Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters it contains. Harry Potter is the property of JKRowling and Scholastic Books, don't sue me, I don't have the wherewithal to defend myself and frankly, it wouldn't be worth it.

Summary: If all of our dreams came true, we would have nothing but nightmares. So is it better to be living your dearest fantasies and suffering in our sleep, or living as we are now with everything as it is?

If I Dreamt You...

Harry Potter's eyes shot open and he sat up in a cold sweat, unsure of where he was or how he'd gotten there. The room was well lit and airy, with light filtering through the window hangings. It was his room, there was the poster of the Weird Sisters (wow the drummer was hot), and his bookshelf (courtesy of Hermione) everything was the same and very different. He took precisely seven deep breaths and waited for his heart to stop pounding, his disorientation was very slowly seeping away, but it left him with a adrenaline-shaking-hands. On the foot of his bed was his mother holding a steaming mug in her hands, "Harry." She said gently in the wary tone she used when he woke up this panicked. Every once in a while, when he was very tired, or sleeping very deeply, he woke up screaming or very nearly ready too. It was always embarrassing after the fact, especially when his father teased him about it, but for a split second, everything in this world was unfamiliar and terrifying, and it wasn't funny at all.

"Harry, sweet heart, it's just me. You need to wake up. Hop in the shower before we go to King's Cross. I brought you a cup of coffee."

She climbed off his bed and turned to leave, but Harry called her back. "Mum…" she sat down again, with her hand on his knee. "I just had one heck of a nightmare. You and dad were… well, You-Know-Who got you and dad, and I was living with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Sirius was, you'll think this is ridiculous, he was an escapee from Azkaban, there was a prophecy, and everything was dizzy and, I was in the tri-wizard tournament, Cedric Diggory died…"

"Sounds like quite the dream." She said finally, cutting him off when he became nonsensical, honestly, talking about Vernon and Petunia when he knew their relations absolutely hated them. Kissing him on the forehead, where he realized there was no scar, "Your father and I will meet you in the kitchen in half an hour."

Harry yawned and shook his head to clear it; when his mother shut the door he buried his nose in his coffee and the dream was gone. Every year at this time, his mother brought him just enough caffeine to get going, his father cooked breakfast, and everyone, including Sirius came to wish him well as he got on the Hogwarts Express. He would meet Ron and Hermione on the train, make himself sick with a number of contraband sweets that Sirius slipped him in the moments before he boarded, have his yearly altercation with Draco Malfoy and his ridiculous little goons, and spend the rest of the trip in contented happiness while Ron regaled him with tales of the massive Weasley family. Some of which, like the filibusters in the fruitcake incident, he'd experienced himself.

Quidditch season would start, he would ruthlessly battle the other seekers from other teams… okay it wasn't his fault that he kept losing to Cho Chang. The girl was incredible, and his overwhelming crush on her was helping not at all. Speaking of, would Ginny Weasley and Seamus Finnegan ever get together? Would Ron ever let them?

Hermione would bother him about his studies for months; he and Ron would spend long hours talking over a chess game about how much fun they could have if Harry's dad would just let him borrow the invisibility cloak. 'Just this once dad… please! It would be so good to prank that smarmy git Malfoy, you remember what it's like… please?!' About halfway through the year, McGonagall would finally catch them sneaking down to the kitchen like a pair of fugitives while Hermione waited sullenly in the common room at the other end of the portable floo she'd invented in 3rd year to communicate with Harry and Ron while they were 'out.'

Every year they went home for Christmas, spent at least one day of their break together to drink cocoa and exchange gifts in Diagon Alley, and just before they all met at King's Cross once more to head back for the end of term Harry would pump his dad. 'Has Professor Dumbledore said anything new about You-Know-Who? Neville's potion's grades are still abysmal, but he's got a bit of skill in DADA, and he'll always be the best with herbology, but… please dad, mom, keep me informed. Please.'

Hermione would be studying for her N.E.W.Ts in early September, but he and Ron wouldn't start until after the Christmas holiday. 'Oh Hermione' he could hear Ron's voice in his head, 'the N.E.W.Ts are ages away!' 'That's what you said about O.W.Ls and look what happened with those.' her prim response 'Hey! Harry got five and I got four, that's not half bad.' 'Ron…'

Harry grinned, it was looking out to be an interesting year, even in his mind. It was interesting in other ways too of course, he would be moving on at the end of this year, growing up and getting out of Hogwarts. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, he couldn't wait to see what happened. "Harry! Breakfast!" His father's voice calling him from the kitchen, Harry could smell bacon wafting through his bedroom door, oh he loved the way his father cooked bacon, Harry never perfected the technique.

"Thanks! I'll be down in a sec!"

Harry Potter's eyes shot open, his vision was blurry, wasn't the window on the wrong side of the room? Where had his Weird Sister's poster with the cute drummer gone? Oh wait, it took him a moment to calm down and realize he was in his dormitory at school, Ron was staring at him sideways in a mixture of concern and bewildered curiosity. "Harry mate?" He asked tentatively, recognizing the look in Harry's eye, as though he were about to scream, "Are you all right? Is it your scar?"

Harry sighed heavily and looked down at his crossed legs, the blankets crumpled in his lap. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a good dream."

Fin

AN: Awright… I ought to clear up the motive for that one grins. Sorry, Miss Leah and I were chatting about one of her story ideas and I decided that I don't like stories where Harry's parents are alive. Yes, it's a lovely little dream, but that's all it can ever be, because there are so many things in the world that would completely change if Harry's parents were alive. Harry Potter wouldn't be Harry Potter if James and Lily were alive, it's the horrible things in life that make us human grins. Face it, if HP's parents were alive, he'd be creepy as hell.

Oh, and I apologize if anything was spelled wrong or if I've got homonym issues. Please, if you catch them, point them out to me.