Chapter 3: The Potter Family
"Harry, wake up! It's Christmas!"
An unfamiliar, excited female voice rang in Harry's ears. He snapped his eyes open and looked around slowly. He was in an average-sized bedroom painted cornflower blue with a wide window to his left. Navy blue curtains hung around the window. Harry could see that it was snowing heavily outside. The room looked like an ordinary boy's room - with the exception that it was obviously for a wizard boy with Quidditch paraphranelia and spellbooks lying pell mell across the desk. There were picture frames with wizard photos waving back at him on the wood dressers and shelves and Harry thought he saw himself in several shots.
With an unpleasant jolt, Harry remembered what had happened the previous day and thought, Oh no, Neville did it. He caused Voldemort kill Neville instead of me! Who is this girl? Where am I?
Harry sat up to take a closer look at his surroundings. He was laying in a bed with matching navy blue blankets. The girl that had awoken him was sitting at the foot of his bed, bouncing a bit anxiously, but with a gamine grin and shining eyes. She had bright auburn hair that flowed past her shoulders and green eyes. At first glance, Harry thought the girl was his mother; she looked almost identical to Lily Potter. However, after he looked more closely he discovered that she wasn't Lily Potter, she was someone else. But who?
"Who are you?" he asked her uncertainly.
"Harry!" She wrinkled her nose in annoyance, "Stop teasing and come down to the family room to open your presents! Mummy and Dad are waiting for us." She slid off the bed and hurried out of the room. Harry sat up, his mind reeling. Mummy and Dad - were his parents alive too? His stomach twisted in excitement and nervousness. Was this really happening? Could that girl really be his sister, and did he really have his parents or was it all just an elaborate dream? There was only one way to find out.
He got up from the bed and saw that he was wearing plaid red and white pajama pants and a plain white shirt. He also noticed that he was not as skinny as he was before - his body was more full and less scrawny. He reckoned it had something to do with growing up with love, like he would have if he grew up with his parents, instead of being neglected with the Dursleys.
He crossed the room and opened the door to a narrow hallway leading to a staircase. Harry rushed to the stair and descended two steps at a time. In the main hall he could see half of a plushy couch in the room at the end and hear several different voices coming from the same room, so he hurried toward the family room; eager to see what was awaiting him.
He came to a rather large living area with two couches facing each other, a coffee table in between, and a fireplace with a fire going. A Christmas tree was placed in the corner of the room, decorated with an assortment of different colored lights, baubles, and a gold star at the top. The girl that had been in his room earlier was kneeling down next to the tree and looking misty-eyed at the glistening packages. Harry's mother, looking the same as Harry had remembered her but with slight wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and eyes, was sitting on the couch drinking coffee and looking tired but pleased nonetheless. His father, almost identical to himself but an older version, was tending to the fireplace.
"Harry, dear, you're finally up," said his mother. "Come over and open your present! Your father and I think you are going to love it. Go ahead, Aubrianna, you can unwrap yours." So, my presumed sister's name is Aubrianna, thought Harry.
Instead of going over to the package that was marked with his name, Harry stood rooted to the carpet, staring at the tableau before him. All of it was overwhelming. Here was his family… no, what would have been his family if Voldemort hadn't tried to kill Harry when he was a baby. Even though he was feeling confused and startled, Harry felt torn. The atmosphere was warm and full of love - everything Harry had always yearned for in his heart; a real family that he could call his own. The Potters.
"Harry, what's wrong?" asked his mother. Harry had a million questions boiling inside of his head, but he knew that of course they didn't know Harry had memories from another timeline - one where they were dead and Aubrianna had never existed and that he was completely new to this one. He blurted out a question anyway.
"Do you know who Voldemort is?"
The sudden question changed the atmosphere completely; Aubrianna stopped unwrapping her present automatically and looked up at Harry with a frightened look, his father stopped tending to the fire to look over at Harry questioningly and his mother put down her cup of coffee and looked startled. Harry inferred that they did.
"Harry, is there something the matter? Of course, we know who Voldemort is. You know that. Do you have a fever? Did you have a bad dream?" She got up and walked over to him, putting her hand on his forehead with a worried expression.
"Is he reigning the Wizarding World?"
"What has gotten into you, son?" Harry's father finally spoke up. "Does he have a high fever, Lily? He seems a little delirious. Of course he's reigning the wizarding world - he has for the past twenty years." Harry's heart sank. He decided not to ask any more questions.
"Oh yeah," he said blankly, lying. "I had a bad dream and forgot."
"It's okay, honey, happens to me occasionally as well. Sometimes I wake up and think that all of the bad things that have happened are just a nightmare, but I awake and find that it's all too true," said Lily. She put her arm around his shoulder and led him to the Christmas tree.
"I think this one is yours." She picked up a long, slender package wrapped in shiny green paper and held it out to Harry. He took it and slowly unwrapped it.
"A Firebolt," he said once he finished unwrapping it, more to himself then anyone. "Oh, a Firebolt!" he cried with more enthusiasm. He was more bewildered and startled at the sudden existence of his family to be happy that he was getting a Firebolt . . . again.
"We knew that you wanted it badly," said Lily, beaming at Harry.
"Especially since your old broom has gone past its glory days," said James. Harry nodded, a smile plastered on his face.
"Ooh, Mommy, I love it!" exclaimed Aubrianna from the other side of the Christmas tree. "It's wonderful! Thanks!" she got up and kissed her mother on the cheek. Harry couldn't see what Lily had gotten her; it was hidden beneath silver wrapping paper.
"You're welcome," said Lily warmly. "And now, I think a good breakfast is in order." She walked over to the cozy kitchen next to the family room and started assembling her ingredients and pans. James took the Firebolt from Harry's hands and examined it carefully.
"What a beauty," he murmured. "I would have loved to have had this when I was Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. You're lucky, son." However, James' hair had tiny flecks of gray in them and his eyes looked tired and old, like they had seen too much in his life.
"Yeah," Harry said quietly.
"Why don't you and me go fly in the backyard after breakfast and take it out on a test run?"
"Sure, but let me go put it in my room for now," Harry said as he took it from his father and headed back up to his room. The shock of going from being an orphan to suddenly having parents and a sibling the next day was frightening in a way. He didn't have any memories of growing up with his family or going to school. All he had was the memories of the world from which he had been taken by Neville's actions; the memories of Ron and Hermione; of defeating Voldemort and watching him rise again; of the life with the Dursleys. He didn't know how long he would be in this world - although he didn't mind it all that much, he thought hastily - he was a little edgy at the thought of staying here nonetheless.
He put the Firebolt on his bed and walked over to sit on the window seat, staring out blindly at the snowy scene around the cottage. He was immersed in his thoughts and didn't know how much time had passed when Aubrianna stuck her head in and announced breakfast was ready.
"Aubrianna, I have a question," he said, thinking it might be better to ask someone else other than his parents about the current.
"What's with the sudden name change?
"What do you mean?" asked Harry, perplexed. That was her name, right?
"You usually call me Bri," she said. "You're acting very odd today, Harry."
"If you only knew then you'd understand."
"Understand what? What happened?"
"Nothing, I - "
"Harry," she said very seriously, sitting next to him on the window seat. "You know you can tell me anything. So tell me already!"
"You're not going to believe me!" he cried, thoroughly convinced that she wouldn't no matter how hard he might try to explain her what had happened to him.
"Well, you are going to have to take a chance then." Her green eyes met his matching ones directly.
"Alright, but promise me you won't think I'm crazy when I'm done."
"I can't promise that, but I'll try not to." She replied with a smirk.
Harry told her everything he knew about the prophecy, Neville's letter, and the other world he had been in before being switched to this one. Throughout his talking, she stayed silent and attentive, her face sometimes screwing up in confusion or shock. The resemblance in her and his mother was sharpened with her expressions.
"Okay, so what you're saying is that you have no idea who I am, you grew up living with an Aunt and Uncle I've never met before - "
"Wait, you don't know about Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon?"
"No, Mummy or Dad have never talked about them. Maybe they died or something. But anyway, you don't know who I am; you grew up as an orphan and had Voldemort trying to kill you since you were a baby? And the only reason he tried to kill you was because he thought you were a threat? But this boy, Neville Longbottom, heard about the prophecy and went back and time and made Voldemort try to kill him instead and he succeeded so you were switched to "this world"?"
"Sounds about right," said Harry. "Maybe this is all one big dream." She pinched him. "Ow! What was that for?"
"No, you're not dreaming," she informed him indifferently. "But this is strange."
"You're telling me."
"Aubrianna! Harry! Where are you? Your father and I have already eaten!" cried Lily. "You're food is getting cold. Come and eat, both of you!"
Harry and Aubrianna got up swiftly from the seat. They didn't say anything and went down to the kitchen quickly to answer Lily's summons. Lily and James were sitting at the small wooden table with plates of toast, eggs, bacon, kippers, and orange juice in the center of the table. True to Lily's remarks, he saw that his parents plates were nearly empty. Harry sat down next to James and began filling his plate. He was unusually hungry all of a sudden. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Aubrianna was shooting him worried glances from time to time.
"When you're finished eating, meet me outside with the Firebolt," said James as he stood up from the table and walked over to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the kitchen. Lily got up to do the dishes.
"I don't know if I believe you or not or if this is just one big joke," hissed Aubrianna from the other side of the table.
"You don't have to believe me if you don't want to, but just to let you know I'M NOT LYING!" Harry whispered angrily. Who was going to believe him if she wasn't going to? He needed someone to believe that he had come from a totally different world - one without parents or a sister.
"I don't know, Harry, it seems awfully strange . . ." she had dropped her angry and unbelieving manner and was now nervously contemplating if Harry was telling the truth or not. He decided to try to persuade her.
"Aubrianna, I - " she gave him an arch look. He corrected himself.
"Bri, do you see what I'm talking about?"
She faltered, "I still don't know and it's not safe to sit here whispering about now when Mum right here." He agreed and grew silent himself as they continued eating. When he was done, he deliberately avoided Aubrianna and Lily's eyes and went to his room to fetch the Firebolt and go outside. He walked up to the glass door and was about to slide it open when he saw in reflection that his scar was no longer on his forehead. He shook his head slowly and stared at it as if expecting it to reappear any second - but it didn't. Harry sighed softly and exited the cottage to meet his father.
"Ready to try it out?" asked James. The morning sunlight highlighted the grey in his black mop of hair, while his hazel eyes gleamed with a teasing light.. Harry nodded. They walked out onto the snow-covered backyard that surrounded by tall trees on three sides.
Harry mounted the Firebolt with his father watching. "Go ahead," he encouraged his son.
Harry pushed hard against the ground and soared upward with the familiar feeling of freedom with the wind blowing through his unruly hair and the cold air causing his cheeks and nose to redden. This was something he needed right now - something he knew and was familiar. Right then - flying higher and higher over the treetops and seeing an amazing view of mountains and rivers - he thought everything was going to be okay; that everything would work out fine. He had never expected things to turn out the way they did. Maybe it was meant to be this way…