Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to own them, Harry and co. aren't mine, J.K. Rowling managed to beat me to them, tough luck for me then. Just kidding....ü
AN: Got inspired by a fic from Chelle-sama which was originally CCS.
Harry was drawn to the music coming from a part of the sidewalk a few blocks from his house. As if he was hypnotized, his feet started to move on their own, approaching the soft melody. It was as if the tune was heard by him only, like the voice of the Basilisk, luring Harry to come near. At some point, Harry thought that it might be a trap but he dismissed the notion quickly. As if he was capable of stopping himself anytime soon, besides. He finally reached the source, finding that the sound was coming from a small box, the lid all dusty and words that Harry couldn't decipher were inscribed. He blew dust away from the lid which created a grey cloud that engulfed him. Almost at once, he began to cough, but as the cloud of dust subsided, so did the coughing. With nimble fingers, Harry unfastened the gold hook and lifted the lid, the hinges squeaking from the lack of oil applied to it for a long period of time.
Inside he saw miniature figures of a man and a woman dancing. Upon closer inspection, the figures were very life-like. They seemed to possess the air that they were once alive, or projected to look that way. The man was wearing a lose polo shirt, his black hair a more tamed version of Harry's mop. In his arms was a beautiful, slender lady whose curly hair barely reached her shoulders, her white skirt swinging from side to side as the couple glided in harmony to the music the music box created.
For the two, the upper right corner of the box was their stage as they danced to the slightly off-key melody. Harry squinted to see that the couple's gaze was focused on only one another; their hands entwined and their feet moving in sync.
Clearly time didn't seem to hinder the obvious love that the couple seemed to be made to show. In Harry's mind's eye, he could see the real-life version of the figurines in front of him. He could see the ballroom where in music was played with enchanted instruments and he could see the couple dancing to a song they themselves created for one another.
Then he started seeing himself as a man, all grown up, whose wife simply passed by in the hallway- but with her sheer magnificence- and he would have to follow her into the hallway, eyes trained on her angelic beauty. He would pass by the ballroom and an idea would suddenly strike him. He would open the huge mahogany doors leading to a room lined with different plush chairs at the sides and the instruments were placed strategically at the front. The center of the room held no furnishings whatsoever, creating the impression of a stage. It was the ballroom. With a well practiced swish of his wand and a muttered incantation, the instruments would start to play a tune that was fabricated for Harry and his wife alone, each note weaving a melody that symbolized everything that they shared.
His wife would walk back down the hallway upon hearing the all too familiar piece of music and would see her husband smiling a mischievous smile. Then he would bow like a gentleman and would ask his wife for a dance with an outstretched arm. She would laugh as she accepted his gracious invitation, and they would dance, much like they had the night they were wed. Their whole form and expression said that their love grew even deeper and was still growing with time. At some point, he imagined his wife would scold him and would tell him to keep the music down, as to not disturb the children who were already in bed. He would simply chuckle and say that their children, when in deep sleep, wouldn't hear a horde of elephants if they made a stampede just outside their rooms. His wife would simply shake her head, take her wand from the pocket of her dress and soften the music a little.
Harry blinked as the man in the music box sub consequentially dipped the small woman in a certain part of the song, which made Harry smile. The two were holding hands quite lovingly, eyes trained nothing but on each other.
To Harry, though, he couldn't see the faces of the figures anymore. He could picture himself holding his would-be wife in his arms.
Harry once again slipped into a daydream. He could imagine himself with his arms wrapped around the slender waist of his imaginary wife, which was still small, despite the number of children that she has mothered and he has fathered. Her face, still beautiful- even more so with slight creases that bear witness to her age, but further to her wisdom. She was one of the lucky few who age gracefully. He would dip her just as the couple projected in the miniature people of the music box did. Only her bushy, honey colored hair would brush the floor and she would laugh, her eyes would be dancing from the mirth of it all, his would simply be staring at her cinnamon brown eyes, his love delving deeper despite the many years of marriage and even more years of friendship.
That's when Harry realized that his wife wasn't a faceless woman fabricated to suit his daydream anymore.
In fact, the face he sees in his mind had become the face of none other than his best friend, Hermione Granger.
Harry blinked a couple of times, allowing his brain to register the thought.
Never once did any sort of feeling spark in his heart towards his best friend.
Never once has he had the urge to even hold her hand… or had he? But it was
foolish to start realizing his feelings now while he was soon to be meeting his
one year girlfriend, Cho Chang, for a date that he set up for the lack of time
he had been spending with her because of a project that was given to them by the
ministry involving Ron, Hermione and him.
In fact, he hardly even realized that he hadn't spoken with Cho for more than a week.
He deemed it funny how a small box and seemingly unheard music could help him realize a crush that he was sure he hadn't harbored before.
But then again, maybe he did harbor the said crush, only he hadn't realized until the music box prompted him to daydream.
Harry closed the lid of the music box and left towards his house.
The next absurd thing was that he started to think of names for their children.
He, like any other person, would want children in the future to carry the family name. He wants a boy and a girl, though he would never deny Hermione if she wanted more.
He would like his son to be his very own junior, but then, he didn't want his son to carry the burdening name that he was known for. Not being arrogant or anything, Potter was a surname that would be a heavy burden in itself, but having to be Harry Potter's junior was something similar to carrying the weight of the world. He didn't want his son to have that, having lived his whole life carrying that load. Having to be expected of so much and the pressure of it all would be too much to bear.
Harry thought of naming his son after his father, James. It would simply be a sort of tribute to his father's memory and he was fairly sure that Hermione would consent. The downside of that, though, would be that conversations could be difficult, most especially between his godfather and him. James Potter, Harry's father, was often a topic of conversation for them as Harry was very eager to learn more about his parents. Plus, to Harry, the name James Potter was a name only fit for the sacred memory of his father.
Then again, maybe he could name his son after Ron, of which would surely be the little one's godfather, just for the pure fun of it. Just imagining how Ron would react at the prospect of having Hermione and him name their first son after him was hilarious in itself but Harry was fairly sure that after a few long arguments and some time, Hermione would be able to convince Ron to agree. But then again, Harry thought, maybe he better have only one Ron in his life lest the child take to the personality of his name sake. Not that he didn't like the way Ron acted; it's just that he didn't think if Hermione and he could handle two Rons in their life, especially Hermione. He didn't want his child to be constantly butting heads with his mother.
Maybe Harry and Hermione would simply think of something original to name their son. Something almost unheard of in times like these. Something that would stick unto the minds of the people he will meet. Like Guildenstern and Rosencrantz for example, but that would be exaggerating on the uniqueness of the name, and, not to insult Hamlet, aren't two names that are quite well accepted by peers when his child will come to age. Plus, Guildenstern and Rosencrantz were killed by pirates, which isn't a good sign at all.
Harry would also want a dear baby girl to take care of- someone sweet who'd prance around the gardens picking flowers for Hermione and him. He saw Hermione dress up their daughter, who would happen to get a lot of her mother's features, and Harry imagined how Hermione must have looked in dresses with puffy sleeves, elaborate skirts, ribbons and laces when she was young. A girl who he'll have to guard from suitors and which he'll have to walk down the aisle on her wedding day. Yes, they'll definitely have a daughter, maybe two, who knows?
And then, when their children are old enough, they'll go to Hogwarts wherein they'll experience the greatest seven years of their lives. They'll meet new friends, experience new things, study under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had, have a few adventures of their own and they would probably even have to face the wrath of Snape, in which Harry was fairly certain would give his children as hard a time as Harry himself had. Some of them would make Harry proud by securing a spot in the Quidditch team, maybe even be captain, while others would make Hermione pleased by making it as a prefect, or even head girl. Their parents, though they would never admit it, were overachievers after all. Their father was one of the greatest Seekers to enter Hogwarts, all while fighting a struggle to save the world from total destruction by one of the most feared magicians known in all time, Voldemort . Their mother, one of the greatest witches who ever studied Hogwarts. Both made prefect and Head girl a year younger than she was supposed to.
He could see Hermione teaching their children the levitation spell once one of them finished shopping for the first time in Diagon Alley for their wand.
"No, no, no, dearest." Harry could hear Hermione in his mind, "It's Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."
"Dear, swish and flick." Harry could even see Hermione gesturing with her hands, which have become a little bit more aged.
"Are you listening to me?!" Harry blinked a couple of times as a hand waved in front of his eyes. He wasn't aware that he had already passed the gates and was already standing in front of his house, in which Hermione had already opened the door, her hands on her hips.
"Huh?"
"Harry Potter, where have you been?!"
"Uh- Out?"
Harry felt himself being pulled by Hermione inside, take off his cloak only to place it at the cloak hanger. It was funny how he expected Hermione to give him a peck on the cheek, and a shy smile; to relate to him everything that happened to her that day while they were making their daily route (the longer one) to the dinning room where they'd eat a scrumptious dinner Hermione had made the muggle way.
It was absurd to be thinking those things when they weren't a couple in the first place!
"You better get ready with your date, you have less than five minutes 'till Cho arrives."
"Cho?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes, Harry, Cho, your girlfriend of one year, honestly, it's as if you don't love her. Oh, by the way, the backyard is all set, all you need to do now is swish and flick and mutter 'musico' to have the instruments playing. "
Harry pulled his wand from his pants' pocket and said, "You mean like this?" Harry made a swish and flick movement with his wand while saying, "musico."
Hermione was about to say something but Harry was already walking up the staircase, humming the tune that was currently being played by the strings out in the garden. Hermione could hear Ron panicking, wondering what has happened to cause the activation of the instruments but instead of rushing to Ron to relieve him of his problems, Hermione leaned at the railing of the stairs and stared at Harry's retreating back. Then she shook her head. Once Harry was out of view, she pushed herself from the railing, pulled her wand and mutter, "silencio" and the instruments abruptly stopped.
"What happened?" It was Ron who was coming in from the backyard.
"I guess Harry wanted to test it before Cho arrived."
Ron simply smiled, "We should get going now before Cho gets even more jealous of us." But Hermione was already heading towards the door, humming a tune that was slightly similar to the one Harry was humming and what the strings were previously playing.
As we looked back at the engravement on the lid of the music box, we find the words "eest nacuoy gnihte no ehtsi rof gni kooleru oyg nihty revehts emitem os"- whatever that means...ü (hint: reflection)
Fin
AN: R&R please, oh and review and try to figure out what the message means. It would be fairly easy if you were even the slightest bit of a Harry Potter fan, which I figure you are since you're reading fanfics...ü