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 at the end!
======
A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes (4/?)
"Malfoy," Harry spat.
The look of confusion on Draco's face was rivaled by the one Harry wore when Ron appeared out of nowhere and hugged Draco like he would a long lost brother.
"Draco! It's been a while, 'eh?" Ron laughed, clapping the blonde on the back.
Draco continued to stare perplexed at Harry past Ron's fiery red hair.
"Uh... Ron? Why is Harry gawking at us?"
Ron looked back at his friend.
"Harry? Do you not remember Draco?"
"Why would he not remember me?" Draco muttered.
Harry's brow creased.
"Yeah, I remember him. He was a bigoted, spoiled, rich kid who paraded his support for Voldemort and threw insults and pranks left and right, acting as if he owned the school."
Draco stared, his sunglasses slipping to the tip of his nose. Ron burst out laughing.
"Draco, the vegan, the member of Green Peace and the biggest hippie on the face of this planet, a BIGOT?! My, I'd have to say, Harry, Hell has truly frozen over!" Ron looked out the door up at the sky. "Do you see any flying pigs anywhere, mate?" he asked the bewildered blonde ("I supported who?").
Hermione whacked Ron upside the head. She ignored Ron's whimpering while she greeted Draco brightly.
"Why, Draco, it truly has been a while since I've seen you! Would you please step inside?"
"Sure, 'Mione..." he said, walking past the two boys and following Hermione into the living room. Ron and Harry joined them shortly after closing the door. Draco laid his violin case on the coffee table and sat on the couch.
"Now... what's up with Harry? Why doesn't he remember me?"
Hermione and Ron explained the situation about Harry losing his memory, cringing at the thought of being hit that hard in the head. They also told him about the memory that Harry dreamed up, of the school that taught children how to tame and focus their powers of magic.
"Must have been some hit you took, Harry, m'boy. That school sounds exciting compared to John Vianney, though, eh, Ronnie?" Draco asked.
At that moment Lily peeked back inside the living room.
"There's my pupil! How dare you barbarians keep him from learning!" she admonished, causing everyone to laugh.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter, but I was unaware that Harry here didn't remember one of his best friends," replied the blonde hippie.
Lily smiled softly at Harry. "You all will have time to catch up, but I need to borrow Draco for now, I have two more students coming, and I need to be done with Draco before they can continue with their lessons."
Draco stood up and retrieved his violin. "I'll see you lot later," he said, giving them all a warm smile and following Lily to the playroom-turned- music room.
Hermione faced Harry.
"Poor Draco, you gave him a shock when you didn't recognize who he was... or rather had him mixed up with the person in your dream."
"Well, how was I to know that he was different in this world? I didn't even know about Luke until the day I woke up from that coma or whatever it was," Harry replied defensively.
Ron jumped in to support his friend. "Yeah, 'Mione. He was knocked out by a boot to the head. I mean, that would knock anyone out, especially by that Flint bloke."
Harry stared at Ron. "Flint? As in Marcus Flint?"
"I take it you knew him too?"
"Yeah, he was on the Slytherin Quidditch team."
"Slyther... wha?"
"Slytherin, one of the four houses at Hogwarts. Draco was in Slytherin. The others were Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. All three of us were in Gryffindor."
"Hogwarts had a house system?" Hermione asked.
"What exactly is a hog wart? Can hogs have warts?" Ron pondered philosophically only to be silenced by another of Hermione's whacks to the head.
"Hush, you! Anyway, Harry, that school had a house system?"
"Yes. You were placed into your house by the Sorting Hat." This earned Harry stunned silence. He sighed. Harry then explained how the Sorting Hat worked and the qualities of each house.
"Courage and bravery, me? Who'da thunk it? And it sounds like Hermione should have been a Ravenclaw with all her cleverness and her straight A's in school."
The three sat in an enlightened silence until the sweet strains of a violin filtered out into the living room. They sat entranced by the haunting melody.
"Is that Mal- er... Draco?" asked Harry.
Ron smiled. "Yep. He's probably the youngest violinist who is eligible to play in the Symphony, but he turned them down to attend John Vianney. He keeps studying with your mum, though. Claims that while he can still take lessons, he won't join up with any symphony until he's learned everything there is to learn."
The haunting melody soon turned haughty and arrogant, reminding Harry of the Draco he had known. The song, he learned later, was Rondo capriccioso, composed by Camille Saint-Saëns. Draco played the song with the passion and intensity it was meant to have, being written in the romantic era. Baroque composers found this style of music as scandalous because of its display of raw emotion rather than the regality baroque pieces were known for.
Twenty minutes later, Ron and Hermione left for the library ("Hermione keeps bugging me, what choice do I have?"). Harry was going to his room when Draco walked out of the music room. The blonde spotted Harry and walked over to him.
"Did you hear any of it?" Draco asked, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. The sunglasses slipped again.
Harry smirked. "Yeah, I heard the first piece you played. You play very well."
Draco flushed. "It's nothing. After all, I'm still a student. I have all the time in the world to pursue a music career." He tilted his head to the side. "I was hoping that song would jog your memories. You always loved that song." An uncomfortable silence followed. "I guess... it didn't work." He then looked at Harry's cast. "How'd you manage to do that?"
Harry followed his gaze and realized he was talking about his arm. "Apparently after I took that blow to the head, I fell on my arm and fractured it."
Draco winced in sympathy. "Did it hurt?"
"Honestly, I don't remember..."
Again, uncomfortable silence. Harry lightly cleared his throat. "Do you want to go up to my room and talk there?" he asked.
Draco smiled. "Sure thing, mate."
The two boys climbed the stairs and went into Harry's bedroom. The walls were covered with posters from various soccer teams, including one of Manchester United with his Dad wearing the sports safety glasses. Draco chuckled when he saw this poster.
"Your Dad's hilarious. Apparently, it's genetic since you can be, too."
Harry sat on the floor, his back against the wall. "Yeah, he is. It's just really weird for me. I'm still trying to adjust."
Draco sat beside him. "What, you mean your Dad in your dream wasn't funny?"
Harry became quiet. "My parents weren't alive in my dream."
The blonde looked at him, concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Harry then told him of his life before and during Hogwarts up until the Quidditch match. He told him of his adventures with Ron and Hermione, of the numerous conflicts between Draco and him, and of the three times he had fought against Voldemort. By the time he finished relaying this to Draco, the sun was casting long shadows in the bedroom.
"Well, your dream certainly wasn't boring. I'm just wondering how you could have come up with all those 'memories' in two days, though. And you have no memory whatsoever of your past here?"
Harry shook his head. "Dr. Lambton said it would take time. So I have to be patient."
Draco smirked. "Something you're not."
Harry lightly hit him on the arm. "I can be! It's just frustrating that everyone knows what I've done and how I'm like, and I can't even remember what their phone number is."
Draco smiled. "It will take time, like your doctor said. But until then, enjoy yourself! And you know what? You could probably write a series about your dream, including Voldemort and all that."
Harry snorted. "And what would I call it? 'The Adventures of Harry Potter'? Like anyone would want to read it, anyway."
"I was thinking you could do a book for each year you were there and name it for what you did that year, like your first year could be 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.'" The two looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"You're right, bad idea."
Harry looked at his clock on his desk. "Do you have to be home by any particular time?"
Draco glanced at the clock and did a double-take. He jumped up. "I had to be home thirty minutes ago! I gotta run, but I'll stop by soon, okay?" Draco grabbed his violin. "See you!" he said, running out the door.
Harry remained seated on the floor, thinking about how he had spilled his 'life story' to who used to be one of his 'enemies.' "This will take some getting used to," he said to himself, standing up and walking downstairs to the sound of dinner.
======
Author's Note: ::blink:: Whoa... I received seven new reviews! ::happy dance:: Thank you guys!! Thanks goes to Cat, snako, ShiTiger, Vici0usRebL, Bandit-Lone-Wolf, Little Duckie, and one anonymous review. Anyway, I'm glad you guys liked the image of Draco as a hippie. ; He doesn't do drugs, though. ;; Trisha and Tiger completely grilled me that "Joy to the World" by Three Dog Night was a better version than the remake by CCR. I still stand by my opinion that CCR was the best late 60's, early 70's band. Heh... I'm still too lazy to even think about touching my project, and my days until school starts are numbered. Instead, I'm writing this fic because of all the feedback! Responsible student, I am. 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 at the end!
======
A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes (4/?)
"Malfoy," Harry spat.
The look of confusion on Draco's face was rivaled by the one Harry wore when Ron appeared out of nowhere and hugged Draco like he would a long lost brother.
"Draco! It's been a while, 'eh?" Ron laughed, clapping the blonde on the back.
Draco continued to stare perplexed at Harry past Ron's fiery red hair.
"Uh... Ron? Why is Harry gawking at us?"
Ron looked back at his friend.
"Harry? Do you not remember Draco?"
"Why would he not remember me?" Draco muttered.
Harry's brow creased.
"Yeah, I remember him. He was a bigoted, spoiled, rich kid who paraded his support for Voldemort and threw insults and pranks left and right, acting as if he owned the school."
Draco stared, his sunglasses slipping to the tip of his nose. Ron burst out laughing.
"Draco, the vegan, the member of Green Peace and the biggest hippie on the face of this planet, a BIGOT?! My, I'd have to say, Harry, Hell has truly frozen over!" Ron looked out the door up at the sky. "Do you see any flying pigs anywhere, mate?" he asked the bewildered blonde ("I supported who?").
Hermione whacked Ron upside the head. She ignored Ron's whimpering while she greeted Draco brightly.
"Why, Draco, it truly has been a while since I've seen you! Would you please step inside?"
"Sure, 'Mione..." he said, walking past the two boys and following Hermione into the living room. Ron and Harry joined them shortly after closing the door. Draco laid his violin case on the coffee table and sat on the couch.
"Now... what's up with Harry? Why doesn't he remember me?"
Hermione and Ron explained the situation about Harry losing his memory, cringing at the thought of being hit that hard in the head. They also told him about the memory that Harry dreamed up, of the school that taught children how to tame and focus their powers of magic.
"Must have been some hit you took, Harry, m'boy. That school sounds exciting compared to John Vianney, though, eh, Ronnie?" Draco asked.
At that moment Lily peeked back inside the living room.
"There's my pupil! How dare you barbarians keep him from learning!" she admonished, causing everyone to laugh.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter, but I was unaware that Harry here didn't remember one of his best friends," replied the blonde hippie.
Lily smiled softly at Harry. "You all will have time to catch up, but I need to borrow Draco for now, I have two more students coming, and I need to be done with Draco before they can continue with their lessons."
Draco stood up and retrieved his violin. "I'll see you lot later," he said, giving them all a warm smile and following Lily to the playroom-turned- music room.
Hermione faced Harry.
"Poor Draco, you gave him a shock when you didn't recognize who he was... or rather had him mixed up with the person in your dream."
"Well, how was I to know that he was different in this world? I didn't even know about Luke until the day I woke up from that coma or whatever it was," Harry replied defensively.
Ron jumped in to support his friend. "Yeah, 'Mione. He was knocked out by a boot to the head. I mean, that would knock anyone out, especially by that Flint bloke."
Harry stared at Ron. "Flint? As in Marcus Flint?"
"I take it you knew him too?"
"Yeah, he was on the Slytherin Quidditch team."
"Slyther... wha?"
"Slytherin, one of the four houses at Hogwarts. Draco was in Slytherin. The others were Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. All three of us were in Gryffindor."
"Hogwarts had a house system?" Hermione asked.
"What exactly is a hog wart? Can hogs have warts?" Ron pondered philosophically only to be silenced by another of Hermione's whacks to the head.
"Hush, you! Anyway, Harry, that school had a house system?"
"Yes. You were placed into your house by the Sorting Hat." This earned Harry stunned silence. He sighed. Harry then explained how the Sorting Hat worked and the qualities of each house.
"Courage and bravery, me? Who'da thunk it? And it sounds like Hermione should have been a Ravenclaw with all her cleverness and her straight A's in school."
The three sat in an enlightened silence until the sweet strains of a violin filtered out into the living room. They sat entranced by the haunting melody.
"Is that Mal- er... Draco?" asked Harry.
Ron smiled. "Yep. He's probably the youngest violinist who is eligible to play in the Symphony, but he turned them down to attend John Vianney. He keeps studying with your mum, though. Claims that while he can still take lessons, he won't join up with any symphony until he's learned everything there is to learn."
The haunting melody soon turned haughty and arrogant, reminding Harry of the Draco he had known. The song, he learned later, was Rondo capriccioso, composed by Camille Saint-Saëns. Draco played the song with the passion and intensity it was meant to have, being written in the romantic era. Baroque composers found this style of music as scandalous because of its display of raw emotion rather than the regality baroque pieces were known for.
Twenty minutes later, Ron and Hermione left for the library ("Hermione keeps bugging me, what choice do I have?"). Harry was going to his room when Draco walked out of the music room. The blonde spotted Harry and walked over to him.
"Did you hear any of it?" Draco asked, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. The sunglasses slipped again.
Harry smirked. "Yeah, I heard the first piece you played. You play very well."
Draco flushed. "It's nothing. After all, I'm still a student. I have all the time in the world to pursue a music career." He tilted his head to the side. "I was hoping that song would jog your memories. You always loved that song." An uncomfortable silence followed. "I guess... it didn't work." He then looked at Harry's cast. "How'd you manage to do that?"
Harry followed his gaze and realized he was talking about his arm. "Apparently after I took that blow to the head, I fell on my arm and fractured it."
Draco winced in sympathy. "Did it hurt?"
"Honestly, I don't remember..."
Again, uncomfortable silence. Harry lightly cleared his throat. "Do you want to go up to my room and talk there?" he asked.
Draco smiled. "Sure thing, mate."
The two boys climbed the stairs and went into Harry's bedroom. The walls were covered with posters from various soccer teams, including one of Manchester United with his Dad wearing the sports safety glasses. Draco chuckled when he saw this poster.
"Your Dad's hilarious. Apparently, it's genetic since you can be, too."
Harry sat on the floor, his back against the wall. "Yeah, he is. It's just really weird for me. I'm still trying to adjust."
Draco sat beside him. "What, you mean your Dad in your dream wasn't funny?"
Harry became quiet. "My parents weren't alive in my dream."
The blonde looked at him, concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Harry then told him of his life before and during Hogwarts up until the Quidditch match. He told him of his adventures with Ron and Hermione, of the numerous conflicts between Draco and him, and of the three times he had fought against Voldemort. By the time he finished relaying this to Draco, the sun was casting long shadows in the bedroom.
"Well, your dream certainly wasn't boring. I'm just wondering how you could have come up with all those 'memories' in two days, though. And you have no memory whatsoever of your past here?"
Harry shook his head. "Dr. Lambton said it would take time. So I have to be patient."
Draco smirked. "Something you're not."
Harry lightly hit him on the arm. "I can be! It's just frustrating that everyone knows what I've done and how I'm like, and I can't even remember what their phone number is."
Draco smiled. "It will take time, like your doctor said. But until then, enjoy yourself! And you know what? You could probably write a series about your dream, including Voldemort and all that."
Harry snorted. "And what would I call it? 'The Adventures of Harry Potter'? Like anyone would want to read it, anyway."
"I was thinking you could do a book for each year you were there and name it for what you did that year, like your first year could be 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.'" The two looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"You're right, bad idea."
Harry looked at his clock on his desk. "Do you have to be home by any particular time?"
Draco glanced at the clock and did a double-take. He jumped up. "I had to be home thirty minutes ago! I gotta run, but I'll stop by soon, okay?" Draco grabbed his violin. "See you!" he said, running out the door.
Harry remained seated on the floor, thinking about how he had spilled his 'life story' to who used to be one of his 'enemies.' "This will take some getting used to," he said to himself, standing up and walking downstairs to the sound of dinner.
======
Author's Note: ::blink:: Whoa... I received seven new reviews! ::happy dance:: Thank you guys!! Thanks goes to Cat, snako, ShiTiger, Vici0usRebL, Bandit-Lone-Wolf, Little Duckie, and one anonymous review. Anyway, I'm glad you guys liked the image of Draco as a hippie. ; He doesn't do drugs, though. ;; Trisha and Tiger completely grilled me that "Joy to the World" by Three Dog Night was a better version than the remake by CCR. I still stand by my opinion that CCR was the best late 60's, early 70's band. Heh... I'm still too lazy to even think about touching my project, and my days until school starts are numbered. Instead, I'm writing this fic because of all the feedback! Responsible student, I am. Until next time!