Author: CelestialDrgn, aka Celeste
Rating: PG-13
Category: AU, Drama/Romance
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, so don't sue! All you'll get is pocket lint. All my money goes towards my anime and Harry Potter possessions. Harry Potter is owned, however, by J. K. Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books publishing companies. Aside from Luke, none of the characters are mine, only the idea of my story. St. John Vianney school is also one of my creations. This is a work in progress, and is my first HP fanfic (that I will attempt to finish.) Send all comments/suggestions/flames to padfootmoonbellsouth.net.
Author's Note: I'd like to thank the people who have reviewed this fic, Shinri, Kira, Englishgirl, Jennifer, Vici0usRebL, and Pinkfae, thanks so much! Trisha, there will be Draco later in the story, but he's OOC. I'm sorry this is taking a while, but I now have to juggle the school's summer project and managing a soccer team. My Grandpa passed away July 13th after an almost two-month battle with lung cancer, and I would like to dedicate this chapter to him since he always supported everything I did and was always there for me. School is three weeks away for me, so I have a feeling updates are going to be fewer and further apart. Thanks for your patience!
======
A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes (3/?)
The next morning Harry was greeted by the smell of warm, blueberry scones. He opened his eyes and put on his glasses. Looking over at the wheeled tray, he saw the scones and a small cup of orange juice. How he would miss the goblets of pumpkin juice served at Hogwarts and the way the plates magically filled and emptied themselves. But, Harry had a new life now, one that would outdo Hogwarts, because his parents were alive.
Harry helped himself to a scone, and a few minutes later Poppy walked in accompanied by Dr. Lambton.
"Harry! It's good to see you up!" said Poppy. She checked his vital signs and made sure his pillows were fluffed. "If you're still hungry when you're finished, you can press the 'call nurse' button and I'll give you more," she said cheerily and left.
Dr. Lambton sat down beside Harry.
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked, checking Harry's IV.
"I feel great! I can't wait to get home," he said.
Dr. Lambton checked the bandage that wrapped around his head.
"I believe this can come off. The keeper's cleat kind of sliced your forehead, but I've stitched it up. The wound looks like a lightning bolt, and you may have a thin scar later."
Harry gawked at him.
"A... lightning bolt?" he asked. In the wizarding world, that exact scar was what made him famous both by how he acquired it and the talent it gave him.
"Yes, it's quite unique. I used to play rugby back in the day and I got a massive scar on my knee that quite accurately resembles the country of Korea, but how you got a lightning bolt from a soccer cleat is amazing. The keeper must have used cleats with metal spikes rather than rubber." Dr. Lambton stood up beside Harry. "Let's see your balance, shall we?" he asked, helping Harry sit up.
Harry dangled his feet off the bed. He pushed himself up to his feet with his uninjured arm, then promptly sat back down. Harry laughed softly. "I guess I stood up too fast," he said, waiting for the spots dancing before his vision to disappear. When they did, Harry slowly stood up without difficulty.
"There you go, Harry!" Dr. Lambton encouraged. Harry took a few experimental steps, and he was walking around like nothing had injured him in the first place.
"Fantastic! I was going to allow you to ride in a wheel chair to the discharge area, but you can walk just perfectly. Now, if you sit down, I'll remove that IV then you can be discharged as soon as your parents get here."
Right on cue, Lily, James, and Luke walked in, a big balloon held in Luke's small hands. "Harry!" he cried, launching himself into his brother's arms. Harry laughed, hugging his younger brother with one arm.
"What do you have there, Luke?" he asked, playfully mussing with the younger boy's hair. Luke protested, then gave the balloon to Harry. "It's for you! It's so that you'll get better, Harry!"
"Thank you, Luke; it makes me feel much better!"
James picked up his younger son. "I'll go get the car, your mum has a change of clothes for you," he said, referring to his older son's pyjama- clad state. Harry grinned sheepishly. His father left and Dr. Lambton was putting on latex gloves.
"All right, Harry, this will hurt a little, but it will be fine right after."
Dr. Lambton pressed a cotton ball onto where the IV entered his hand, then pulled the little tube in his hand out.
"Bloody hell!" he cursed, wincing at his now throbbing hand.
"Harry James Potter," Lily warned.
"A little, 'eh, doc?" Harry retorted. "What do you tell the patients when they get surgery?"
Dr. Lambton simply laughed, applying a bandage to his hand after the wound clotted. "All right, now all you have to do is change, then you're free to go."
Harry stood up slowly and walked to the bathroom, his mother handing him his clothes on the way.
"Are you sure you don't need help?" she asked as he stepped in.
"Yes Mum, I don't need help," he assured her. Lily was about to say something else, but Harry shut the door. He snickered a little then changed into a pair of baggy jeans, a baggy tee shirt, and an over shirt. They were then discharged and went home.
======
A few days later, while James and Luke went to the park to play soccer, Ron and Hermione went to his house to visit. Ron practically pounced on Harry when he answered the door while Hermione calmly gave Harry a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"How are ya, mate?" Ron asked, settling into the plush armchair in the living room.
"Adjusting," Harry replied. "My memory is still gone, but I'll fill you in on the dream I had."
"I expect once you get those stitches out you'll be back on the field?" asked Hermione.
"I suppose..."
Ron interrupted them. "Harry, that goal was awesome! I'd bet your dad was proud, his oldest son following his footsteps."
Harry had discovered after talking to his parents that his father was a striker for Manchester United. His father wore the same style of glasses as Harry and succeeded in making sports safety goggles a new fashion statement. His mother, on the other hand, was a pianist and violinist for the London Symphony Orchestra. She was teaching Luke how to play piano and had quite a few music students that visited the house for their lessons.
Harry and his friends continued to catch up and listened to Ron's choice of music, a CD of music by Credence Clearwater Revival. Harry did not recognize the songs, but one that was rather catchy was "Joy to the World."
"There's nothing like 80's music to soothe the soul," Ron proclaimed while Hermione covered her ears. Hermione, surprisingly enough, had a soft spot for punk and techno and despised what she labeled as 'old crap.' The trio talked about sports, music, and their school, St. John Vianney, a private Catholic boarding school close to Scotland. Ron and Hermione described the school to their friend, about the large grounds, the towering castle, the majestic lake. The school was almost an exact replica of Hogwarts, minus the poltergeist, the moving stair cases, the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch, and hidden passageways. All the teachers he had known at Hogwarts were teachers at John Vianney, even tiny Professor Flitwick. Harry would miss his magic, but in this world he had what he had always dreamed of: a family.
Lily peeked her head in the living room. "Harry, I have a violin student coming in a few minutes, would you please answer the door?" Harry and the others chorused back they would, and went back to their conversations. Harry was explaining the basics of Quidditch to an enraptured Ron and an interested Hermione when the door bell rang. The raven-haired boy jumped up to answer it. He opened the door with a wide smile which slowly changed to surprise, then animosity. A tall, slim boy was standing on the stoop in loose fitting jeans, a tie-dyed shirt, and light blue sunglasses. His blonde hair fell to his shoulders and a silver earring dangled from his left ear. He had a friendly smile, but his face was recognizable from anywhere, especially from Harry's world of Hogwarts.
"Malfoy," Harry spat.
======
Post A/N: Bwee! That was interesting, ne? I've had an interesting past week with all the events dealing with my Grandpa's death. I want to thank my friends Trisha and Tiger for their support after his death, since I know them IRL. Writing is my outlet, I just hope you enjoy the offspring of my stress. I'm still working on my report for school, I may get crazy and post it on Fiction Press since it's more like a story than a report. I'm gonna get started on the next part right away. Until next time!
Rating: PG-13
Category: AU, Drama/Romance
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, so don't sue! All you'll get is pocket lint. All my money goes towards my anime and Harry Potter possessions. Harry Potter is owned, however, by J. K. Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and Raincoast Books publishing companies. Aside from Luke, none of the characters are mine, only the idea of my story. St. John Vianney school is also one of my creations. This is a work in progress, and is my first HP fanfic (that I will attempt to finish.) Send all comments/suggestions/flames to padfootmoonbellsouth.net.
Author's Note: I'd like to thank the people who have reviewed this fic, Shinri, Kira, Englishgirl, Jennifer, Vici0usRebL, and Pinkfae, thanks so much! Trisha, there will be Draco later in the story, but he's OOC. I'm sorry this is taking a while, but I now have to juggle the school's summer project and managing a soccer team. My Grandpa passed away July 13th after an almost two-month battle with lung cancer, and I would like to dedicate this chapter to him since he always supported everything I did and was always there for me. School is three weeks away for me, so I have a feeling updates are going to be fewer and further apart. Thanks for your patience!
======
A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes (3/?)
The next morning Harry was greeted by the smell of warm, blueberry scones. He opened his eyes and put on his glasses. Looking over at the wheeled tray, he saw the scones and a small cup of orange juice. How he would miss the goblets of pumpkin juice served at Hogwarts and the way the plates magically filled and emptied themselves. But, Harry had a new life now, one that would outdo Hogwarts, because his parents were alive.
Harry helped himself to a scone, and a few minutes later Poppy walked in accompanied by Dr. Lambton.
"Harry! It's good to see you up!" said Poppy. She checked his vital signs and made sure his pillows were fluffed. "If you're still hungry when you're finished, you can press the 'call nurse' button and I'll give you more," she said cheerily and left.
Dr. Lambton sat down beside Harry.
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked, checking Harry's IV.
"I feel great! I can't wait to get home," he said.
Dr. Lambton checked the bandage that wrapped around his head.
"I believe this can come off. The keeper's cleat kind of sliced your forehead, but I've stitched it up. The wound looks like a lightning bolt, and you may have a thin scar later."
Harry gawked at him.
"A... lightning bolt?" he asked. In the wizarding world, that exact scar was what made him famous both by how he acquired it and the talent it gave him.
"Yes, it's quite unique. I used to play rugby back in the day and I got a massive scar on my knee that quite accurately resembles the country of Korea, but how you got a lightning bolt from a soccer cleat is amazing. The keeper must have used cleats with metal spikes rather than rubber." Dr. Lambton stood up beside Harry. "Let's see your balance, shall we?" he asked, helping Harry sit up.
Harry dangled his feet off the bed. He pushed himself up to his feet with his uninjured arm, then promptly sat back down. Harry laughed softly. "I guess I stood up too fast," he said, waiting for the spots dancing before his vision to disappear. When they did, Harry slowly stood up without difficulty.
"There you go, Harry!" Dr. Lambton encouraged. Harry took a few experimental steps, and he was walking around like nothing had injured him in the first place.
"Fantastic! I was going to allow you to ride in a wheel chair to the discharge area, but you can walk just perfectly. Now, if you sit down, I'll remove that IV then you can be discharged as soon as your parents get here."
Right on cue, Lily, James, and Luke walked in, a big balloon held in Luke's small hands. "Harry!" he cried, launching himself into his brother's arms. Harry laughed, hugging his younger brother with one arm.
"What do you have there, Luke?" he asked, playfully mussing with the younger boy's hair. Luke protested, then gave the balloon to Harry. "It's for you! It's so that you'll get better, Harry!"
"Thank you, Luke; it makes me feel much better!"
James picked up his younger son. "I'll go get the car, your mum has a change of clothes for you," he said, referring to his older son's pyjama- clad state. Harry grinned sheepishly. His father left and Dr. Lambton was putting on latex gloves.
"All right, Harry, this will hurt a little, but it will be fine right after."
Dr. Lambton pressed a cotton ball onto where the IV entered his hand, then pulled the little tube in his hand out.
"Bloody hell!" he cursed, wincing at his now throbbing hand.
"Harry James Potter," Lily warned.
"A little, 'eh, doc?" Harry retorted. "What do you tell the patients when they get surgery?"
Dr. Lambton simply laughed, applying a bandage to his hand after the wound clotted. "All right, now all you have to do is change, then you're free to go."
Harry stood up slowly and walked to the bathroom, his mother handing him his clothes on the way.
"Are you sure you don't need help?" she asked as he stepped in.
"Yes Mum, I don't need help," he assured her. Lily was about to say something else, but Harry shut the door. He snickered a little then changed into a pair of baggy jeans, a baggy tee shirt, and an over shirt. They were then discharged and went home.
======
A few days later, while James and Luke went to the park to play soccer, Ron and Hermione went to his house to visit. Ron practically pounced on Harry when he answered the door while Hermione calmly gave Harry a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"How are ya, mate?" Ron asked, settling into the plush armchair in the living room.
"Adjusting," Harry replied. "My memory is still gone, but I'll fill you in on the dream I had."
"I expect once you get those stitches out you'll be back on the field?" asked Hermione.
"I suppose..."
Ron interrupted them. "Harry, that goal was awesome! I'd bet your dad was proud, his oldest son following his footsteps."
Harry had discovered after talking to his parents that his father was a striker for Manchester United. His father wore the same style of glasses as Harry and succeeded in making sports safety goggles a new fashion statement. His mother, on the other hand, was a pianist and violinist for the London Symphony Orchestra. She was teaching Luke how to play piano and had quite a few music students that visited the house for their lessons.
Harry and his friends continued to catch up and listened to Ron's choice of music, a CD of music by Credence Clearwater Revival. Harry did not recognize the songs, but one that was rather catchy was "Joy to the World."
"There's nothing like 80's music to soothe the soul," Ron proclaimed while Hermione covered her ears. Hermione, surprisingly enough, had a soft spot for punk and techno and despised what she labeled as 'old crap.' The trio talked about sports, music, and their school, St. John Vianney, a private Catholic boarding school close to Scotland. Ron and Hermione described the school to their friend, about the large grounds, the towering castle, the majestic lake. The school was almost an exact replica of Hogwarts, minus the poltergeist, the moving stair cases, the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch, and hidden passageways. All the teachers he had known at Hogwarts were teachers at John Vianney, even tiny Professor Flitwick. Harry would miss his magic, but in this world he had what he had always dreamed of: a family.
Lily peeked her head in the living room. "Harry, I have a violin student coming in a few minutes, would you please answer the door?" Harry and the others chorused back they would, and went back to their conversations. Harry was explaining the basics of Quidditch to an enraptured Ron and an interested Hermione when the door bell rang. The raven-haired boy jumped up to answer it. He opened the door with a wide smile which slowly changed to surprise, then animosity. A tall, slim boy was standing on the stoop in loose fitting jeans, a tie-dyed shirt, and light blue sunglasses. His blonde hair fell to his shoulders and a silver earring dangled from his left ear. He had a friendly smile, but his face was recognizable from anywhere, especially from Harry's world of Hogwarts.
"Malfoy," Harry spat.
======
Post A/N: Bwee! That was interesting, ne? I've had an interesting past week with all the events dealing with my Grandpa's death. I want to thank my friends Trisha and Tiger for their support after his death, since I know them IRL. Writing is my outlet, I just hope you enjoy the offspring of my stress. I'm still working on my report for school, I may get crazy and post it on Fiction Press since it's more like a story than a report. I'm gonna get started on the next part right away. Until next time!