āThe scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.ā
Harry sat up in bed, his body sweat from his intense dreaming. His hand absentmindedly reached up to his forehead but what he felt was smooth skin. No scabbing from what might have been a lightening bolt scar. He groaned softly, rubbing the skin there. Everything had felt so real.Ā
He looked around his room. It was much bigger than the room under the stairs that he had imagined so vividly in what could have only been a dream. He didnāt recognize it as the Dursleyās house.Ā
Cautiously. Harry slipped out of bed and looked around his more closely. The walls were littered in pictures of him with his family. He paused when he came across one photo in particular.
āI recognize them,ā Harry whispered under his breath as his fingers traced the faces in the picture.Ā
Sirius - Uncle Pads - was on the far left. Next to him was James- my dad, Harry thought.Ā Next to James stood Harry himself, smiling brightly, freshly five years old. Harryās eyebrows furrowed as he continued to examine the photograph. Standing on Harryās right was Lily - mum - and next to him stood Remus - Uncle Moony.Ā
They all stood about the photo, laughing and looking at eachother lovingly.Ā
Harry felt oddly confused as he looked at the photograph. How was he standing with these people at such a young age. They had died at war. None of it seemed to make any sense.
āHarry, love! Come downstairs!ā
Harryās head turned toward his door quickly. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldnāt quite place it. He felt around his pants pocket for his wand. but he couldnāt find it. Taking one more sweep around the bedroom, he spotted a wand that didnāt resemble the one he had used for so many years.
āComing!ā He shouted back, taken aback by his high pitched voice. It sounded as though he had yet to go through puberty. But that couldnāt be it, he was an adult now. Or was he?
Hurriedly, Harry grabbed the wand from the bedside table and gripped it tightly as he slowly left the room. He scanned the hallway, surprised to see more family portraits hanging on the walls. As he emerged in the kitchen, he paused, his breath hitching in his throat as he saw a man standing at the stove, flipping some omelets, his hair an unruly mess. Across at the other counter, a woman with bright red hair stood, pouring some water from the kettle.
At the dining table, two men sat, one with longer hair and a leather jacket, the other with scars on his face, a beaning hiding most of his hair except for his bangs.
The woman turned, hearing Harry gasp slightly at the sight.
āMorning love! You ready for your first day of Hogwarts?ā she asked, smiling softly at him.
āFirst day of Hogwarts?ā
āProngslet is probably still a little groggy.ā
āBut- what?ā Harry shook his head, his hand gripping his wand tightly.Ā āIāve already finished Hogwarts.ā
āJames are you sure that fake quaffle you threw at him didnāt do any damage?ā Remus laughed as Lily walked up to Harry, placing her hand on her head.
āAre you feeling alright Harry?ā
At her touch, memories came flooding back to him. The second Wizarding War never happened. The Order of the Phoenix had won the war after finding out that Peter Pettigrew was spying for Voldemort. James and Lily survived and Harry grew up with his loving family. Tears welled up in little eleven year old Harryās eyes as he dropped his wand and quickly wrapped his arms around Lily.
The woman laughed, slightly caught of guard by the sudden affection, but she enjoyed it none the less. Another pair of arms wrapped around them, followed by two more pairs.
This came to me after I came across a post about what if harry woke up back in the cupboard under the stairs after everything that happened. So I thought I would do something about it. Itās pretty bad, but oh well.
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