Summary: What if Tom Riddle had never been born? What if such a world existed? And what if Harry could go to that World and feel what it would be like to have a family?
Harry awoke with a start.
A second ago, he'd been sleeping soundly. Then he'd felt a soft kiss on his forehead.
Harry rubbed his eyes quickly, trying to see. The room was unusually bright. Someone was opening the blinds, letting the sunshine flow in. Harry started for the second time in less than a minute. A woman with long red hair was moving around the room- the room! It was big, much bigger than it was before… It also looked different. Harry groped around for his glasses and put them on hastily. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the light.
The room wasn't anything like Harry's room at the Dursley's. It had much more things in it, for a start. The walls weren't white, but blue. There was a big window, a desk, and even a corner which held a broom, a bookshelf full of what seemed like quiddich books, and a box not unlike the one in Hogwarts which held the bludgers, the quaffle and the snitch. The walls were covered in posters of different quiddich teams, some of which Harry recognized.
'Harry, get up already, it's past eleven.'
Harry looked away from the walls, suddenly remembering the woman. He looked at her and felt as if all the blood had drained from his face. Someone was holding his heart in a tight grip; it had stopped beating for a moment. In front of him was standing a woman almost identical to the one he'd seen so often in pictures the album Hagrid had given him held. She had startling green eyes and long, red hair. She was an older version of Lily Potter.
Lily was now stacking shirts inside Harry's closet. She hadn't notice the way her eldest son was looking at her. She was humming a soft tune to herself. Closing the closet door, she turned to him once more, not really looking at his face.
'Harry, I said get up. You'll be late.'
And with that, she swept out of the room as if nothing had happened. As if it wasn't the first time Harry had heard his mother, her real voice, not her shrieks and pleads to Voldemort in her final moments, apart from that one time in the pensieve. As if it wasn't the first time he could remember ever being in the same room with her.
Surely I'm dreaming, thought Harry, feeling dazed and disoriented. He pinched himself, hard. It hurt.
Harry got up slowly, his legs shaking. He rubbed his eyes once more. A second later, he heard footsteps, and looked to the door. For the second time that day, his heart skipped a bit. A man nearly identical to his father had just walked by, looking distracted.
Harry jumped up, suddenly remembering the events of last night very clearly.
Harry was on his way to McGonagall's office. He'd just returned from another long search for Hufflepuff's Cup. It had proved to be another fruitless search. Hermione had been wrong in thinking visiting the orphanage would perhaps give them some ideas. She had been wrong. They couldn't find the woman Harry had seen Dumbledore speaking with in the pensieve last year. She was dead by now, of course. No one else seemed to know or remember much about Tom Riddle. The file containing information about the young Riddle's stay at the orphanage had been missing for over 40 years. Feeling quite defeated, Harry, Ron and Hermione had returned to Hogwarts, for now. Harry wanted to try to talk with Dumbledore's portrait. He didn't know how much information Dumbledore's imprint would know or remember, but it was worth a shot. Harry wished wistfully that he could have a moment of piece. He was feeling tired and overwhelmed. He found himself wishing, for the tenth time this year that Voldemort had never been born.
Harry was now walking by the Room of Requirement. Suddenly, a door appeared. Feeling curious, he turned the handle and stepped into a small room.
There was nothing special about the way the room looked. It was completely empty, except for a golden star that was hovering in the middle of the room.. Harry tried to remember what he'd been wishing as he was walking by the room. He remembered abruptly. He was wishing that Voldemort had never existed.
Harry looked at the hovering gold star with interest. What was the star for? If he were to touch it, would something happen? Would it, perhaps, bring him back in time, to prevent Merope from feeding Tom Riddle that love potion?
Harry looked around, searching for a clue. Nothing else appeared.
Feeling desperate and reckless, Harry reached forwards. He took a deep break, and enclosed his hand around the star. A second later, all was dark.
Harry jumped as if beaten by a snake. What was this place? Why was he sleeping in a bed in a room he didn't recognize? Why was his mom in here a minute ago, talking to him as if she were used to doing so on a daily basis? Why had his dad just walked by what was apparently Harry's room without even looking shocked at being in the same house as the son he hadn't held since he was a baby?
Harry shuddered. What was going on?
Please review!