Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else that J.K. Rowling created.
Warning: This story is AU due to the fact that I've ignored book five, The Order of The Phoenix because the end of book four was a much better place to start this fan fiction.
Take Backs
Chapter 9: A Wish Within a Nightmare
By Rhiane Raine
"Kill the spare!"
"…No!"
"KILL THE SPARE!!!"
"No, no you can't!" Harry moaned with an uneasy sense of fore boarding. He watched a green light, emanating some distance away. The light seemed to glow brighter and brighter with a bold edge of darker hue around the outside as it continuously grew in size while creeping towards him.
Harry panicked and automatically tried to put distance between himself and the light. The green light was not a good thing. Harry didn't exactly know what it was, but he had a feeling, a horrible feeling, about it being close to him. Somehow, he had subconsciously linked the shrill voice to the eerie green light. Harry tripped and stumbled in his attempt to get away from the glowing. Mud that covered the ground was caked thick over his round glasses and face. He attempted to wipe away some of the mud and grim using his rain saturated sleeve but it only smeared some of it off as his movements were not very firm but rather shaky.
A large gray slab of an object protruded in front of his impaired vision. Reaching out Harry traced the deeply engraved letters on the tombstone with his index finger.
"James Potter," Harry read the name with a quiver in his voice.
Before the grunge-covered boy could fully comprehend what was before him, the green light shone so bright that it tore his attention away from the grave of which he was still half sprawled over.
A deep green ball of light was handing above the familiar graveyard like a core of mavellent energy. The pit of Harry's stomach dropped when he saw the body of Cedric Diggory suspended in the center, spread out like an eagle, as if he were still lying dead on the ground. Harry's breath constricted in his chest.
An evil laugh, piercing and high-pitched, rang through the air. A horrible wave of anticipation washed over the breathless boy as he looked into the red eyes of a fully rebirthed Lord Voldemort.
"Bow to death, Potter!" Voldemort sneered coldly as he walked in a calculating circle around Harry; sizing him up. "After all, your mother did."
Voldemort completed his circle so that he was standing to the side of Harry. In Voldemort's wake a red-haired figure stood, motionless and unblinking. Seeing where Harry's gaze appeared to be, the epitome of evil cackles escaped the dark wizard's mouth.
"I think I shall finish this one better than I did your father. I fear I was much to soft with him, as you well know."
"No!" Harry shouted, horrified at the thought of having his mother murdered.
"Yes, Potter! Say goodbye to Mummy."
Harry tried to leap forward to place himself in front of Voldemort's wand, but his body moved nowhere. Sharps pains in his wrists and ankles caused him to look down. Not only was he tied to his own father's tombstone with robe but he was also wearing a heavy set of metal restraints. The opposite end of the weighty chains belonging attached to his wrist cuff restraints was melded into a baby's crib a good deal of feet away. The chains for his ankles seemed to be cemented into his father's headstone.
"No!" Harry shouted while struggling against his bonds.
Voldemort advanced, wand poised and a demonic grin playing on his lips.
Lily Potter had moved in no way whatsoever, even after Voldemort had come close enough to trail the tip of his wand down one of her cheeks.
"NO! No, Mum, no! Don't kill her, please. Kill me. Kill me instead. MUM!" His pleas proved pointless as the green light that was looming above and all around her engulfed her completely.
Harry was roughly shaken awake. He shot up as if scalded. It took a moment's time for Harry to understand what must have happened. He was sitting up in a strange bed, in a strange room; in a strange house that he had no idea how came to be in having just woken up from a nightmare.
The events from the day flooded in, taking a momentary place over his nightmare. This was the second time that day that this had happened to him. His father was alive…the marauders came to kidnap him.
Sirius was sitting in front of him on the right hand edge of the bed wearing an expression of the utmost shock.
Harry allowed himself to lean forward, placing his elbows on his drawn up knees, attempting to catch his breath. A hand from somewhere behind his left was placed on his shoulder. Harry could feel them shifting closer to Harry, allowing him to lean back against the solid body. The hand was now coaxing Harry into relaxation by rubbing comforting circles on his back.
"Are you alright, Harry? Y…you were mumbling in your, err, nightmare," Sirius asked concernedly. The shock of hearing the evidence of Harry's troubles had caused some uncertain feeling in his Godfather apparently.
Denying his nightmare was no good, as it would highlight his insecurity with having them in bright neon colors for Sirius and Remus to see.
"I'm fine, Sirius."
A creek at the door way alerted Harry to the newly arrived presence of Remus, who was balancing a tray in his hands while he walked through the doorway. The first thought Harry had, was relief that one less person had witnessed his nightmare. But then, the hand that was soothing him paused for only a fraction of a second. It was enough for Harry to realize that he had assumed the persons identity wrongly.
Green eyes looked from Remus to Sirius, reluctant to look for himself and shatter his own dreams. It would be much easier for someone else to tell him he was out of his mind rather than stamping down his own hope of having turning around to see his father.
Either way, he had to know. One glance behind him would prove that his father was not the one sitting behind him. But it was, messy black hair and round-framed glasses stared back at him.
Harry instinctively twisted away, scooting away from his father/clone from the dead as he felt something akin to astonishment. For a moment time seemed to freeze as Harry stared at his dad. While looking he must have leaned backward because his Godfather's hand, tentative and gentle, helped him lean beck into his body.
This proved to be a smart thing to do as Harry was suddenly having problems breathing. That panicky, astounding, shocking, disbelief that he had already felt far too many times that were just as fresh the third or fourth time around.
Here in front of him was living proof that his dream had come true. Here was his father staring at him with the same emotions that he himself felt. Here was his father, back from the dead. Harry's life long wish was right in front of his face. He had dreamed about this ever since he could remember, and yet, Harry had no idea what to say.
James, his father, seemed a little upset that Harry's reaction to seeing him was to scoot away, but said nothing.
To remedy the awkward situation of nobody knowing what to say, Remus stepped forward, his face unreadable.
"Well, I see you two have just met properly!"
"Umm…" Harry stuttered.
All he could think about was how it all seemed too surreal; his Father, Sirius, Remus, here… all alive and with him.
"Well, I'm the adult here so I guess I'll start. Hi! I'm your father, James."
