Chapter 7: As the sun rises
The wish… as soon as Sam had said the words, the turmoil in Harry's mind had ceased. He'd made a wish in a dream. Of course – what else could it be? It had to still be a dream. Rather than the usual sluggishness he'd experienced when he'd been awake recently, he felt the same wakeful awareness that he had in the dreams he'd shared with Sam. That should have been his first clue.
Harry took a deep breath and his heartrate gradually slowed. He sat up on the small bed where a spell had him confined and looked around him.
Judging from the toys littering the carpet and the Quidditch posters, he was in Sam's bedroom. The boy in question was having a rapid conversation with… – Harry hesitated, trying to decide what to call the man who was currently kneeling in front of Sam – with James, he decided at last.
That small decision made him feel slightly better, more in control though really, who was he kidding? He had no control whatsoever over what was going on and weirdly he was alright with that if it meant he could get even a glimpse of the life that Sam had told him about – a life with both of their parents, together, alive…
Harry set the thought aside and turned his attention back to James. The man had looked shaken up when Sam had mentioned the wish, and even now, Harry could tell from the way he'd deliberately placed both his palms on the floor that he was trying to stop them from shaking.
At that moment, James turned around to look at Harry, and though he visibly swallowed before speaking, his voice was steady when he did.
"If I release you from the spell, will you leave without a fuss?" he asked.
Leave? Harry considered the question. Leave – sure, but how?
"But – but Dad," Sam said, speaking up before Harry had worked out how to answer. "Harry doesn't have anywhere to go here."
At that, James closed his eyes again and sighed deeply, which caused Sam to start speaking at breakneck speed, explaining the dreams, the wish and everything else all over again.
Well, if this is a Death Eater trap it's bloody elaborate, Harry thought ruefully. And somehow, he didn't really think it was that this time… For one, most of the Death Eaters had been rounded up after the Battle of Hogwarts, that much he knew, but also, he wasn't sure what purpose this whole masquerade would serve. And it didn't really seem like their usual style.
"It's alright Sam," James said after a moment. Sam stopped talking immediately and fixed his father with an ardent look.
"I believe you," James carried on. He shot a glance at Harry from the corner of his eyes, and Harry understood the subtext – he believed that Sam really meant what he was saying, but it didn't mean he believed Harry was simply a harmless dream visitor.
And really, Harry couldn't blame him. If anything, he couldn't help thinking that the man was surprisingly laid back about the situation. If their roles had been reversed, Harry was pretty sure he'd have had the intruder tied up and gagged rather than lounging on a bed, restrictive spell or not…
But then he supposed people in Sam's world hadn't just got out of a gruesome war.
Eventually, after several more minutes of deliberation, James had declared that he needed to make a call.
"Sam, I want you to stay here and get dressed. And…" James met Harry's eyes and faltered. "And I'll be taking you downstairs," he said.
Downstairs, far away from Sam, in a place where he could be left alone unsupervised with little risk to the rest of the family.
James's wand remained on Harry after he'd lifted the confinement spell – not that Harry had expected anything else. He stood up and padded across the room at James's prompting.
"See you later Harry!" Sam said brightly, though his smile faltered when he saw that his father wasn't lowering his wand as he followed Harry out of the room.
Harry did his best to give him an encouraging smile. The last thing he wanted was for Sam to worry about him.
"Down this way," James said, nodding towards the staircase.
The house was dark still and peaceful after the tense atmosphere in Sam's room, and Harry felt himself relax slightly despite the wand pointed at his back. Even for a dream, the whole situation was so surreal, Harry felt a slightly manic smile tug at his lips. He raised his gaze and caught James watching him, his eyes unreadable. Immediately the urge to laugh was gone.
"Left here," James said when they'd made their way down the two flights of carpeted stairs. Harry heard the slap of James's bare feet against the tiles as they crossed the hallway and entered a kitchen that looked much more like the Burrow's than Aunt Petunia's spotless one, Harry noted appreciatively.
The light of day was just barely brushing the corners of the flowery curtains. It caught on the dishes on the draining board and lit up the large clock that tick-tocked away from its place on the wall.
"Take a seat," James said, pointing at the large wooden table that took up the majority of the room.
Without a word, Harry pulled out a chair and, after a beat, James cleared up a space among the collection of papers, fruit and tea towels that cluttered the surface of the table and plopped a glass of water in front of Harry.
"Thanks," Harry said, surprised.
James simply nodded in response and headed for the door. As he crossed the threshold, Harry felt the trickle of a confinement spell settling around him, cutting him off from the rest of the house.
"I'll be right back," James said. Then the door closed behind him, and for the first time since his arrival in Sam's world, Harry was alone with his thoughts.
He gave a long sigh, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, running through everything that had happened since he'd woken up on Sam's bed and had stood, facing his father from another world. He wasn't really sure what he'd expected when he'd made the wish, but it probably wasn't this… How long, he wondered grimly, until he woke up back in his own world, back in his dark house, in his lonely life…? He could feel the familiar sense of hopelessness rear its head at the thought…
Thankfully, Harry wasn't left alone for long. Barely five minutes after James had left, Sam barged into the kitchen, bouncing with excitement. And he'd brought his collection of Chocolate Frog cards.
"Er, Sam, are you sure you should be here?" Harry asked, but the boy just ignored his question and, flipping open the album, he shouted: "Harry, look!" and started pointing out his favourite cards.
"And then," Sam was saying, beaming up at Harry, "and then, I can show you the – the book we talked about, that Uncle Moony got me, that you said you also had in your world. And then we can play Lego. And then…"
Sam stopped mid-sentence as the kitchen door opened and a girl of about twelve shuffled in, her nose buried in a book. Harry felt his jaw drop.
From the tip of her shoulder-length hair, messed up with sleep, to her skinny, knobbly knees poking out from her pyjama shorts, she looked just like Harry – Harry as a girl, with long hair, hazel eyes and freckles.
"Hey Vi," Sam greeted her cheerfully, but the only thing he got in return was a grunt.
The girl poured herself a glass of juice and popped some bread in the toaster.
Sam was almost vibrating with enthusiasm. "Hey Vi, guess what?"
"Don't know, don't care," she muttered without turning around.
At that, Sam's face fell but his frown quickly vanished.
"Fine," he said in a sing-song voice. "I won't tell you then…"
That seemed to have the desired effect. 'Vi' turned around, her eyes narrowed. She jumped a bit when she noticed Harry – and he wondered whether maybe she'd mistaken him for James at a glance. The thought did something strange to his stomach.
"Who's that?" she asked.
Sam's smile took an evil edge. "As if I'm going to tell you now," he said.
"Shut up, shrimp. Where's Dad?"
"I'm not telling," Sam replied in same annoying voice.
'Vi' groaned in annoyance, grabbed her toast and, after a last glare at Sam and Harry, stalked out of the kitchen bellowing "Daaaaad!" at the top of her lungs.
"That's Violet," Sam said as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "She used to play with me, but now that she goes to Hogwarts she's been really mean. Hey, do you want to see my broom?"
"Er…" Harry hesitated. "Your… er… dad wants me to stay here I think…"
"Don't worry, it's fine," Sam said, hopping off his chair and pulling Harry along. To his surprise, he wasn't immediately thrown back to his chair by the confinement charm.
"Come on!" Sam shouted, and Harry took one step, then another until he reached the door… One more step, and he stood on the doorstep, looking out at a stretch of grass surrounded on all sides by a leafy wood. Blinking in the daylight, he hesitated. He knew James had meant for him to stay in the kitchen. Clearly, the man must have been more flustered than he'd let on and hadn't cast his spell properly.
But then, Harry reasoned, if it really was a dream, what harm could it do? He gave a shrug and followed Sam out into the morning sun.
A/N: So I didn't quite hit the two-day turnaround time I'd planned for, but again, this chapter gave me some trouble. Hope it was worth the wait though – let me know what you thought! Thank you all for reading :)