little girl in his arms. From the dim light in the hall Harry could only see an abundance of curls, unsure whether the girl was blond, light brown...or perhaps red like her mother.
'I'm a father,' Harry thought in awe. 'Well...I will be. Someday.' The thought made him feel warm inside. He had never thought much about becoming a father. He was only 17 after all, and most of his time was taken up with school and trying to survive. He could barely bring himself to think about what he was going to do once he left Hogwarts this coming summer, let alone contemplate getting married. In the back of his mind he had always thought someday...and now that someday was staring him in the face.
Wasn't it?
It was all so confusing. Was this the future? He had seen his past - his first Christmas. It was what he had wished for in the Weasley's living room. And later he had wished for a family of his own. Since he wouldn't have any more Christmases with his parents, was he now being shown his very own family; wife, children, and apparently, in-laws too?
The squealing of the children interrupted his thoughts, and soon more voices were heard calling out Happy Christmas. Obviously his wife's family was starting to arrive.
His wife.....
He eyes flashed to the woman on the bed, seeing only a curly mop of red hair. He had almost forgotten about her in the shock of seeing himself. There was something very familiar about that particular shade of hair, he realized, his stomach clenching. Did he marry....?
"Hey sleepy head!" his voice called up from downstairs. "Your mum's here."
"Be right down," his wife called back, finally sitting up, her back to Harry. The suspense was killing him. He wanted to see her face, but it didn't really matter, because Harry had recognized the voice. It was a bit huskier than he was used to, but the hair...the voice...it could be no one else. Harry felt his checks flush and his heart speed up.
She stood then and grabbed her robe. Harry braced himself, holding in his breath. When she finally turned to make the bed he let out a shocked gasp. Not only was he married to Ginny, but she was also pregnant. He could see the bulge of her stomach through her untied robe. Harry was surprised by the wave of possessiveness that ran through him at the sight of her.
He was married to Ginny and they had two, almost three children. Wow. His mind just couldn't seem to grasp this fact as he continued to watch Ginny tidy up the room, humming softly to herself. His mind couldn't understand, but his heart didn't seem to be having the same problem. He could feel it pounding loudly in his chest, almost bursting with...what? Love? Pride? Contentment? The feeling was almost primal and possessive when he looked at Ginny's slightly rounded stomach. They had...she was...a part of them both...wow. He shook his head in wonder.
"So my dears," Ginny said softly, rubbing her stomach, a soft smile on her face. "Ready to go give your daddy his Christmas surprise?"
Harry's jaw dropped. 'My dears?' his mind repeated. 'Christmas surprise?' Was she carrying twins? Without thinking Harry moved to follow her down the stairs, never talking his eyes of her slim form. From behind he couldn't even tell that she was pregnant.
Once down the stairs he soon lost Ginny in a sea of redheads. It seemed that the Weasley's had arrived - en masse. Mr. Weasley had lost a bit more hair, but his face was wrinkled with laughter rather than worry. There was a lot of grey hairs intermixed in Mrs. Weasley's red hair, but she looked as happy as he'd ever seen her, holding one of her grandchildren and surrounded by several others. There were atleast a half dozen small children running around. Mostly red heads, but there were a few brown and one black. Harry tried to get a good look at the black haired little boy racing around in his pajamas but he was moving too fast chasing after one of his cousins. Harry couldn't hold back his grin.
He caught sight of Bill and Charlie across the room. Neither had changed much. Bill still had his pony tail and earring, and Charlie was wearing a very nice pair of dragon skin pants. Harry was surprised when a petite blond woman handed a young child, maybe a year old, to Charlie, kissed him and walked through another door leading to what had to be the kitchen. So, Charlie finally found someone to brave the wilds of Romania with, Harry thought with a smile.
His mouth dropped open as another woman he was pretty sure he recognized opened the door to the kitchen and shooed out two identical girls, maybe five years old, familiar mischevious grins on their face. It could be none other than Angelina.
"George!" she called across the room, causing two identical heads to pop up from behind Christmas tree. "Will you keep an eye on these two please? Breakfast is almost ready and I don't need to be tripping over them!"
One of twins smiled. "Yes, dear," he said. Grinning he waved the little girls over. "Maddie, Abby, come and help daddy and Uncle Fred!" So, George and Angelina had gotten married. That must be an interesting story. Last he remembered, Fred was dating Angelina. Harry looked about the room searching for someone who might have married Fred. It just didn't seem right that one twin was married and the other wasn't.
Scanning the room, Percy caught his eye. He looked a lot like his father, Harry was surprised to note. His hair was thinning and there were more lines on his face then he would have expected from someone in their early thirties. Percy always did take his work seriously and maybe it was finally wearing him down a bit. The worry lines disappeared when a pretty woman sat down next to him, holding a small infant. The woman looked familiar, she must have gone to Hogwarts, but Harry could not think of her name.
So, Mr and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie and his wife, Percy and his wife (what was her name?!), George and Angelina, and Fred had all arrived. And there were more than a half dozen kids running around. It was a good thing the living room was a large one or they never would have all fit. As it was it was noisier than a circus. Harry loved it.
He watched his older self converse quietly with Mr. Weasly, all the while keeping an eye on the two little boys, one was Jamie, who were racing around the room. He looked happy and in his element. He supposed that 4 or 5 years of being surrounded by Weasleys could do that to a person. The only one missing was....
As soon as the thought entered his mind the door bell rang. Fred popped up from behind the tree, a grin on his face. "Ah, the newlyweds have arrived!"
Percy's wife stood up and laughed. "Honestly Fred," she said, moving towards the door and narrowly missing the two boys followed closely by George's twin girls. "They've been married for over a year now. That's hardly newlyweds." She opened the door.
"Ho Ho Ho!" a loud, jolly voice called out. Every single child in the room froze and turned towards the door. The faces fell only slightly when Ron entered the room.
Cries of: "Uncle Ron! Uncle Ron!" echoed through the room as the children ran up to him and attached themselves to his legs. He managed to struggle into the room and a hooded figure followed him in, closing the door firmly behind them.
Ron laughed as he handed his cloak to Percy's wife, and then lifted the two little boys into his arms. "So, have you been a good boy, Jamie?" The black haired boy nodded solemnly. "And what about you, Brendan? Not been terrorizing your father too much?" Brendan began to nod, but couldn't stop the blush from creeping over his face as he looked sheepishly up at his uncle. "What did you do?" Ron asked, unable to hide his amused grin.
Brendan remained silent, grinning hesitantly around the room as all eyes seemed to be on him.
"I'll tell you what he did," Fred chimed in. "He switched my toothpaste with my shaving cream. Turned my broomstick purple, and charmed the cat so that he barks instead of meows. And that was just in the past two days!" The adults in the room burst into laughter at Fred's affronted look that his son would do such things to him.
"What about you two?" Ron asked the twins still attached to his legs, once he'd gotten his laughter under control. "I suppose you have been angels." The two girls nodded silently up at him, beguiling smiles on their cherubic faces.
"Don't believe a word out of their mouths!" George called accross the room, causing everyone to laugh again.
Ginny came out of the kitchen, her arms wide. "Ron, 'Mione! You're just in time. Breakfast is ready." Harry did a double take as he watched Ginny kiss Ron's cheek and then hug Hermione. It wasn't as much as a shock as Harry had expected to see that Ron and Hermione had married finally. What did cause his mouth to drop open was the sight of Hermione's swollen belly. She was just a little bit bigger than Ginny. Ron was going to be a father, Harry smiled. Well, he seemed perfect for the part. All his nieces and nephews seemed to love him.
Harry watched as Ginny and Hermione whispered conspiratorially together, their eyes sometimes sliding over to his older self who was now talking with Percy and Bill, Charlie's little girl in his arms. The girls giggled and smiled; Ginny shaking her head for a moment, and then nodding at what Hermione had to say.
Ginny stepped into the middle of the room. "Okay, breakfast is ready. So everyone to the dining room. The sooner we eat, the sooner you get to open presents," she reminded the kids. Ron grumbled something and Ginny smacked him on the back the head playfully. "When you host Christmas you can do it your way," she told him good naturedly. "Now get in there and be a good example."
Harry smiled. They had breakfast before presents just like his mum had wanted. He had a family and they had traditions, and there was laughter and love. This was what he had always wanted. He moved to follow everyone into the dining room, but from somewhere he heard his name being called. He looked around.
"Harry," the voice called again, as if from a long distance. "Harry, dear."
And just as quickly, the dream faded away, leaving him with nothing but vague images and a feeling of utter contentment
End?
Harry looked around, bewildered. Where was he now? He looked closely at the couple in bed before him. In the dim light, he could just make out one dark head and one lighter colored - red probably - their faces obscured by the bedclothes. Was he in his parents' bedroom now?
Where the living room had been welcoming, but somewhat sparse, their bedroom was much more cosy - and crowded, he observed, offering more of glimpse of the occupants themselves. Aside from the large fourposter bed, there were two matching bedside tables, each overflowing with books, and two dressers. Over in a corner alcove, surrounded by windows, was a large comfortable looking chair and a low bookshelf crammed with even more books.
The room had a definite lived in, homey feel to it. Clothes were piled on what he guessed was his father's dresser, waiting to be put away. A robe was draped across the room's only chair, and several pairs of shoes were peeking out from the foot of the bed. Harry had to hold in a laugh when he noticed the broomstick resting in the corner. Apparently he wasn't the only one who didn't like leaving his broomstick in the cupboard. A pile of clothes near the broomstick looked to be a set of Quidditch robes and pads, much to Harry's surprise. He wasn't aware that his father had played after Hogwarts.
On impulse he decided to investigate his father's bedside table, hoping to learn something more about him. Even though he was fairly certain that they wouldn't be able to see him or hear him, Harry tread as quietly as possible. There were several books on Quidditch, a book on parenting ('A Wizard's Guide to Surviving Magical Offspring', by M. Gooze) an issue of a comic that Harry didn't recognize, and two muggle news magazines. It seemed that he and his father had the same taste in reading material - the parenting book not withstanding.
He was just moving to inspect the items on the dresser when he heard the patter of little feet out in the hall. Glancing towards the open doorway he saw a dark haired child run down the hall and then disappear from sight. From the sound of the soft thumps he guessed that the child was going down a set of stairs.
Was that me? Harry wondered in shock. He hadn't been around children much in his life, but if he had to guess, he'd say that the little boy was a year or two older than the fifteen months he had been when his parents had been killed.
He had seen his past. Was he now seeing what could have been?
Before he could really think of the implications a small voice started crying, "Me too! Me too! Mama!" from a room nearby. His mother shifted on the bed and Harry froze despite the fact that he knew it was all a dream. Old habits died hard, and he had been looking through their stuff; he couldn't help the feeling of guilt that washed hit him.
"Harry," she mumbled, her voice deep with sleep. Harry's heart started beating rapidly. Was she talking to him or did she think the little boy was in the room? "Harry," she repeated a bit louder, causing his father to shift. "Jamie's up and Carolyn's getting upset."
Jamie? Who's Jamie? Harry wondered. He assumed that Carolyn was the little child who was now crying. Did he have a little sister? And had that little boy not been him, but his little brother? Harry didn't know whether he felt happy to know what his life would have been like if his parents hadn't died, or sick. To know what he had missed because of Voldemort.....
"Harry! Wake up!" his mother's voice cut through his revelrey, making him jump. He was confused. Was she talking to him....or, the thought suddenly dawned on him....were they not his parents at all?
"Wha...?" the man he had thought was his father sat up abruptly, causing the woman to chuckle softly.
"Jamie's up. I don't want him getting into the presents," she told him, "and your daughter is upset. Can you take care of them, please?"
"Yeah, sure," the man mumbled, leaning over to embarce his wife. "How are you feeling?" Harry heard the sound of them kissing softly.
"I'm fine," the woman replied. Was it his mother? He was confused now. Her voice didn't sound quite like what he remembered from his earlier dream, but it was still familiar. Harry watched as her hand carressed the man's bare back, eventually coming to rest in his hair. He blushed at the intimacy he was witnessing, watching as they kissed each other good morning.
The crying of young Carolyn became louder and the man sighed, his head dropping to the woman's chest. She laughed. "Duty calls," he said, though he didn't sound too upset. With one last quick kiss the man rolled out of bed and Harry found himself standing face to face with.....himself.
He forgot to breath as he watched his older self shrug into a night shirt and then put on his glasses. Absently the man brushed his hair out of his eyes and Harry saw his...their...the...scar on his forehead. He was maybe 10 years older, but Harry knew that he was staring at himself. His jaw dropped. He wasn't in his parent's room, he was in his own room. And he hadn't been watching his parents kiss...he had been watching himself and his...wife.
"What time is everyone coming?" his older self asked as he dug out his slippers from under the bed.
The woman...his wife...stretched, her face obscurred by her hair. "Mum and dad should be here by eight...the others too, I think," she replied, rolling onto her side, facing away from where Harry stood watching.
The older Harry sat on the bed, stroking his wife's hair, a look of total contentment on his face. "You'll be down soon?"
"Yes," she said with a laugh, pushing him off the bed. "Now go rescue your daughter!"
Soon Harry heard himself talking softly to the little girl, Carolyn. "So Miss Caro, did Jamie leave you behind?" The little girl crowed happily.
"Up! Up! Daddy!" he little voice demanded, no hint of the tears she had been crying just moments before.
His older self laughed. "Come here you little pixie. Happy Christmas, Caro. Now can daddy have a kiss?" Harry heard a loud smacking sound and a small giggle.
Soon the two appeared in the doorway, a dark headed figure in a red bathrobe with a small pink clad little girl in his arms. From the dim light in the hall Harry could only see an abundance of curls, unsure whether the girl was blond, light brown...or perhaps red like her mother.
'I'm a father,' Harry thought in awe. 'Well...I will be. Someday.' The thought made him feel warm inside. He had never thought much about becoming a father. He was only 17 after all, and most of his time was taken up with school and trying to survive. He could barely bring himself to think about what he was going to do once he left Hogwarts this coming summer, let alone contemplate getting married. In the back of his mind he had always thought someday...and now that someday was staring him in the face.
Wasn't it?
It was all so confusing. Was this the future? He had seen his past - his first Christmas. It was what he had wished for in the Weasley's living room. And later he had wished for a family of his own. Since he wouldn't have any more Christmases with his parents, was he now being shown his very own family; wife, children, and apparently, in-laws too?
The squealing of the children interrupted his thoughts, and soon more voices were heard calling out Happy Christmas. Obviously his wife's family was starting to arrive.
His wife.....
He eyes flashed to the woman on the bed, seeing only a curly mop of red hair. He had almost forgotten about her in the shock of seeing himself. There was something very familiar about that particular shade of hair, he realized, his stomach clenching. Did he marry....?
"Hey sleepy head!" his voice called up from downstairs. "Your mum's here."
"Be right down," his wife called back, finally sitting up, her back to Harry. The suspense was killing him. He wanted to see her face, but it didn't really matter, because Harry had recognized the voice. It was a bit huskier than he was used to, but the hair...the voice...it could be no one else. Harry felt his checks flush and his heart speed up.
She stood then and grabbed her robe. Harry braced himself, holding in his breath. When she finally turned to make the bed he let out a shocked gasp. Not only was he married to Ginny, but she was also pregnant. He could see the bulge of her stomach through her untied robe. Harry was surprised by the wave of possessiveness that ran through him at the sight of her.
He was married to Ginny and they had two, almost three children. Wow. His mind just couldn't seem to grasp this fact as he continued to watch Ginny tidy up the room, humming softly to herself. His mind couldn't understand, but his heart didn't seem to be having the same problem. He could feel it pounding loudly in his chest, almost bursting with...what? Love? Pride? Contentment? The feeling was almost primal and possessive when he looked at Ginny's slightly rounded stomach. They had...she was...a part of them both...wow. He shook his head in wonder.
"So my dears," Ginny said softly, rubbing her stomach, a soft smile on her face. "Ready to go give your daddy his Christmas surprise?"
Harry's jaw dropped. 'My dears?' his mind repeated. 'Christmas surprise?' Was she carrying twins? Without thinking Harry moved to follow her down the stairs, never talking his eyes of her slim form. From behind he couldn't even tell that she was pregnant.
Once down the stairs he soon lost Ginny in a sea of redheads. It seemed that the Weasley's had arrived - en masse. Mr. Weasley had lost a bit more hair, but his face was wrinkled with laughter rather than worry. There was a lot of grey hairs intermixed in Mrs. Weasley's red hair, but she looked as happy as he'd ever seen her, holding one of her grandchildren and surrounded by several others. There were atleast a half dozen small children running around. Mostly red heads, but there were a few brown and one black. Harry tried to get a good look at the black haired little boy racing around in his pajamas but he was moving too fast chasing after one of his cousins. Harry couldn't hold back his grin.
He caught sight of Bill and Charlie across the room. Neither had changed much. Bill still had his pony tail and earring, and Charlie was wearing a very nice pair of dragon skin pants. Harry was surprised when a petite blond woman handed a young child, maybe a year old, to Charlie, kissed him and walked through another door leading to what had to be the kitchen. So, Charlie finally found someone to brave the wilds of Romania with, Harry thought with a smile.
His mouth dropped open as another woman he was pretty sure he recognized opened the door to the kitchen and shooed out two identical girls, maybe five years old, familiar mischevious grins on their face. It could be none other than Angelina.
"George!" she called across the room, causing two identical heads to pop up from behind Christmas tree. "Will you keep an eye on these two please? Breakfast is almost ready and I don't need to be tripping over them!"
One of twins smiled. "Yes, dear," he said. Grinning he waved the little girls over. "Maddie, Abby, come and help daddy and Uncle Fred!" So, George and Angelina had gotten married. That must be an interesting story. Last he remembered, Fred was dating Angelina. Harry looked about the room searching for someone who might have married Fred. It just didn't seem right that one twin was married and the other wasn't.
Scanning the room, Percy caught his eye. He looked a lot like his father, Harry was surprised to note. His hair was thinning and there were more lines on his face then he would have expected from someone in their early thirties. Percy always did take his work seriously and maybe it was finally wearing him down a bit. The worry lines disappeared when a pretty woman sat down next to him, holding a small infant. The woman looked familiar, she must have gone to Hogwarts, but Harry could not think of her name.
So, Mr and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie and his wife, Percy and his wife (what was her name?!), George and Angelina, and Fred had all arrived. And there were more than a half dozen kids running around. It was a good thing the living room was a large one or they never would have all fit. As it was it was noisier than a circus. Harry loved it.
He watched his older self converse quietly with Mr. Weasly, all the while keeping an eye on the two little boys, one was Jamie, who were racing around the room. He looked happy and in his element. He supposed that 4 or 5 years of being surrounded by Weasleys could do that to a person. The only one missing was....
As soon as the thought entered his mind the door bell rang. Fred popped up from behind the tree, a grin on his face. "Ah, the newlyweds have arrived!"
Percy's wife stood up and laughed. "Honestly Fred," she said, moving towards the door and narrowly missing the two boys followed closely by George's twin girls. "They've been married for over a year now. That's hardly newlyweds." She opened the door.
"Ho Ho Ho!" a loud, jolly voice called out. Every single child in the room froze and turned towards the door. The faces fell only slightly when Ron entered the room.
Cries of: "Uncle Ron! Uncle Ron!" echoed through the room as the children ran up to him and attached themselves to his legs. He managed to struggle into the room and a hooded figure followed him in, closing the door firmly behind them.
Ron laughed as he handed his cloak to Percy's wife, and then lifted the two little boys into his arms. "So, have you been a good boy, Jamie?" The black haired boy nodded solemnly. "And what about you, Brendan? Not been terrorizing your father too much?" Brendan began to nod, but couldn't stop the blush from creeping over his face as he looked sheepishly up at his uncle. "What did you do?" Ron asked, unable to hide his amused grin.
Brendan remained silent, grinning hesitantly around the room as all eyes seemed to be on him.
"I'll tell you what he did," Fred chimed in. "He switched my toothpaste with my shaving cream. Turned my broomstick purple, and charmed the cat so that he barks instead of meows. And that was just in the past two days!" The adults in the room burst into laughter at Fred's affronted look that his son would do such things to him.
"What about you two?" Ron asked the twins still attached to his legs, once he'd gotten his laughter under control. "I suppose you have been angels." The two girls nodded silently up at him, beguiling smiles on their cherubic faces.
"Don't believe a word out of their mouths!" George called accross the room, causing everyone to laugh again.
Ginny came out of the kitchen, her arms wide. "Ron, 'Mione! You're just in time. Breakfast is ready." Harry did a double take as he watched Ginny kiss Ron's cheek and then hug Hermione. It wasn't as much as a shock as Harry had expected to see that Ron and Hermione had married finally. What did cause his mouth to drop open was the sight of Hermione's swollen belly. She was just a little bit bigger than Ginny. Ron was going to be a father, Harry smiled. Well, he seemed perfect for the part. All his nieces and nephews seemed to love him.
Harry watched as Ginny and Hermione whispered conspiratorially together, their eyes sometimes sliding over to his older self who was now talking with Percy and Bill, Charlie's little girl in his arms. The girls giggled and smiled; Ginny shaking her head for a moment, and then nodding at what Hermione had to say.
Ginny stepped into the middle of the room. "Okay, breakfast is ready. So everyone to the dining room. The sooner we eat, the sooner you get to open presents," she reminded the kids. Ron grumbled something and Ginny smacked him on the back the head playfully. "When you host Christmas you can do it your way," she told him good naturedly. "Now get in there and be a good example."
Harry smiled. They had breakfast before presents just like his mum had wanted. He had a family and they had traditions, and there was laughter and love. This was what he had always wanted. He moved to follow everyone into the dining room, but from somewhere he heard his name being called. He looked around.
"Harry," the voice called again, as if from a long distance. "Harry, dear."
And just as quickly, the dream faded away, leaving him with nothing but vague images and a feeling of utter contentment
End?