The Choice Within A Dream (Le Choix Dans Un Rêve)
Complete Summary: The muggles in the Harry Potter series did not receive their letters from Hogwarts because a very strict Headmaster, who does not accept muggles, runs the school. So Harry, Hermione and Dean Thomas don't know anything about magic or anything that is associated with it (including Ron). It's like Hogwarts never happened.
Harry lives a normal life, with both his parents and his two best friends, Hermione and Dean. But in a dream, Harry finds himself in a magical world where there is a boy named Ron, where he is famous for a lightning bolt scar but, a world wherein his parents are dead.
In the end, Harry Potter has to choose between living the life of a muggle, or living in the world of magic.
*Note* I'm putting French translations, because I want to. Hehehe. Hope you like this story, and if you're confused, or you hate it, or you like it =) .then just review and say so. Oh man, thank you ALL so much for the reviews!!! Keeps me going!!!
The name of Harry's dad is really James Potter, right? So why is it HAROLD Potter in this story, and not James? Well, read on and find out! This is the part that will explain all! [Even why Harry's surname is still Potter, and not another surname]
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. That's thanks to J.K. Rowling, not me. :-p
+read, enjoy, review+
Chapter 12 - The Old Man in the Darkness (Le vieil homme dans l'obscurité)
Midnight.
The Grandfather clock inside the house chimed twelve times, indicating that it was already midnight. Outside the house, it was dark except for the porch light and the streetlights. A gust of wind blew, and everything was silent.
The moon shone brightly, its beam touching everything. A cloud shifted covering the moon, and the shadow on the roof was hidden. No one noticed the eighteen-year-old sitting on the roof, staring at the heavens above him.
Harry Potter lay down on his roof, with his arms propped in his head. He gazed at the stars above him, the clouds, the moonless sky. He wasn't sleeping because he didn't want to, because he was afraid of what dream he might dream this time.
His thoughts drifted to what his father had asked him.
"Aren't you going to propose to *her*?" Harold Potter had asked.
And Harry found himself wondering if what Hermione would say. He did want to spend the rest of his life with her, but he told himself he was too young. He was only eighteen. He still had to experience life, to know more about the world out there.
But still. He wanted to spend his life with her. Even if he was only eighteen, and he was too young for such things as love, he was sure in his heart. She was the one for him.
It was with this last thought that Harry fell asleep.
When Harry opened his eyes, the first thing that he saw was nothing. It was dark from where he was, and he blinked several times for his eyes to get accustomed to the darkness. He pushed himself to a sitting position, and his hands felt the hard floor. He stood up, and walking several paces, found himself facing the wall. He reached out to touch it with his fingertips, and he saw it was also hard.
Harry realized he was in some sort of cave. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, light filled the cave. He could see the jagged stones along the walls. Above him were stalactites and stalagmites.
Then suddenly, the lights dimmed. It got darker. Harry blinked.
The third time he blinked, he could see nothing in front of him. He remembered that if he were a wizard now, he would have a wand with him, and he realized a wand would certainly be useful now. He searched his pockets, feeling hopeful but he came up with nothing.
Then-
"So, young Harry," a voice called from within.
Harry squinted his eyes for a better look, if that was possible. "Who are you?"
"I'm a friend."
"Where are you?" Harry asked looking around him.
The man chuckled gleefully. "Everywhere, Harry. I'm everywhere."
Harry looked around him. The whole cave was dark. "Is this a trick?"
"Oh no, Harry, no, no," the voice answered. And from the other end of the cave, a light shone, illuminating the shadow of a man. Harry squinted his eyes, moving a few steps towards the light. He saw an old man with long white hair, and holding a cane. "Hello, Harry," he greeted looking up.
Harry didn't know what to say. Instead he smiled politely. The old man hobbled closer to him, and Harry saw clear blue eyes. Though he was old, he looked alert and his had a strong gaze that was directed on Harry, giving him a searching look.
"Er, how do you know me?" Harry asked uncertainly. He was afraid he might offend the old man.
Again, the old man chuckled gleefully. "We've met before," he replied though his voice was light, his tone was serious. He slowly sat down on a protruding rock and exhaled as though he had been walking for miles, and he was tired. He placed the cane on his left side.
"Er, did you bring me here?" Harry asked, taking a few more steps closer.
"No," the man answered. He gestured at the rock that was opposite him, for Harry to sit. "Actually, you brought yourself here," he said watching as Harry sat down.
Harry stared at the old man, his mind full of questions. Then he realized-
"Am I dreaming?" he asked excitedly.
The old man smiled at him. "Yes and no," he answered. "You are in that place between waking and sleeping."
Harry wrinkled his nose. He was getting confused again. "Er, I don't understand-"
"Quite understandable," the old man began, "-that you don't understand. Well, Harry, let me first introduce myself. My name is," he paused staring at the ceiling, "-well, call me Sir Richard."
"Sir Richard?" Harry echoed, wrinkling his eyebrows. "Are you a knight?"
"Oh no," Sir Richard chuckled. "But I do sometimes wonder and think of myself as one," he admitted and then leaning against the wall of the cave, a slow easy smile crept up his face and he had a faraway look in his eyes.
"Er, Sir, I, uh, still don't understand," Harry stammered, not wanting to disturb him.
Sir Richard blinked and he turned to Harry. "Oh right. I was going to explain wasn't I?" he asked, and when Harry nodded, he continued. "Well you see, Harry, I have met you. You might not recall now but I assure you will, later on. Now, I have known about your dreams-"
Harry was stunned. "How-?"
"Well, never mind that. The thing is when you are awake you live as muggle but when you are asleep, you dream that you live as a wizard," Sir Richard explained. "You see, Harry, being a muggle is how the world is. It is more real, and that is why your life is a muggle life when you are awake," he paused.
Harry thought for a second about what he had just said.
"Now, when it comes to magic, well, it's unreal, isn't it? Almost no one knows that witches and wizards really do exist except for the lot of us. Magic is just like an imagination to one, and this is why you become a wizard when you are asleep."
"But I don't understand," Harry insisted shaking his head. "Have I been living like this ever since I was born?" he asked incredulous.
"Oh no," Sir Richard disagreed. "Not since you were born. This has just happened only recently. After your eighteenth birthday, in fact."
"Er, who started all of it?" Harry asked.
"That would be me, Harry," Sir Richard replied. "Because if you would remember how your wizarding life is like, you were orphaned ever since you were a baby. I wanted to give you a chance to live a life with your parents."
Harry nodded slowly. He was the boy who lived, not being able to know his parents. He had hungered so much for the love that parents would give their child. And he was glad that he knew now. But-
"But, I don't understand why my dad is Harold Potter and not James Potter?"
Sir Richard's eyes glinted. "Harry, what have you noticed in your waking life?"
Harry thought for a moment. He looked at Sir Richard, and shrugged. "You mean, my life as a muggle? Well, I can't use magic."
"Quite right, Harry," Sir Richard said nodding. "Quite right, but that is not the answer I was looking for," he paused and gazed at Harry. "Who are your friends?"
"Hermione and Dean," Harry answered. He looked at Sir Richard. The old man had his eyes closed eyes, waiting for Harry to come to the answer. Harry racked his brain for the answer. "But it should be Ron," he mumbled.
"Exactly," Sir Richard said, his eyes flowing open. "What does that mean?"
"It means that-" Harry began slowly, and then in his mind popped a familiar scene, a familiar scene from the Quad at school. And then the realization hit him. "That's it! We're muggles!" he exclaimed excitedly.
Sir Richard nodded slightly. "Very good, Harry. Some of you were half- muggles but unlike the case of Dean and Hermione, they both had muggle parents," he explained. Then leaning closer to Harry, he continued, "Now Harry, I shall explain everything to you now."
Harry nodded eagerly. He'd been so anxious for someone to be able to tell him what was going on in his life and answer all his questions. This was his chance.
Complete Summary: The muggles in the Harry Potter series did not receive their letters from Hogwarts because a very strict Headmaster, who does not accept muggles, runs the school. So Harry, Hermione and Dean Thomas don't know anything about magic or anything that is associated with it (including Ron). It's like Hogwarts never happened.
Harry lives a normal life, with both his parents and his two best friends, Hermione and Dean. But in a dream, Harry finds himself in a magical world where there is a boy named Ron, where he is famous for a lightning bolt scar but, a world wherein his parents are dead.
In the end, Harry Potter has to choose between living the life of a muggle, or living in the world of magic.
*Note* I'm putting French translations, because I want to. Hehehe. Hope you like this story, and if you're confused, or you hate it, or you like it =) .then just review and say so. Oh man, thank you ALL so much for the reviews!!! Keeps me going!!!
The name of Harry's dad is really James Potter, right? So why is it HAROLD Potter in this story, and not James? Well, read on and find out! This is the part that will explain all! [Even why Harry's surname is still Potter, and not another surname]
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. That's thanks to J.K. Rowling, not me. :-p
+read, enjoy, review+
Chapter 12 - The Old Man in the Darkness (Le vieil homme dans l'obscurité)
Midnight.
The Grandfather clock inside the house chimed twelve times, indicating that it was already midnight. Outside the house, it was dark except for the porch light and the streetlights. A gust of wind blew, and everything was silent.
The moon shone brightly, its beam touching everything. A cloud shifted covering the moon, and the shadow on the roof was hidden. No one noticed the eighteen-year-old sitting on the roof, staring at the heavens above him.
Harry Potter lay down on his roof, with his arms propped in his head. He gazed at the stars above him, the clouds, the moonless sky. He wasn't sleeping because he didn't want to, because he was afraid of what dream he might dream this time.
His thoughts drifted to what his father had asked him.
"Aren't you going to propose to *her*?" Harold Potter had asked.
And Harry found himself wondering if what Hermione would say. He did want to spend the rest of his life with her, but he told himself he was too young. He was only eighteen. He still had to experience life, to know more about the world out there.
But still. He wanted to spend his life with her. Even if he was only eighteen, and he was too young for such things as love, he was sure in his heart. She was the one for him.
It was with this last thought that Harry fell asleep.
When Harry opened his eyes, the first thing that he saw was nothing. It was dark from where he was, and he blinked several times for his eyes to get accustomed to the darkness. He pushed himself to a sitting position, and his hands felt the hard floor. He stood up, and walking several paces, found himself facing the wall. He reached out to touch it with his fingertips, and he saw it was also hard.
Harry realized he was in some sort of cave. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, light filled the cave. He could see the jagged stones along the walls. Above him were stalactites and stalagmites.
Then suddenly, the lights dimmed. It got darker. Harry blinked.
The third time he blinked, he could see nothing in front of him. He remembered that if he were a wizard now, he would have a wand with him, and he realized a wand would certainly be useful now. He searched his pockets, feeling hopeful but he came up with nothing.
Then-
"So, young Harry," a voice called from within.
Harry squinted his eyes for a better look, if that was possible. "Who are you?"
"I'm a friend."
"Where are you?" Harry asked looking around him.
The man chuckled gleefully. "Everywhere, Harry. I'm everywhere."
Harry looked around him. The whole cave was dark. "Is this a trick?"
"Oh no, Harry, no, no," the voice answered. And from the other end of the cave, a light shone, illuminating the shadow of a man. Harry squinted his eyes, moving a few steps towards the light. He saw an old man with long white hair, and holding a cane. "Hello, Harry," he greeted looking up.
Harry didn't know what to say. Instead he smiled politely. The old man hobbled closer to him, and Harry saw clear blue eyes. Though he was old, he looked alert and his had a strong gaze that was directed on Harry, giving him a searching look.
"Er, how do you know me?" Harry asked uncertainly. He was afraid he might offend the old man.
Again, the old man chuckled gleefully. "We've met before," he replied though his voice was light, his tone was serious. He slowly sat down on a protruding rock and exhaled as though he had been walking for miles, and he was tired. He placed the cane on his left side.
"Er, did you bring me here?" Harry asked, taking a few more steps closer.
"No," the man answered. He gestured at the rock that was opposite him, for Harry to sit. "Actually, you brought yourself here," he said watching as Harry sat down.
Harry stared at the old man, his mind full of questions. Then he realized-
"Am I dreaming?" he asked excitedly.
The old man smiled at him. "Yes and no," he answered. "You are in that place between waking and sleeping."
Harry wrinkled his nose. He was getting confused again. "Er, I don't understand-"
"Quite understandable," the old man began, "-that you don't understand. Well, Harry, let me first introduce myself. My name is," he paused staring at the ceiling, "-well, call me Sir Richard."
"Sir Richard?" Harry echoed, wrinkling his eyebrows. "Are you a knight?"
"Oh no," Sir Richard chuckled. "But I do sometimes wonder and think of myself as one," he admitted and then leaning against the wall of the cave, a slow easy smile crept up his face and he had a faraway look in his eyes.
"Er, Sir, I, uh, still don't understand," Harry stammered, not wanting to disturb him.
Sir Richard blinked and he turned to Harry. "Oh right. I was going to explain wasn't I?" he asked, and when Harry nodded, he continued. "Well you see, Harry, I have met you. You might not recall now but I assure you will, later on. Now, I have known about your dreams-"
Harry was stunned. "How-?"
"Well, never mind that. The thing is when you are awake you live as muggle but when you are asleep, you dream that you live as a wizard," Sir Richard explained. "You see, Harry, being a muggle is how the world is. It is more real, and that is why your life is a muggle life when you are awake," he paused.
Harry thought for a second about what he had just said.
"Now, when it comes to magic, well, it's unreal, isn't it? Almost no one knows that witches and wizards really do exist except for the lot of us. Magic is just like an imagination to one, and this is why you become a wizard when you are asleep."
"But I don't understand," Harry insisted shaking his head. "Have I been living like this ever since I was born?" he asked incredulous.
"Oh no," Sir Richard disagreed. "Not since you were born. This has just happened only recently. After your eighteenth birthday, in fact."
"Er, who started all of it?" Harry asked.
"That would be me, Harry," Sir Richard replied. "Because if you would remember how your wizarding life is like, you were orphaned ever since you were a baby. I wanted to give you a chance to live a life with your parents."
Harry nodded slowly. He was the boy who lived, not being able to know his parents. He had hungered so much for the love that parents would give their child. And he was glad that he knew now. But-
"But, I don't understand why my dad is Harold Potter and not James Potter?"
Sir Richard's eyes glinted. "Harry, what have you noticed in your waking life?"
Harry thought for a moment. He looked at Sir Richard, and shrugged. "You mean, my life as a muggle? Well, I can't use magic."
"Quite right, Harry," Sir Richard said nodding. "Quite right, but that is not the answer I was looking for," he paused and gazed at Harry. "Who are your friends?"
"Hermione and Dean," Harry answered. He looked at Sir Richard. The old man had his eyes closed eyes, waiting for Harry to come to the answer. Harry racked his brain for the answer. "But it should be Ron," he mumbled.
"Exactly," Sir Richard said, his eyes flowing open. "What does that mean?"
"It means that-" Harry began slowly, and then in his mind popped a familiar scene, a familiar scene from the Quad at school. And then the realization hit him. "That's it! We're muggles!" he exclaimed excitedly.
Sir Richard nodded slightly. "Very good, Harry. Some of you were half- muggles but unlike the case of Dean and Hermione, they both had muggle parents," he explained. Then leaning closer to Harry, he continued, "Now Harry, I shall explain everything to you now."
Harry nodded eagerly. He'd been so anxious for someone to be able to tell him what was going on in his life and answer all his questions. This was his chance.
