|SIYE Time:22:25 on 18th June 2018|
Harry Potter and the Dreams
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Genres: Fluff, Romance
Story is Complete
Summary: A one-shot about how dreams can be a gifts, especially when they involve a certain red haired girl.
Hitcount: Story Total: 799
Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.
I wanted to write this as a tribute to the many stunningly beautiful stories that I have found regarding one of my favorite couples in literature. I hope that this little one shot will show that gratitude a little. I know it is more than a little fluffy, but hey, it's a guilty pleasure of mine.
Please enjoy, and let me know what you think.
I don't own any of rights to Harry Potter, but like many of you, I enjoy playing in that wonderfully amazing sandbox a little.
He was dreaming and he knew it, what he didn't know was that he was smiling in his sleep as he dreamed...
He hadn't been there, but the Gryffindors won the Quidditch match, and he was standing in a celebratory crowd of people, none of whom had a face, but that didn't bother him because he knew who each person was. He turned his head as the portrait hole opened and the beautiful ginger-haired girl climbed through. Hers was the only face he could see, the only face he wanted to see.
She was still dressed in her Gryffindor Quidditch robes, and the dark red and gold of the robes made her beautiful red hair appear darker than usual. She was the only one now in the room as she ran toward him, the others fading away as people in dreams often do. She was smiling a very mischievous smile as and her arms wrapped around his neck, her beautiful browns flashing at him. He had kissed her then. When it happened he experienced a euphoric feeling. He had never felt so happy in his entire life.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. Her lips tasted… well like her — a combination of peppermint, grass, wind, and joy. The kiss deepened and it made his heart burst with even more happiness, like everything just made sense. This is exactly what should happen right now, everything just seemed to fall into place, like a major piece of his life was now there and the thought made him smile into their kiss.
The red-headed beauty broke the kiss and leaned back staying in his arms. He looked into her eyes and saw warm brown eyes flecked with gold and those eyes saw only him. Those eyes reflected a fierce love that showed she had enjoyed the kiss as much as he had, and her brother, his best mate, who was watching them open-mouthed, could just sod off somewhere. Those eyes almost dared her brother or anyone else to try and stop what she was doing.
He noticed the freckles that traced a trail from one cheek over her nose to her other cheek, and it made him want to count and kiss each one of them. He knew she was his now, though he had been hers for months he had waited and was now being rewarded for his patience. And he struggled trying to think of a better reward that being able to hold his ginger-haired girl in his arms for the first time.
He looked down and saw her lips curved into a smile that made the euphoria return and she closed her eyes and leaned in to continue their kiss…
And as sometimes happens in dreams, this one faded to another scene.
He was sitting under a large beech tree near the Black Lake. He saw the giant squid slowly circumnavigating the lake as though it had no care in the world, which he thought made sense for a giant squid. The leaves in the trees around him were a vibrant green and swayed in the gentle breeze. Sun was filtered through the leaves and branches and warmed him. He heard bird song surround him, and thought briefly of joining in with them. He felt contentment — a peace that he hadn't felt in himself for a long while. It made him grin lopsidedly.
He looked down and saw the source of his joy: a delicate feminine left hand interlacing fingers with his right hand, her thumb softly rubbing his in an almost automatic motion. He loved the slight calluses he could feel on her palm from her riding a broom. He continued to look at the wrist and then the elbow and shoulder. He saw the tell-tale red hair softly laying on the shoulder move slowly as the beautiful girl sitting next to him moved it to the other side, and in doing so displaying the soft white skin of her neck. A neck that he loved to nuzzle and kiss as he realized with a jolt of happiness that there may be new freckles for him to count.
He continued his gaze-journey as he moved to her ear, an ear that as with her neck, he loved to nibble on, and then followed her delicate jawline. As he saw her chin he moved upwards to her mouth which was beginning to curve into a smile. A smile that he was beginning to realize was just his — she shared it with no one else. He knew she knew he was looking at her and she didn't care that he did. In fact the gentle squeeze of his hand seemed almost to encourage him to continue.
The smile stayed on her face as she turned her head to look into his eyes. The fierceness was there, but it was a minor emotion compared to the adoration and kindness he saw in those beautiful brown eyes. He glanced quickly at her cheeks and saw the freckles on her cheeks standing out a bit more as she had been in the sun recently. Her lips were red and seemed to be asking that he kiss them some more. He returned his eyes to meet hers and saw that the adoration was joined by curiosity, and so he returned her smile.
She grinned back and quietly said, "Knut for your thoughts."
He had never said what he wanted to say to anyone before, but he knew how he felt. And before his head could get in the way, he heard himself say it, "I love you."
The statement made him feel like the world stopped and nothing else mattered, just the stunning breath-taking auburn-haired girl sitting next to him.
Her eyes widen a little as she heard the words, her mouth forming a small smile and in one of the most adorable things he had ever seen she bit her bottom lip a little. And then her eyes sparkled like two chocolate diamonds. There may have been a hint of tears in those beautiful eyes but he couldn't really tell. The adoration returned and was joined with pure happiness. She smiled that special his-only smile and looking back into his eyes whispered, "I love you too."
As she leaned in to kiss him…
The dream faded into darkness… and fear.
It was dark, but not just because the sky was dark, he had his eyes closed. He was being held in massive arms, carried like a baby. He sensed danger and loss. He also sensed that something was almost through, like he was almost at his destination after a very difficult and long journey. But most of all he sensed dread because he knew what was about to happen — and he hated it.
He heard a high-pitched voice taunting others, and then he heard her voice as she screamed his name. He knew it was his ginger-haired girl's voice. He would recognize it anywhere. And as she screamed for him, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces each one stamped with her name as he heard the despair and horror and loss in her voice.
He begged his ears to stop working, but her sobs reached his ears. He couldn't stop those tears and heart-ache, it wasn't time. And he knew it. But his heart hurt for the beautiful girl with red hair who was being led to believe that he was dead.
He wanted to jump up and run to her. Take her into his arms and show her he wasn't what was being said of him, that he was alive and that he loved her. But he couldn't, it wasn't time… not yet.
He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with her. Whatever happened next to him, he promised to do whatever it took to never put the ginger-haired girl in a situation to feel this again. But it wasn't time… not yet.
He heard new noises and voices and commotion. The time had come to finish his journey, and his eyes began to open…
The dream faded once more.
He was standing in front of people, lots of people. His friends and family were there. There was someone standing slightly to his front and left of him. But he didn't notice — because the red-haired girl was standing in front of him. Her long hair was curled and cascaded down her right shoulder. It shone like someone had put fairy lights in it. The brilliant white silk dress she wore was simple but elegant. It fit not only her body but her personality. It was perfectly her.
While she wore makeup it was only to enhance her gorgeous brown eyes and red lips. The eyes that made him happy, the eyes that had made him fall so desperately in love with her.
She was smiling. But he had never before seen a smile so wonderfully beautiful. It was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look directly at it.
Her right hand was in his left. Not even conscious of what he was doing, he raised his right hand and kissed his fingertips before taking the simple gold ring and sliding it upon her ring finger. When the ring reached its zenith he took her hand in both of his and looked up into her face. Her brown eyes now seemed flecked with gold dust and the look of fierce love and devotion made his heart once again burst at the seams. There were tears pooling in them as well, as he knew his were at the same moment. He almost laughed with joy as the ginger-haired girl, no HIS ginger-haired girl, mouthed "I love you" to him.
Then it was her turn to place a ring on his finger, and prior to doing so she raised her delicate fingers to her mouth, kissed the tips and slid the ring where it belonged. As she did this she smiled at him the entire time, their eyes never losing contact with each other.
He then heard someone say something that ended with "…kiss the bride."
He gave his ginger-haired girl a lop-sided smile and pulled her into him while at the same time she walked forward to him: the action causing them to collide and giggle at one another. Then his hands were cupping her delicately gorgeous face as he leaned into kiss her…
The dream faded.
They are at St. Mungo's. He is leaning over his ginger-haired girl kissing the top of her head. Her hair smelled of sweet roses and well… her, a smell that he has never been able to truly described, but a scent that makes his whole world better. The smell makes his head spin with love despite it being damp with sweat.
He looked down at the tiny bundle she was cradling in her arms. His love which he thought could never grow for the woman in his arms exploded ten-fold. They were parents. And the thought made his knees buckle a little.
She noticed and looking up at him with those marvelously brown caring eyes. Those eyes that almost glowed with concern and love now not only for him, but the small child she had just delivered into the world and now held in her arms. And the questioning look in them made him smile at her.
"Sorry love. Just a bit overwhelmed at the moment," he heard his voice.
Her smile surpassed any brightness he had seen before, and as he witnessed this new smile, he heard her say those wonderful words, "I love you. Forever." He leaned in to kiss his gorgeous ginger-haired girl, his best friend, his lover, his wife, the mother of their new son. And as his lips softly moved to touch hers…
The dream faded.
The red-haired girl was standing in front of their kitchen sink. He could see the sunny day outside through the window above the sink. The breeze was blowing making it look almost exactly like that afternoon by the Black Lake they had shared together so long ago.
She must have heard his approach because she turned around to face him, putting the dish she was drying into the rack. He loved that sometimes the two of them would do something without magic, just as an excuse to be closer to one another. Her look made him stop in his tracks.
The glorious red hair he loved so much was now streaked with more grey than red, and it was pulled into a messy pony tail. She had filled out a little more since she was young, but it made him love her more; if that was even possible. She was still his beautiful ginger-haired girl and he loved that they were aging together.
There were subtle wrinkles lining her face, and the crow's feet near her eyes crinkled as she smiled at him. Her eyes though, those hadn't changed in the time he knew her. The brown warmth that was sometimes flecked with gold when she was happy — it made him want to dance for joy every time he looked into them and saw her love for him shining back at him.
He closed the distance between them. In a gesture that he knew they had been doing since their wedding, he raised his right hand and kissed his fingertips. The auburn-haired girl, because despite their age he would always see the fierce and determined young woman who he had kissed unabashedly in the Gryffindor common room those many, many years ago, raised her left hand to her lips and gently kissed her fingertips. Then the two of them reached out and curled their fingers together as she pulled him to her side.
They had done the gesture so often that it was habit, but each time they did it he loved it. He loved being able to feel her warm hand in his. Her slightly calloused palm resting in his as their fingers intertwined. There were few things more intimate he did with her than this small token of love between them.
Her head rested a little on his shoulder, and he heard her voice, now beginning to get a little gravelly with age, ask, "So… you're finally going to come and help me with the dishes huh? Seems rather convenient that you show up when I am almost finished. My brothers have taught you well." He felt her give him a gentle hip bump with a smile on her face.
He looked down at her. As she turned to look up into his eyes he felt a million years younger and wanted to run to their backyard, climb their beech tree there and shout at the top of his lungs how much he loved and cherished and adored his ginger-haired girl.
His thoughts had been written on his face as she broke the grip of their hands and reached up to gather his face in her hands. Whispering to her he once again said those truly magic words, "I love you."
Her beautiful soft eyes showed a love that was so palpable it took his breath away. And she pulled him down to kiss, she whispered, "I love you. Forever."
Her lips touched his, and for a brief moment he could taste her lips again. That taste that he had always associated with uniquely her…
The old man woke up suddenly, whispering her name, swearing he could almost hear her voice whisper in his ears and feel her lips on his. He licked his lips hoping that he might find her taste upon them. When he didn't he tried not to be too disappointed, but couldn't prevent the tears welling in his eyes a little.
Despite the flash of pain he felt, he smiled at the memories of the dreams though, even the dark one. He moved his blankets off of his legs as he sat up. Slowly standing up and stretching a little he made his way to the desk where a large dark red leather bound book sat unopened. It had been a gift from her, one of her last ones that she had given him before…
His wrinkled liver-spotted hand slowly caressed the book as his fingers found the book mark he had placed about three quarters of the way through the book. He felt the small silk bookmark, a bookmark that looked suspiciously like it had been a part of a wedding gown at one time, and slid his fingers into open to the blank page.
He sat down in the leather chair in front of the desk, put on his round glasses and gently moved the white silk bookmark aside. Taking a quill and ink, he quickly recorded the date and then wrote every detail of the dreams he had seen. He left nothing out. No sound, no sight, no smell, not even the touches that weren't real. Everything went into the book.
As he wrote and thought about his dreams his smile returned, but so did the tears. He knew it was pointless to try and stop them, so he didn't try — he just made sure to keep as many of them off the pages as he could. He had long ago realized that these tears weren't just sad ones, but ones of joy for even having the dreams, the gifts he received each night.
When he was done, he chuckled softly to himself, "I wonder what Professor Trelawny would think of this dream journal?"
The old man smiled to himself once he had completed his task. He slid the white silk bookmark down his grizzled cheek softly kissed it, and then placed it where he had written of the first dream of the night's and closed the book.
He stood and slowly shuffled around the bedroom getting dressed and ready for the day. Once that was done, he hefted the heavy book under his left arm and taking his wand made his way out of the bedroom through the kitchen and dining area to the backyard.
He stood under their massive beech tree that was behind a beautiful white marble gravestone. A single Sterling rose grew in front of it, the smallish grey-purple rose bud slightly opened as the day began to warm. He could smell its wonderful sweet scent from where he stood — it was the scent of her auburn hair. And when he had figured it out, he had placed the flower in every room in the house so that no matter where she was in their home, he would feel he wasn't far from her. And when she had passed, he had placed one here and enchanted it to bloom no matter what time of year it was.
Above the gravestone was an almost life-sized statue of a long-haired Quidditch player also made of white marble. The statue was hovering slightly above the gravestone, giving the look of being in a Quidditch game. The girl's white hair streamed behind her as she hovered above the headstone. She turned her head and the look of utter joy on her face made the old man smile wistfully. The statue smiled back at him and waved her arm and he waved back.
He conjured a hard back wooden chair just a few feet in front of the gravestone and slowly sat down. Placing the book on his lap he opened to the pages where he had added the dream details and looking down at the gravestone spoke in a gravelly but strong voice.
"Good morning my beautiful wife! Thank you Love for those dreams last night — even the one of the Battle. You know how much I love the one of our wedding. I will never forget how beautiful you looked that day, and how I felt like the luckiest bloke in the whole world. So even though you know what the dreams I have every night, I love to share them with you every day. It makes me feel like you're still here."
He took a breath and in a steady voice began reading from the book to the gravestone. Each dream he read about seemed to shimmer in the air in front of the headstone and statue, as though speaking of them out loud imbued them with a special magic of their own. And as he read each dream out loud he felt the emotions contained within each one. Sometimes his voice caught as a particularly strong emotion or thought was voiced, but he had been doing this long enough that he was able to keep from crying, if only barely. He finished with the dreams in the book so he gently placed the bookmark where a new page would be ready for tonight's dreams.
He smiled sadly at the statue of the girl as it continued to hover. The look of sadness on its face mirrored his own look.
"You probably already know that Neville passed away yesterday. He was surrounded by his entire family who had travelled up to Hogwarts to be with him when he passed. He was one of the best headmasters Hogwarts will ever have in my opinion. I think our Lily may now succeed him as Headmistress of the school, but that hasn't been formally announced yet. Wouldn't that be something? Our daughter the headmistress of Hogwarts! I hope that they do make her the Headmistress, she is as smart and talented and beautiful as you Love." He chuckled as he continued, "But you already know that don't you?" At this question, the statue smiled and did a loop-the-loop as if to answer in the affirmative.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Tears stood in his eyes as he remembered his courageous friend who had supported him always even though it often got him into trouble. Neville really was the greatest example of what it meant to be a true Gryffindor. A slight breeze brought him back to the present.
"Please, say hi to Neville for me, OK? I know he really helped you when I was away from Hogwarts that last year, and after you passed, well… with Ron and Hermione gone… he was always here to help and to listen. With Neville gone now that leaves only me and Seamus left from the original DA members now. And I think Seamus will outlast me just out of sheer stubbornness."
The old man grinned a little at his own joke.
He heard someone come in the house behind him and call, "Dad? Are you out of bed yet? Bill and I are here to work on those memoirs with you. Dad, where are you?"
The old man let out another breath as he stood up, vanished the chair and tucking the dream book under his left arm again. "I'm out here in the backyard Son talking to your mother, I will right there."
He looked up at the statue again. The young Quidditch rider had gotten off of her broom and was holding it in her right hand. Her left hand was now over her heart. He could see the HH on her Quidditch robes now. She was smiling gently at him. The breeze returned and with it the scent of roses… of her beautiful red hair.
The old man grinned up at her, kissed the fingertips of his right hand and watched as the statue kissed the fingertips of her left hand and held it out for him to grip. As their fingers curled around one another, the old man wished he could feel the warmth and small callouses he had adored and now missed, but he knew that even has he gripped the smooth marble hand that it was not to be.
"Albus is here with one of our grandsons, Love." His voice caught as he whispered while looking into the statue's eyes longing to see the brown ones he loved so dearly, "Merlin's beard, how I miss you. I love you. Forever." His voice broke a little again and tears blurred his vision as he continued, "But I don't think it will be too much longer before I will see you again my Love… my Ginny."
He let go of the statue's hand and slowly turned to make his way into the house, not noticing the statue hugging her broom to her chest in a silent show of excitement and anticipation, then mounting her broom blew him a kiss hovering once more watching as he slowly trudged back to the house.
Re sidents of Godric's Hollow lately have a new legend they have started to tell around the village.
They say that on clear nights between the end of July and the middle of August if you are quiet, and looking up at the stars, you may see two broom-riders made of white marble flying above the village hand in hand. One a young handsome wizard with round glasses, a lightning scar on his forehead, and a lopsided grin, holding the left hand of a young beautiful witch with flowing long hair, wearing Holyhead Harpies Quidditch robes and a care-free smile. They say that the love shown between the two riders is so great, so palpable, that you can almost see it spark as they fly together under the stars.
If the legend is true and if you are one of those lucky few people who do get to see the two riders, the townsfolk say you will soon meet the one you are destined to love forever.
Author's Post Note
There you have it. I hope you liked it.
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