CHAPTER TWO
The Man Who Lived
Harry Potter awoke with a start. For the first time in almost twenty years, a nightmare had jolted him from his sleep, leaving him sat upright drenched in cold sweat. It had been a strange dream. He was eating lunch with his Uncle Vernon, who looked much older, and discussing the weather. As they began to talk about the rain in Manchester, Uncle Vernon started to wither and decay and a man with a scar down his face opened a door that wasn't there. It was at this point in his dream that he woke. Beside him, Harry's wife, Ginny, stirred. He wasn't sure whether to wake her, troubling her with his dreams seemed childish, but he couldn't shake the fact that this was the first dream so real since his encounters with Voldemort; a Dark Wizard Harry had aided to destroy. "What's up?" asked a small, tired voice. "Sorry, Ginny" began Harry "I... had a dream. A dream about my Uncle." She sat up suddenly, eyes fully awake with interest and compassion. "Your Uncle?" she repeated. "Yes." Harry closed his eyes "I still remember his funeral. I still remember how I felt, how I thought it was my fault, knew it was my fault." Ginny looked apprehensive. "It wasn't your fault. He died because of... them, the Death Eaters." Harry, still with his eyes closed "But it wasn't that which worried me. Dudley was missing. He didn't come." Ginny looked unable to say anything, but the fact that she was there was comfort enough to Harry. Sensing he had change the tone of the conversation, he turned to her and asked "Are we still going to Ron and Hermione's this weekend? Only I have a lot of work to do for the Ministry and..." "Harry Potter! It is my brothers, your brother-in-law's birthday! No amount of Ministry work is going to stop you from celebrating that!" Harry briefly admired how beautiful his wife looked when feigning anger and smiled. "Of course, you know this means I won't get paid overtime..." "We'll manage." She replied, and leaned in for a kiss.
Later that morning, however, the thought of his dream still haunted Harry. Why had the dream felt so real? His scar didn't hurt, though it would be ridiculous to think it was Voldemort again, so what was it? Harry had always felt that he was gifted in the art of premonition, even if it had got him – and others – into more trouble than it was worth. After quickly cleaning himself and getting dressed, Harry heard the pattering of small feet running towards his and Ginny's bedroom. The door swung open with surprising force, and it its frame stood a young girl with flaming red hair reminiscent of her mother, looking slightly too short for someone her age. Her usual charming grin-filled face was, however, sunken into grimace with stifled tears dripping down her cheeks. "What's up Lily? What's up sweetheart?" Harry asked, pushing the thoughts of the dream easily aside. "I-it's... Fluffy!" Lily yelled through the sobs. She brought her hands from behind her back to reveal what looked like a particularly ugly rat. "H-he t-turned my Fluffy into a... into a rat!" Lily's head titled downwards, which was lucky for Harry as he was trying hard to suppress a smile. "Let me guess... James did this?" Lily nodded her head slowly and held out the now pulsating rat to her father. With a soft sigh Harry pulled out his wand and whispered "Finite Incantatem." Within seconds, what once sat a disfigured rat was a rather small, snowy-white rabbit. It looked up at Harry and seemed to give him an approving twitch of the nose. "OK, now. She's all better, look." Upon seeing her precious pet restored, the tears disappeared and Lily – now with the usual grin on her face – enveloped Harry in a hug.
Morning routine in the Potter household would have been peculiar to any Muggle even if it hadn't been such a particularly important morning. Lily was beginning her education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the foremost teaching institution of magic in the world. Not only that, but Albus and James, Harry's other two children, where getting ready to start their third and fourth years respectively. James, while the eldest, was also the most likely to get into trouble. His antics at Hogwarts over the years and been responded with Howlers (letters that literally yell their contents), rather unjustly Harry thought, given his penchant for ignoring school rules. Albus (or Al, as he preferred to be called) was the exact opposite. Quiet, but gifted, was Professor Longbottom's assertion when he last met Harry and Ginny. Over the loud noise of Ginny giving James a stern telling off (something that she inherited from her mother), Harry was helping Lily pack the last of school things.
"Will I need a spell to keep the Sorting Hat from putting me in Slytherin?" she asked eyes wide half with wonder, half with fear. Harry chuckled lightly, and said "No. All you need to do is tell it where you want to go. That's all" Harry added when he saw the uncertain beginnings of a retort. Harry wondered to himself which of the four houses she would be placed in. James was a Gryffindor, whilst Al was in Ravenclaw. Truthfully, he told himself, if wouldn't matter where she was going to end up, she was a special one.
Eventually (after much disorganised to-ing and fro-ing), the Potter family prepared to leave for Kings Cross, the train station in London by which was the only means of getting the magically-hidden Hogwarts. As they climbed into their car, a Ford Anglia given to them as a wedding present by Arthur Weasley, Ginny's father, Harry was careful to check that they had everything. "Yeah, dad I've got my bloody wand!" yelled James arrogantly, but before Harry could say anything, Ginny – with her face filling with blood – gave James a look that sent him into a wave of thousand apologies. "Right then," Harry said pointedly "now we have that sorted, let's get out of here." The car sprang to life as Harry turned the key. He fondly remembered one of his previous experiences with a Ford Anglia. It was a long time ago, in his second year to be exact, and it involved a giant spider named Aragog, a very violent tree and he and Ron's almost expulsion from Hogwarts. Harry laughed inwardly, and concentrated on driving.
The Potter's lived in Godric's Hollow, the place where so much of his life had been predetermined for him. It was there that his parents lived, before being killed by the Dark Lord Voldemort. It was where his Head Teacher, Albus Dumbledore lived with a somehow more depressing and eventful life. Harry and Ginny had decided to live there in a lasting tribute to them. Various witches and wizards from all around the country would often visit Godric's Hollow just to see him, though it had petered away as the time moved on from his victory over Voldemort in The Battle of Hogwarts. Harry never got used to the idea of being famous, ever since his friend Hagrid introduced him to the world of wizards when he was eleven. Now, Harry was old enough not to be perturbed by the fame, and others respected that. Most of the fanfare came in a letter, asking only to be read.
After a rather long drive (the motorway was held up by an accident), the Potter family reached Kings Cross. As usual, there were many families busying around trying to organise themselves, to the delight of Ginny who enjoyed watching her well thought out preparation go on display. They had planned to meet with Ron and Hermione before they sent their children on the train, and – as he thought it – they appeared amidst the crowds gathered. As they got nearer, both sets of parents began to smile and when they were close enough, Hermione and Ginny grabbed each other in a hug. "How are you?" Ginny asked. "Fine," Hermione answered "but someone forgot to pack the kids' lunches." Ron looked abashed, and then quickly set his sights on a laughing Harry. "Don't know what you're laughing at, mate," he said with a slight smile "remember last year? The cloak fiasco?" They all began to laugh – much to the embarrassment of the children present. "How's George?" Ginny asked with a slight nervousness to her voice. "He's fine, the shop's doing OK – I often go back to help because, well, I think he needs someone there sometimes." Ron replied.
Harry and Ron turned to look at their children. Lily was busy chatting away animatedly to a very scared-looking ginger haired boy, whose name was Hugo – son to Ron. "Can you believe we're doing this all over again?" Ron said. "First years? It only feels like yesterday that we sent the last lot!" Harry warmly smiled and said "I remember our first meeting. Right there over there." Harry pointed to a large column in the middle of the platform. Can you believe that was nearly thirty years ago?" "Hold on mate, don't say that too loud. I don't want people thinking I'm old!" Ron said. Then his face turned serious, which Harry noticed: "What is it?" "Well, I didn't know if I should've told you last week after the Auror meeting, but..." All of a sudden, they were called over by Ginny and Hermione "Listen, I'll tell you later," Harry didn't look convinced "it's nothing serious! Trust me!" Harry, Ron and the children ran over to the train. Rose, Ron and Hermione's eldest child, dragged Al into the train talking excitedly about the on-going Quidditch World Cup Final, which had lasted – so far – five weeks. As the children gathered on the train, Harry noticed something very peculiar. It was Draco Malfoy's wife – Astoria – without Draco.
Harry and Draco had a disagreeable time in Hogwarts – culminating in Harry saving his life during The Battle of Hogwarts. This, he believed, was the reason why Draco was reasonable at the Ministry in his position as assistant to the Minister of Magic. Indeed, Harry had to admire Draco's successful attempt to make himself a better person. Harry turned to Ginny and said "I'll be one moment, meet me at the car. Don't worry, I'll be quick." As he got closer, Astoria looked paler that she usually did. Her beautiful face was distorted with lines which, Harry thought, of worry. Instead of her usual elegant dress she wore for seeing her son, Scorpius, off with it seemed that she had dressed in a hurry. "Astoria?" Harry said. It seemed to take a minute for her to realise he was there. "Oh. Harry." She said, nonchalantly. "Where's Draco?" Harry asked. "He's... away – for the Ministry," and before he could retort, added "look, I've got to go" and she hurried away in the opposite direction. Harry, for a second, thought he could hear sobbing.
When he returned to the car to a disgruntled Ginny, he didn't mention his brief talk with Astoria, instead making up a story about talking to a fellow Auror. "Sometimes," she began, "I worry about you." Harry smiled and said "You don't have to." Ginny relented, "OK, we've got to get back quickly. I've just heard that Italy have gone ahead in the World Cup Final, and I need to return to writing the match report. It's been going on for so long that the Prophet has decided to condense the sports page into a column – no-one is interested! Not interested? This is the best final in years! It's only because England were trounced by Scotland in the first round..."