TITLE: The Land of Desire
AUTHOR: MinnGirl
PAIRING: Harry/Draco
RATING: PG for now. Will most likely go up in later chapters.
SUMMARY: What would happen if you could travel into the Mirror of Erised and live out your deepest desires? Would it be everything that you expected? Harry and Draco are about to find out.
DISCLAIMER: The characters are not mine; they all belong to J.K. Rowling. Who is an absolute genius for giving us such great characters to play around with for a little while.
CHAPTER THREE
Surprises in Envelopes
"Harry?"
The voice came to Harry as if through a tunnel, and very far away.
"Harry?" it came again, starting to get louder and to clarify. It was also deepening into a slightly husky sound.
"Harry, wake up, you're gonna be late for breakfast." Now Harry recognized the voice as that of his best friend, Ron Weasley. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't entirely surprised to see a blurry shock of red perched atop the blurry blackness of Hogwarts robes.
"Ok Ron, I'm up. I'll meet you guys downstairs in a few minutes," he said while feeling for his glasses on the table beside his bed.
"Fine, but hurry, I'm starving," Ron said as he exited the room.
Harry grumbled under his breath as he pulled back the sweet warmth of his bed sheets and swung his bare feet onto the chilling wood floor. He hurriedly grabbed some clothes out of his trunk and crossed to the bathroom. After getting dressed, Harry brushed his teeth. He had already taken too long, and he knew Ron would be sick of waiting for him. He glanced once more at the mirror, running his fingers through his hair, giving it his best attempt to tame the wild strands. As he did so, his forehead became briefly exposed and Harry froze.
His forehead was bare. Absolutely spotless. What had happened to his scar? He stared for a few moments, and then bolted out of the bathroom and down to the common room, barely remembering to snag his shoes on the way out of the dorm.
"Ron!" Harry shouted, upon seeing his friend about to exit the common room through the portrait hole. Ron turned his head to glance over his shoulder as he proceeded to climb through the opening. Harry quickly followed him.
"Ron, look at me," Harry began, as he hopped down the hallway after his friend, attempting to put on his shoes as he spoke. "Do you notice anything different?" he questioned.
"Yes, as a matter of fact. You happen to look like a complete idiot hopping around one on foot," Ron replied, stopping to help his friend with the other shoe.
"No, that's not what I mean. Look at my face."
"What? Do you have a new pimple or something? Did you get new glasses?" Ron studied Harry's face with a mixture of impatience and confusion painted across his features.
Harry grasped the hair on his forehead and pulled it back, exposing the smooth skin to Ron. "My scar is gone." Harry studied Ron's face, waiting for the reaction he had expected in the first place.
"What scar? Did you get hurt in Quidditch or something? If you did have a scar there, then I would say it healed up pretty well. You can't even tell," Ron replied as he continued on his way to the Great Hall.
Harry stood in place stunned for a second, then hurried to catch up to Ron.
"Seriously, you know what I am talking about. You know the lightning-shaped scar that has been on my forehead ever since I was a year old. If you're joking around, then it is not funny."
"Harry, you sound like the one joking around. Honestly, who gets scars shaped like lightning? And if you would have had a scar since you were that young right in the middle of your forehead, don't you think I might have noticed by now?" Ron said as he pulled open the door of the Great Hall and followed Harry inside.
Now Harry was utterly confused. Why was Ron pretending not to know about his scar, and what had happened to it in the first place? As he made his way to an empty seat at the Gryffindor table, he scanned the Slytherin table for a sign of Malfoy. He was still hoping he hadn't figured out that Harry had been watching him last night.
He didn't appear to be there yet, so Harry turned his gaze to the other tables. He noticed Cho sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Harry hadn't been able to approach her much since Cedric's death. She looked happy now though, so he figured she was moving on, and that was good. He glanced at the Hufflepuff table and imagined Cedric sitting there amongst his friends. He was surprised his imagination was working so well, as he would have sworn he actually saw Cedric sitting between two Hufflepuff girls, making both giggle uncontrollably. Harry shook his head in a feeble attempt to clear it and turned back to his own table.
As he sat down next to Ron, he spotted Hermione sitting a few seats down on the opposite side. She was seated between Lavendar and Parvati, and she looked excellent. She had her hair done up and appeared to be wearing makeup. She was always complaining about how her two dormmates had wanted to give her a makeover, maybe she had finally conceded this morning.
"Hey Hermione," Harry said, grabbing food form the nearest plate in front of him.
She glanced at him and looked utterly surprised. She gave him a faint smile, and then returned to talking to Parvati.
"What did you talk to her for?" Ron questioned. Before Harry had time to reply to the perplexing question, he heard the flap of wings and hoots of owls. He looked up, automatically scanning the crowd of feathers for the snowy white ones of Hedwig. Instead, a tawny owl settled in front of Harry and held out his leg, waiting patiently for Harry to detach the letter that was tied there.
After he untied the letter, he gave the owl a bit of egg and watched it fly away. He turned his attention back to the letter in his hands, hoping it would be from Sirius. He needed to write to him anyway, to tell him about the strange disappearance of his scar. But as he looked at the writing on the envelope, he noticed it wasn't Sirius'. In fact, it looked like it must belong to a girl of some sort.
As images of a mysterious girl sending love letters flashed through his mind, Harry opened up the letter and quickly glanced at the signature. It read: Mom. Then the world went black.
"Harry?"
For the second time that morning, Harry felt as if he was moving through a tunnel towards a distant voice.
"Harry, wake up!" Then it occurred to Harry. He must have just been dreaming, and this was him actually waking up for the morning. As he gained consciousness again, he thought he was just waking up. Until he opened his eyes, and saw Ron standing above him, in the Hospital wing.
"Harry, you're awake. Are you all right? What happened?" Ron questioned quickly. The words seemed to spill out of his mouth in a jumble.
Harry sat bolt upright in the bed and said, "Ron, I got a letter. From my mom…" Harry began, but Ron interrupted with, "I know. You dropped it so I brought it here for you to read." As he spoke, he thrust the letter back into Harry's hand.
Harry glanced down at it, and then dropped it as if it were on fire. He looked back up at Ron, who was peering at Harry as if he had the plague.
"Are you ok? Have you not been eating enough lately? People don't just randomly pass out upon receiving letters from their parents. Unless it was maybe a Howler of course."
"Ron, you don't think it's strange that I received a letter from my mother, who is supposed to be dead?" Harry asked incredulously.
Now it was Ron's turn to be shocked. "Dead? Since when? Where did you hear that?" he asked in a loud voice.
"Since the night I got this scar…well, the scar that used to be there. Since as long as I can remember. Why are pretending you don't know?" Harry asked accusingly.
"Look Harry, I don't know what you're talking about. Honest. But I do think you need some rest, so I'm going to go. Please get some sleep; it will all make more sense in the morning." Then Ron gave Harry a weak smile and hurried out the door.
When Harry was left alone, he glanced at the letter on the floor. He hadn't read it before. He had just looked at the name and that is all he remembered. It occurred to him then that it could all be a joke, some cruel joke that someone had played just to see his reaction. I sure gave them a good one. Who did he know who would do something like that? Of course...Malfoy. But then Harry remembered not noticing Malfoy at breakfast, and wouldn't he want to be there to see his handiwork play out? Maybe if I read it I'll be able to figure out who did it.
He reached down and scooped it up in his hand. He unfolded it slowly and carefully, afraid of what the letter would say.
Harry~
Congratulations on your fine Quidditch match. Your father and I are so very proud. Sirius was very excited that he got to see it and he has filled us in on all the details. And of course your uncles are ecstatic at the thrill of beating Slytherin again.
We all can't wait to see you for Christmas. Hannah asks every day when you are coming home.
Good luck with all your classes, and we will see you next week!
Love,
Mom
As Harry studied the loose curves of the handwriting, and read over it once more, he wasn't sure anymore if it had been a joke. Who, besides Ron and Hermione, knew about Sirius? But who was Hannah? Even though the letter put more questions in his head, Harry desperately wished that it was true. He wished that he was the sort of boy to receive letters like this from his parents. He had always wished that. The possibility that it might actually have happened, caused tears to fall from Harry's eyes.
He clutched the letter to his chest, then rolled over and cried himself to sleep.
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I read back over my last two chapters, and they are so bad. I will rewrite them very soon for your benefit, as well as mine. Please review this chapter. No one reviewed my last chapter…sad, but I will continue to write anyway. Just because I need this out of my head. Also, if any of you have figured out where this is headed yet, and know of anything that might be different in this Land of Desire, let me know. I already have a long list of things, but I am sure I missed some fun ones.