Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and any of the characters mentioned hereafter. They belong to the incredible JK Rowling. I am not making a single cent out of this. I wish I did, and was.
[A/N: Okay, well, this plot bunny bit me really hard where the sun does not shine, and I've decided to write it (Like I could help it). I've also decided that in order for this fic to be unbelievably fluffy and sweet and romantic, the following things are to be emitted:
The threat of Voldemort and his followers
The prophecy
Any real plot that is not romantic
Angry!Harry
It's not exactly AU, as Harry, Hermione and co. will still act the same [or as close to as I can make them], but this, er, "plot" is mine, JKR will never write the books like this. So, maybe, yeah, AU.
I am aware that the books are not all romance, and I had planned on writing this as an original story, but I thought making it H/Hr would be fun, and so far, it has been. If you do not feel like reading anything remotely romantic/fluffy/sweet, I suggest you hit the back button right now, but please accept my gratitude for hitting the title :)
This is the first chapter. I sincerely hope you like it. And, I have a phobia of flames, I'll have you know. Have mercy >.< ]
In a life before this
Chapter 1: Strange dreams
Harry Potter woke with a start, his entire body covered in sweat. He had had that same dream again. The one with the familiar-looking woman, who kisses him with tears in her eyes, and tells him she will love him always before he dies in his dream. My love, we shall meet again, he had told the woman in his dream. Only it didn't seem like him. The woman had called him a different name, too. Look for me, David...
He wiped the sweat off his forehead. Why had he been having such a strange recurring dream? And why is it that he always forgets the woman's face the moment he wakes up, when her face is as clear as daylight in his subconscious mind?
Harry steadied his breathing. He was positive of one thing, though. In his dream or not, he had never felt such a powerful love for anyone before.
***
`Good morning, Harry,' Hermione said delightedly at breakfast the next day. `You'll never guess what!'
`Oh, no,' Ron groaned. `Better run away now, mate, before she actually tells you "what".'
Hermione glared at Ron. He pretended not to notice.
Harry rolled his eyes.
`What, Hermione?' he said.
She turned back to Harry.
`Dobby told me this morning that one of the House-Elves came to him to ask how they could get wages!' she informed Harry, eyes twinkling.
`Wow, Hermione. SPEW is finally paying off, then,' said Harry, giving his eggs and bacon some well deserved attention.
`Yes! Isn't it great?'
Harry nodded, not really looking at her, or paying attention now. He had remembered the dream again. It wasn't surprising, though, as it was all he could think of lately. In the wizarding world, it was not normal to have a recurring dream. Harry doubted it was normal, too, in the muggle world.
`What is it, Harry?' Hermione asked. Harry failed to detect the concern in her tone.
`What? Oh, sorry, were you saying something to me?' said Harry.
Hermione shook her head slowly.
`No… it's just… you were staring seriously into space…'
`Yeah, Harry, what's up?' said Ron, nice enough to leave his unfinished breakfast to look at Harry.
Harry didn't know whether or not he should tell them. It was, after all, just a dream. They had all been just a dream, the same dream… Yet, it all seemed so real, somehow.
`Well? Are you going to tell us or not?' said Ron.
`Yes, Harry. Tell us what's wrong,' said Hermione.
In the end, Harry gave up and told them, however ridiculous he thought he sounded.
After he finished telling Ron and Hermione the dream, they had different expressions. Ron looked as though he was having much difficulty refraining from laughing. Hermione, on the other hand, looked lost in thought.
`What?' he asked her, ignoring Ron, who was now snickering with his head under the table.
`How long did you say you have been having this dream?' she asked.
`About a week now.'
`Hmmm,' said Hermione thoughtfully.
`What?' he asked her again, over Ron's `David! Hahahahaha.'
`I'm still a bit confused,' she said. `You don't know how you died in your dream, but you knew you would? And you felt you loved her deeply?'
`Sounds about right,' said Harry.
`What was her name again?'
`I… I don't know,' realized Harry. `Do you think I'm crazy?'
`Not at all, Harry. I've read somewhere that recurring dreams is sometimes a cry for help from your subconscious.'
`But… how do you explain how much I… er, loved her? And how I can never remember her face when I'm awake?' said Harry.
Ron was now banging the table, almost tearful. Hermione rolled her eyes.
`Well, that is so say, if it's a cry for help, then we should find out what you want help with so badly,' she said.
`And if it's not?' Harry asked, staring at his half-eaten bacon.
`Then it's gotta be one of those other reasons in the book I read. Oh, if only I hadn't forgotten the title. I'll look for it in the library, if you like,' she offered.
`I think I know what it is,' said a vague voice behind Ron. The three of them turned to face Luna Lovegood.
`Do you now,' said Ron, turning back to wolf down his breakfast.
`Oh yes,' she said. `I think Harry's had a glimpse of his other life… you know, a glimpse of himself and his love... in a life before this.'
Hermione actually snorted, and Ron almost choked on his egg. Harry raised an eyebrow.
`What?' he said.
`Reincarnation,' Luna said simply.
`Er, exactly how long have you been listening to my private conversation with Ron and Hermione?' asked Harry, rudely.
`Long enough to reach that conclusion,' said Luna, taking the seat next to Ron. `I bought an Extendable Ear last year from your brothers,' she added to him.
`Oh, will you look at that,' said Hermione, looking at her watch dramatically. `Classes begin in 20 minutes. I think we should head to the Transfiguration classroom now. Don't you, Harry? Ron?'
Ron nodded and stood up. Harry did, too, after a second or two. He wondered what on earth made Luna think of a life he had before this. He had never really believed in reincarnation. And even though Luna does, she also believed Blibbering Humdingers existed.
***
`Don't worry, Harry. I'll check in the library for you, the first chance I get, OK?' said Hermione reassuringly. Harry didn't even know why he cared so much. But he did.
`Maybe,' said Ron, a few seconds later, as they made their way to Professor McGonagall's classroom. `someone is trying to send you silly dreams. I'll bet a thousand Galleons it's Malfoy.'
Hermione sighed exasperatedly.
`First of all, Ron, I do not think Malfoy even knows what Leglimency is. Second, why on earth would Malfoy even bother to go through all that trouble? Doesn't sound like Malfoy at all to me,' she said.
`You don't know that!' said Ron. `And hey, at least I'm not laughing anymore!'
And they argued the entire way to Transfiguration.
***
That night, Harry had successfully forgotten about his recurring dream, due to Quidditch practice. He was so tired, in fact, that he had no trouble falling asleep the moment his head had reached his pillow.
`Look for me, David...' said a woman, tears running down from her light brown eyes.
Harry looked into her them, tears trickling from his own. He kissed the woman passionately, and she kissed him back urgently, both not willing to let go, for they knew this kiss would be their last.
`My love, we shall meet again,' he told the woman, his lips only short distance from hers.
`Promise me, David... promise me, you'll find me.'
Harry held her tightly, feeling her straight, silky black hair against his cheeks.
`I promise, Atalanta. Wait for me…'he said. `They cannot keep us apart.'
The moment Harry had let go of Atalanta, she was pulled backwards by an unseen force into the darkness.
`I love you, David! Always!' Harry heard her scream.
`I love you!' Harry called out, seeing nothing but blackness.
Atalanta screamed bloody murder, and then there was nothing.
`Nooooooooo!' cried Harry.'Atalantaaaaaaaaa!
Harry woke with a start, his entire body covered in sweat. He had had that same dream again. The one with the familiar-looking woman, who kisses him with tears in her eyes, and tells him she will love him always before he dies.
But this one had been different. It had never been this long. And he now knew her name.
`Atalanta,' he whispered.
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