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. Thanks for the reviews!!! =) Cheers to you readers!

Whoa!!! Can I say THANK YOU for the reviewsssss!!! But I want more!!! [haha.spoiled brat?! I just get jealous when I see those stories with a million reviews on it. Or at least, 50+] Anyway, I'm still happy 'coz I've now reached line of 3 with the number of reviews. Well, is that pathetic or what?

Anyway, I know you people are just gonna hate me! [haha, *wink, wink*] Erm, just don't hate me forever, okay? I'll probably make up a sequel, this time it's the side of Hermione. Hehehe. Oh well, go on. Read.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. That's thanks to J.K. Rowling, not me. :-p

+read, enjoy, review+

Chapter 17 - Fleeting Memories and Dreams (Rêves et mémoires passagers)

"Harry," a voice called to him. "Oy, Harry! Wake up!"

Harry Potter opened his eyes, and he was back in his dormitory, on his four-poster bed with the scarlet hangings. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he saw his friends getting dressed for another day at Hogwarts.

Then Harry gasped, realization dawning on him.

Had he made the choice?

Was this his choice coming to life?

But how come he remembered all of it? Sir Richard had told him that once he had made the choice he would instantly forget everything. How come he still remembered hanging out with Hermione and Dean? He still remembered his parents. He still remembered being a muggle!

"Oy, you don't want to be late, Harry," Seamus called to him from the other side of the room. He grinned at Harry as he caught his eye then went back to fixing his hair. He kept adding gel on it to make it look all neat and flat.

"Where's Ron?" Harry found himself asking.

Dean, whose bed was beside his, gave him a funny look. "As if you don't know?" he answered in reply. Then he tugged the robes around him and grabbed his schoolbooks.

Harry slowly stood up, thoughts whirling in his head. He changed into his school uniform wondering what had happened. Had it all been a dream? All of it, he asked?

But it couldn't have been. If it had been a dream, it wasn't possible. The time he spent there was so long, something like weeks, and he had only been sleeping for less than ten hours. How could a dream that long be fitted in a time that was that short?

"Arg," Harry muttered frustrated, tugging his robes. He was holding his wand and a few sparks emitted from the tip of his wand, causing some of his sheets to rip.

"Harry," Neville asked nervously, giving him a wary look. "Is it your scar?"

Your scar.

Harry's hand flew to his forehead. So, his scar was still there. He was once more Harry Potter, boy wizard, the boy who lived. He shook his head. "No, Neville. It's not."

"Come on," Dean called out, waiting impatiently by the door of their dormitory. Seamus and Neville grabbed their stuff. "Coming, Harry?"

Harry looked up. "You go on. I'll just catch up."

But instead of getting ready, Harry dropped back down on his bed, trying to reason out the thoughts on his head. It couldn't have been a dream, could it? Everything? From the moment he woke up for the first day of his senior year up to the point he was going to make his choice?

It couldn't have been, he told himself.

And he thought about the last thing he remembered. He was ready, he was going to tell Sir Richard what he was going to choose when Sir Richard had grabbed his cane and the whole cave went dark.

And then, he was roused by the sound of Dean's voice. When he opened his eyes, he was back at his dormitory. What had happened?

Maybe Sir Richard didn't entirely know what he was doing, Harry thought. There was probably some sort of side effect from the Erised charm that he did not know of. And that was why Harry remembered everything.

But if he had made a choice, how come he chose this?

How come he chose going back, living on as a wizard who had to fight the Dark Lord? A wizard who had no parents?

Thinking of his parents brought tears to his eyes. He missed them so badly. Even if Harold Potter was different from James Potter, it didn't matter. Both of them were his fathers. His parents were what he had when he was a muggle. Now, he was back to being a wizard, and he had lost them. And not only that, he also had lost Hermione.

How he loved her.

He knew in his heart seeing her with Ron would probably kill him, if not, break his heart. He sat there, feeling thoroughly sad. He hated having to be Harry Potter. Why did this all happen to him? He never asked for it.

"I wanted to give you a chance to live a life with your parents."

Sir Richard's words echoed in his mind. That was what it all was - a mere chance to know what it was like. Harry thought about Sir Richard. He still didn't recognize who the old man was. But he was so much familiar.

There was something in his eyes that Harry recognized.

"Harry! Aren't you ready yet?" a voice interrupted his confused thoughts.

Harry looked up, and saw Ron, standing at the doorway. "I don't feel so good," he mumbled lamely.

Ron gave him a skeptical look. "Are you sure? You just beat Slytherin yesterday. The last time I saw you, I swear, you looked like Wood did way back when we won the Quidditch Cup since Charlie," he said. "Was it all the butterbeers? The pasty?"

Harry shook his head. He had been so intent on sorting out his dream, whatever it was, that he hadn't given a thought to the present. Now, he remembered clearly the game. "No, it surely wasn't that," he replied. He grinned at Ron. "We beat Slytherin, huh? Well, suddenly I'm feeing much better."

Ron laughed. "Come on. Let's gloat over breakfast. I just saw the Slytherins, they sure are sulking."

Harry hesitated. Breakfast at the Great Hall meant seeing Hermione. He didn't know how he was going to deal with seeing his best friend's girlfriend whom was none other than the love of his life. "Er, where's Hermione?"

Ron snorted. "Having a grand time with Professor McGonagall. They've been bonding nonstop lately."

Harry grinned. He heard the bitter note from Ron's voice. No doubt Ron wanted to be bonding with Hermione. "Well, Hermione would surely miss McGonagall once we leave."

"You'd think that," Ron said as they descended the staircase. "But I think Hermione's coming back here to teach. She'll probably become like McGonagall herself, and then she'd meet another little know-it-all whom she'll like instantly and-"

Harry laughed. "Okay, Ron. I get the picture!"

Ron flushed deeply. "She's been telling me to come back here, and replace Madame Hooch. Or maybe teach too," he explained. "I told her I'd rather live of like Hagrid than teach and be working with Snape."

"Wow," Harry mumbled. "Imagine if we taught here, Ron, we'd be *equals* with Snape."

"All the more chance of his poisoning us," Ron grumbled. Once they walked inside the Great Hall, his eyes lit up and he almost ran towards the table and started piling his plate.

"Thinking of teaching here, Harry?"

Harry turned around and he met clear blue eyes. He staggered back. "Pro-Professor Dumbledor," he stammered. And he knew.

"Well, I'd certainly welcome you to my staff," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling before he walked off towards the teacher's table.

Sir Richard.

Dumbledore was Sir Richard!

Harry stared at Dumbledore. So did that mean that his dream was real? It wasn't a dream? If Sir Richard was real, then, his being a muggle was real too? And he did make a choice? And this was his choice coming to life?

"Oy, Harry!" Ron called. "Hurry up, or there won't be anything left!"