Harry Potter and the Dream Book

Chapter 1: the Quidditch World Cup Take Two

Set immediately after “Goblet of Fire”.  After the dreadful fourth year, Harry looks for a way to turn back time and change the events leading up to Voldemort’s return.  He finds a spell that allows him to relive his fourth year and have the life he always dreamed of.  Now he’s back at the Quidditch World Cup, his parents are alive, and the lightning scar is gone!  Someone else now is called ‘the Boy Who Lived’.  Will Harry’s name come out of the Goblet of Fire this year?

Enjoy.

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CHAPTER ONE: THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP TAKE TWO

He didn’t think his stomach could take it anymore.  His eyes were closed tightly and the swirling lights and stormy winds around him made him dizzy.  It felt like falling into an abyss, or being pulled into it by an invisible thread.  “What have I done?” he thought bitterly, remembering the spell he had just pronounced.  “I should have listened to Hermione.  Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time.  What have I done?”

Suddenly, he heard a voice.  It was not a dream.  It was close, so close.

“Sweetheart, you’re ready.  Let go.  Let go!”

He hit the ground flat on his back and opened his eyes.  There she was, his mother, as real and alive as could possibly be.  She was leaning over him with a smile on her face.  The morning daylight was shinning on her hair.  She was not a ghost.  Then someone offered him a hand, a strong hand.  It was his father.  Harry took his father’s hand.  His father pulled him up from the ground and onto his feet.  He couldn’t move.  He could hardly stand up straight.  He couldn’t breathe.  He had forgotten how to breathe.  Breathing was not important.  He was standing in front of his parents, and they were smiling at him.  They were alive.

“Harry, sweetheart, you look positively shaken.  Are you alright, honey?” said the soft, motherly voice of Lily Potter.  “Take a deep breath.  It’s over now.”  

He said nothing.  His mother came closer to brush dirt off his shoulder.  He could do nothing but stare at her.  Her eyes, his eyes, they were the same.

“Look at you, Harry.  You look petrified.  I never thought…  It’s just a Portkey.  It’s quite harmless.”  His father let out a small laugh and carelessly dropped the Portkey, an old watch, onto the grass.  

“He’s never used a Portkey before, James” said Lily Potter.  Then she turned her attention back to Harry, touching his cheek with her gentle hand.  “When we get to the tent, you can lie down, sweetheart.  You look pale.  There’s a little time before the match.”

Then they started to walk together, all three of them.  Voices could be heard ahead of them.  Harry instantly realised where they were going: the Quidditch World Cup.  He was back in time exactly one year ago.  “It worked.  I can’t believe it worked”, he kept saying over and over in his head.  “It was just a stupid book and a stupid incantation, but it worked.  I came back in time, exactly one year back.  I’ve brought back my parents.”  Dumbledore had been wrong.  There was a spell that could bring back the dead.

His father placed an arm over his shoulder.  His mother laid a hand on his head, placing a strand of loose hair behind his ear.   The thought hit him like a wave of happiness such as he had never felt before.  “This is my happiest memory now.”  At that precise moment, he couldn’t imagine how changing a few events in time could be such an awful thing.

Harry Potter was entirely indifferent to the extraordinary setting of the Quidditch World Cup.  He had seen it before.  The thousands of tents, the families of wizards, the familiar faces of Hogwarts students, the euphoria of the upcoming match Ireland versus Bulgaria, none of that impressed him much.  He finally felt that things were exactly as they ought to be.  But then, that had been exactly the point of the spell he had used.