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SIYE Time:14:04 on 12th July 2024
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Dare To Dream Of Christmas In July
By Dianne

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Category: Dream Adventure Challenge (2005-3)
Characters:None
Genres: Angst, Fluff, Humor, Drama
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 24
Summary: Harry listens in silence as others relate what their dream holiday would be. He finds it difficult to allow himself to even dream of such things while the prophecy hangs over his head. Ginny will not let Voldemort steal even his dreams away. We must all have our dreams, for in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own...let them swim in the deepest oceans or glide over the highest clouds... Thanks to one of my first reviewers, this story is now corrected.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4248







ChapterPrinter


Dare To Dream of Christmas In July



Through the steam covered windows of a very crowded compartment on the Hogwarts Express, eight pairs of eyes stared out into the night at what remained of their beloved school. There were eight people to a compartment all throughout the train for the evacuation. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Seamus and Lavender all sat rather cramped together for the ride home.

Hermione and Ron, being Prefects, carried out enforcement of Professor McGonagall’s seating arrangement lists, something that had never been done before. Hermione took note that McGonagall had been careful to seat Harry with his friends, but she had gone out of her way to seat him deliberately with Seamus Finnigan so the two of them might get a chance to talk. Harry and Seamus had never been close since their differences in their fifth year regarding the danger Seamus’s mother had said that Harry posed to the school. Hermione also knew the only reason possible that Lavender Brown would be seated with them, was because Parvati and Padma Patil had been killed in the attack on the school.

The Hogwarts Express had never been so full before as teachers and Aurors filled every vacant seat or stood stoically in the aisles. The old steam train had never needed security in the past, but now, constant vigilance was not just something Mad Eye Moody said, it was something everyone was practicing. With the hastily arranged evacuation of the school, there hadn’t been time to add train cars to accommodate the extra security that Dumbledore had ordered to see the students home.

Though it was only the fifteenth of May, Headmaster Dumbledore had told the students to think of this as an extra long summer break and to live every day as though it were Christmas. In fact, the Headmaster had suggested that to pass the time, students should plan a Christmas in July celebration with their families, and most had, if just to pass the time until the evacuation could take place. Owls had been bringing encouraging news and the celebration gave people something to look forward to in the coming dark times. A Christmas in July would also let Voldemort know that people refused to cower despite the fact that the war had landed on their doorsteps now.

Dumbledore had seen the students right to the carriages, promising them that the school would be as good as new by the first of September. Harry, as usual, blamed himself for the carnage.


Once in awhile Harry would glance up at Seamus, expecting to see malice and an ‘I-told-you-so’ glare, but he didn’t find it. Sadness, yes, but not reproach. Seamus had his arm protectively around Lavender’s shoulders. They had dated briefly on and off through the years following their fourth year Yule Ball, and Lavender seemed to take some comfort in Seamus now.


With all the security checks being performed up and down the train, there was very little chance for conversation, and that was alright for now as no one knew quite what to say anyhow. Each person, lost in their own mind’s wanderings, thought back to the day of the attack by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Very few students could even believe that Hogwarts had been breached.

The stragglers from Lunch Hour had been the first hit as a fiery ball of smoke and hot ash erupted suddenly and without warning in the Great Hall. It was three minutes until the first class of the afternoon was supposed to have begun and the worst thing on the minds of the fifteen students remaining, was that they would risk detention for being late for class, but the smoke from the blast was poisonous and these students would never have such trivial thoughts again. Thirteen of them died instantly, including Parvati and Padma Patil. They were sisters from different houses and they had been catching up on news from home and giggling wildly about plans for a trip they were going to take with Lavender Brown. They would never go home again.

Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown had been near the doors leading out of the Great Hall when it had happened and both had been knocked to the floor by the force of the blast. Seamus had been knocked out cold and Lavender had grabbed his ankles and dragged him out into the corridor before passing out from the smoke by the foot of the stairs. Mercifully, the smoke had been too thick for her to have witnessed the deaths in the Great Hall, but she knew who had been left in there. She had just warned them that they would be late and they had playfully told her to sod off. They were the last words she would hear from her best friends.

Dean Thomas was another casualty. He had been hitting on Parvati just before Seamus had stood up to leave. Dean had playfully grabbed her school bag and was just about to throw it to Seamus by the doors, who was supposed to run away with it. The bag had been coming right for his outstretched hands as Parvati protested playfully. It hit the ground at the same time Seamus did. The last reflection in Padma’s wide eyes, was of Seamus being thrown into the heavy oak doors.

The rest of the casualties had been first years, who were still unsure where exactly their next class was to have taken place. They had been pouring over their timetables, frantic about being late for Potions with the ever nasty Professor Snape in the Dungeons. With the current configuration of the ever changing staircases, they had set out twice, only to return to the Great Hall, desperate to find the mercy of an older student who may take pity on them and point them in the right direction.

Feeling that it was a right of passage for first years to be picked on by Snape and be lost all the time, the older students had refused to help them. Padma was just about to take pity on them when one of the first years who reminded her somewhat of a first year Hermione Granger, started to cry. Padma was just pointing to the doors of the Great Hall, when a huge explosion reverberated through the whole school. The ever changing staircases finally changed at that moment to a configuration which would have led these first years to their class in Potions...but they would never have to worry about being late for anything again.

******************************

As the train chugged along, billowing plumes of steam into the air that joined the dark clouds of the rainy spring, no one could think of anything but the images of the carnage. Hogwarts was their home away from home, all except for one person on the train for which Hogwarts had been his only home. Even as it crumbled in places all around him, it still felt safer than the life he had to live in Privet Drive, and now, the prospect of an extended summer holiday with the Dursleys loomed in his near future. Harry was in his sixth year at Hogwarts and had always been able to escape spending Christmas or a full summer holiday with the Dursleys. He was glad there would be no Christmas in July celebrations at his relative’s home when he stayed there. Eleven real Christmas’ with them had told him any holiday celebration that took place in Privet Drive would be miserable anyway.

The Weasleys had of course, planned a Christmas in July celebration and Harry longed to go to the Burrow to celebrate with them. He had learned that Hermione’s parents would be attending the celebration as well. As much as he longed to be with them, he had to accept that he would present a danger to them all just by being there. Better his Aunt and Uncle share the wealth of danger with him, than someone who actually cared for him, he decided.

Harry felt that Dumbledore probably had the best of intentions for suggesting such a celebration, but his dark mood wouldn’t let him forget that most likely, this Christmas in July would be the last for a lot of people and many would fall victim to the Dark Lord before the real Christmas would roll around again.

******************************** ************
No one in the compartment could take their minds off of what was to a couple of them, the very beginning of the war. Nothing could have spelled this fact out more clearly than the devastation that the attack had left in it’s wake.

The castle had been secured without further casualties, but the damage had been extensive. Gryffindor Tower was all but gone and the Fat Lady hadn’t been seen since the attack, but as she was a portrait, she hadn’t been counted as a casualty. Harry could only be relieved that Gryffindor Tower had been empty on the day of the attack. Voldemort had set his sights and he’d proven that he cared not how many innocent lives he had to take in order to get him.

Gryffindors had slept in Firenze’s Divination Classroom, which would have been like a pleasant camping trip had it not been for the reason of their misplacement. Firenze had a forest setting classroom and he had tried in the week since the attack to bolster morale among the students. The Centaur had lit incense for strengthening and cheering at night while the students slept.

Harry had been in Transfiguration when the attack occurred. He remembered someone saying hopefully, in a frightened voice, that it was probably just a first year in Potion’s class peeving off Professor Snape by blowing up his cauldron or something. He had laughed nervously along with everyone else until Dumbledore’s voice could be heard calmly, but forcefully, telling all students to return to their dormitories, except Gryffindors, who were to report to the first floor Divination classroom. Harry stared straight out the window as the train picked up speed, though he saw nothing. He wasn’t looking out the window, he was looking into his soul.

He had begged Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts during repairs, but the old man had refused..........just like Harry had seen him refuse Tom Riddle the same request in the Pensieve all those years ago. Was it because he was mad at him? Harry wondered this every day as he watched the Headmaster walk with a walking stick, the result of having had to rescue Harry from Voldemort after expressly forbidding him to leave the school.

The other students in his compartment began talking about what they would do if they could find the courage to heed the Headmaster’s advice and live every day as if it were Christmas. It was Ginny’s idea to take their minds off what had happened, to talk about their ultimate holiday...no holds barred, no Underage Use of Magic warnings to risk breaking. The sky’s the limit on dreams, she told them and right now, it was all most of them had. Harry didn’t even have that right now. He tried to block out Seamus as his dorm mate carefully chose his words as to what his ideal holiday would be.

Harry heard vague, mostly unenthusiastic laughter from the others in the compartment as they politely acknowledged that they were listening to Seamus. Ginny reached over and took Harry’s hand and kissed it lightly. He gave her a grateful small smile that did not reach his eyes and her heart broke for him. She had begged for Harry to be able to spend Christmas in July at the Burrow, but the choice had been taken away from the Weasley’s by Dumbledore, leading Harry once again, to wonder if he would hold his disobedience against him forever. Didn’t Dumbledore know that he couldn’t live without Ginny?

Harry had disobeyed the Headmaster and had gone out into the grounds as Aurors and Death Eaters had been locked in battle. Voldemort had been waiting there for him. The pain in his scar had told him so. Harry figured he could prevent the Dark Lord from entering the castle by going out to meet him, away from the other students. Too much blood had been shed already.

Voldemort had not wanted to kill Harry on these grounds, he had wanted to take him away, and though the old version of Hogwarts A History, said that one cannot Apparate into or out of Hogwarts, Voldemort had finally managed to overcome that obstacle, a fact that troubled the Headmaster most deeply.

The Dark Lord had appeared before Harry from out of nowhere and seized him almost instantly that night. He was about to Apparate away with him, when Harry became the object of a fierce battle of tug-of-war between Voldemort and Dumbledore. Harry felt the same nauseating sensation of being Portkeyed, along with feeling every muscle and tendon in his body lengthen until he felt that this must be what being drawn and quartered felt like. The two powerful wizards struggled with one another, exchanging words that Harry could not understand in his supreme agony. His scar, which was what had drawn him like a moth to headlights in the first place, was on fire and now, he was sure to die. His body hovered, stretched taut in mid air with Voldemort and Dumbledore’s wands trained on him, both of them trying to break each other’s magical grip on the Dark Lord’s prize.

Severus Snape now also had more reason to hate Harry than ever before. He had been invited to join in the tug-of-war by Voldemort himself. Snape could see that Harry was dying and Voldemort had told the Potions Master to join him and stand as his right hand man. A mad glint appeared in Snape’ eyes that pleased his master.......just as he let out a battle cry and aimed a spell at the Dark Lord that Harry had never seen before. The Dark Lord turned his malice toward Snape, momentarily stunned at the actions of his most faithful servant. The man went down in a powerful Cruciatus Curse as Voldemort lost his powerful magical grip on Harry. Dumbledore had taken advantage of this distraction to free Harry.

As Harry fell from the clutches of Voldemort, the Dark Lord had turned away to cast the Killing Curse at Snape, but he had been stopped by a strike from Dumbledore that burst from his wand tip like molten lava. Aurors, seeing and hearing what was going on, had turned on the Dark Lord at once, forgetting all other battles. Some of them had paid the ultimate price for doing so. Dumbledore had brought Snape and Harry to Madame Pomfrey at once.

********************************* *******

The rocking of the train was making Harry feel sick. He had just been released from the Hospital Wing yesterday. Madame Pomfrey had sent him home with a potion that was the opposite of Skele Gro, to shrink his stretched tendons and muscles and allow his knee cartilage to come back together again. His stomach squirmed, recalling the Matron confirming that he had been feeling pulled apart, because he indeed was being pulled apart. He wondered with a shudder if Dumbledore would have let go if suddenly one of his arms or legs would have popped off, and soon, he didn’t feel well at all.

He knew Dumbledore must be really angry with him now, as he had begged Madame Pomfrey to let him stay in the Hospital Wing because he felt and would continue to feel ill for the whole break. Dumbledore had insisted that the Matron would be busy with fixing up the Hospital Wing which had sustained extensive damage and that the castle would not be a pleasant place during the renovations. Harry recalled yelling at Dumbledore when he had been given the news that he would be sent to stay with the Dursleys over the unexpected extended summer holiday. He felt like he was being punished for disobeying the old man and going out to meet Voldemort on his own.

Harry had even tried charming his way into staying, even if it was the Hospital Wing. “I’ll help fix up the Hospital Wing. Who knows better than I do about what it needs. I have great respect for Madame Pomfrey. She’s patched me up loads of times and I’ve never done anything for her in return,” he recalled himself saying. The charming words of Tom Riddle to Dumbledore once again filled his head. ‘Please sir, I have no where else to go...it the culprit was caught...’

“Am I as desperate as Tom Riddle had been now?” Harry thought to himself as he felt Ginny push a small vial of potion into his hand.

“Go on love, it’s time for your potion,” she smiled at him, desperate to ease his strife. She didn’t know that feeling her body sitting next to him and the fact that he’d gotten the window seat, were the only things keeping him from passing out at the moment. Ginny really was remarkable, trying to get people to focus on the future, even it was only a fantasy. Her suggestion for everyone to share their idea of the perfect holiday, was no different than betting on a Quidditch Match. Odds were, you’d lose, but there was always that chance that you’d strike it rich. The war was on, and the odds were not in their favour, but there was always the chance that at least some of them would go on to live out their fantasy holiday one day.

Just because he loved the sound of Ginny’s voice, Harry asked her quietly what her fantasy vacation would be. She blushed, preferring to let someone else go first.

Ron took the opportunity before he would have to hear his little sister talk about snogging all night on a beach with Harry or something. He got the same gleam in his eye as the one he’d worn for an entire week after the imposter Mad Eye Moody had turned Malfoy into a ferret in his fourth year. He was chewing the last of his meal from the trolley and everyone marveled at how he could have such an appetite at a time like this. Before he started his story however, he got a mad look about him and decided to cheer Harry up with something that had never failed before. He was nearly full when he yelled, “Food fight!”

Ron had significantly less ammunition for the food fight, being the only one who had actually eaten much and he was outnumbered seven to one as no one joined his side. Even Harry laughed a little as he threw a cauldron cake that hit Ron in the forehead and came to rest atop his red hair. Hermione charmed the cake and it became red, Weasley hair red, looking like Ron had a bumpy troll head with a few sprigs of hair sticking out. Their laugher was genuine but it rang rather hollow in the tiny compartment. It was heard up and down the corridors, bringing unwanted guests.

“Weasleby, I ah, thought your family was poor. Should you be throwing food around like this? Shouldn’t you and your sister be crawling around picking up all the crumbs to take back to the rest of the starving Weasles?” drawled Draco Malfoy. Why on Earth had McGonagall allowed him to sit with his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, who flanked him as usual?

“Oh, wait a minute...I forgot, Potter’s going home so maybe you should make him a doggy bag as I hear they starve him.......or wait........little Potter hasn’t got his doggy anymore, do you Potter?”

Malfoy knew about Sirius...... His taunts sent chills through Harry’s body and he felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on him. The image of Sirius in his Animagus form running alongside the Hogwarts Express flooded Harry’s memories as the train sped toward London. What he wouldn’t do to see that mangy old mutt waiting for him on the platform to take him to his real home...but he knew that a real home was a dream he had to keep to himself. He knew it would never come true.

Everyone turned toward Harry now as Draco stood smugly waiting for a reaction. Even Crabbe and Goyle seemed scared that Malfoy had finally gone too far. The two goons took a step backward as they felt their stubbly hair stand up on the back of their necks. The angry static had come from Harry as he debated a fitting curse, but before he could react in full, Luna Lovegood said, “Get out Malfoy.”

There was a banging sound and muffled shouting and everyone looked around to see what had happened. Luna had turned her attention back to Ron serenely, waiting for him to continue his story as though nothing had happened. Malfoy was hanging desperately, outside the window of their compartment, pale as a ghost, begging to be let back in.

Luna performed another spell effortlessly, getting Malfoy back onboard and said simply, “Oh, don’t act like you didn’t have it coming, Malfoy, insulting the Quibbler and taking such a cheap shot at Harry....please continue, Ronald,” she finished primly as Malfoy ran off down the corridor. Everyone stared at her incredulously.

Harry was glad everyone was staring at Luna momentarily.......everyone except Ginny. She was the only one who had heard him utter, “I’m sorry Sirius........I’m so sorry,” after Malfoy had stirred his guilt over Sirius dying trying to save him at the Ministry of Magic last summer. She noticed that his dark hair was still standing up more than usual and his bright green eyes looked like they were trying to hold off tears that he deserved to be able to let go.

Ron wasn’t going to finish his story of the perfect vacation in light of the intrusion. Harry gulped down the vial of potion that Ginny had handed to him before Malfoy had interrupted them like it was a shot of Firewhisky. In truth, the effects of the potion were very much like alcohol when administered in large doses. Harry was supposed to take only half of the vial but he had downed the whole thing. He moaned and slumped forward almost instantly.

Hermione looked very apprehensive as she quickly paged through her Potion’s textbook to find out what an overdose of this potion would do.

“It’s very fast acting. It says to induce vomiting immediately,” she said frantically as Ron grabbed Harry’s shoulders and Luna quickly removed Neville’s toad, Trevor, from his bowl for Harry to throw up in.

Hermione raised her wand uncertainly, turned her head and shouted, “Regurgitalia!”

Everyone winced in silent discomfort as Harry heaved his entire stomach contents, which as it turned out, was very little. They knew that he hadn’t been eating. He moaned again as Ron guided his upper body back onto the seat. His head lolled onto Ginny’s shoulder.

“Harry......why.......” she whispered as Luna handed Neville Trevor’s bowl back.

“I........didn’t.......do it.......on purpose,” Harry wheezed as they all stared at him as though he should be locked up. “Honest.........I wasn’t thinking........Malfoy just......”

Ginny looked at him and she saw no lie in his eyes like she had seen the night when he had assured her that he would not leave the school to find Voldemort.

“He’s telling the truth,” Ginny sighed with relief, though she still feared for Harry going to the Dursleys in this complete state of unwariness. Ron had told her once that Harry had alluded to the fact that his uncle hit him by saying that it was good to know when to duck at the Dursleys. He wouldn’t know when to duck now if he was overdosing on his potions accidentally.

Hermione conjured several smaller vials and put Harry’s potions in individual doses with timed release charms on them that would beep when it was time for him to take them. They could all agree now that Harry still belonged in the Hospital Wing or at least at the Burrow where Mrs Weasley could care for him, and only Ginny had been able to provide him with any mental relief these days. His life would be a void of hell with the Dursleys and the closer they came to King’s Cross, the slower they wished the train would go.

The potion which was a combination muscle relaxant and sedative was very fast acting and too much of it had already reached Harry’s system before Hermione had effectively made him pump his own stomach out. He would not have died from the overdose, but he wouldn’t have been walking on his own out to the Dursley’s car either and they would probably have just left him at the station.

The more Ron thought about the ill treatment Harry was sure to receive from his relatives, the more steamed he became, so he finished his story of the ultimate vacation, Ron Weasley style, as Harry rested his head on Ginny’s shoulder.

“First off,” Ron said with much malice, “I’d get Dobby to lend me his old pillowcase and get Kreature and Malfoy together at Sirius’s......Grimmauld Place and I’d make the little git wear Dobby’s old pillow case, bogies and all, and serve us Butterbeer all day and I’d make him rub Hermione’s feet, because of what he called her in second year...he’d hate that. I’d make Malfoy work right alongside that foul old house-elf of Sirius’s.”

“I’d hate that Ronald,” Hermione informed him. “You can rub my feet, however.” She smiled at him.

Ron turned beet red. “Yeah, I could really see myself doing that.”

“I’d make Malfoy work like a slave and then I’d put him under a Petrificus Totalis Curse and make a hole in the wall for his head to show through right next to old Kreacher’s family of dead relatives there. I can picture myself taking pictures of him up there on the wall and then I’d sell them to the Quibbler. I’d write something like, Draco Malfoy becomes poster child for S.P.E.W. or something like that. It would be perfect because Kreature would be jealous of Malfoy having taken his place.”

“Well, yes, daddy is always looking for good stories,” Luna said dreamily. “He’d pay you a handsome amount of gold for one like that.” Even Harry was staring at Luna now as she smiled quite seriously back at them.

“Yeah, well speaking of getting paid loads of money...” Ginny began. “My favourite holiday would be one where for once, we wouldn’t have to worry about money. I’d love to go and get Mum and Dad some new furniture, take Mum out to a day at the spa, and send Dad to work in a decent set of robes that would fit in at the Ministry of Magic for once. You know, they spend so much to send us to Hogwarts that they’ve never done anything nice for themselves.”

“So, your holiday, in essence, Ginny, would be to make someone else’s holiday better?” Hermione asked, in awe and admiration.

“Well, I guess, it’s not entirely selfless. Mum would be a lot less strict after a relaxing day at the spa and if they weren’t so pressed for money, dad wouldn’t have to worry so much about work. Plus I can picture myself with a whole new set of robes for once,” she smiled.

Harry always felt a little awkward at this point because, even though he and Ginny were in love, she would not let him spend extravagant amounts of money on her. He decided right then and there that he was going to catalogue order the Weasleys a whole new set of furniture for the whole house. He was wealthy now, with Sirius’s will having left most of his money to he and Remus Lupin. He may miss the Christmas in July, but his gifts would be there.

“As you can see, I’m going to need new robes for sure this year. I’ve grown at least a foot since I got these,” Ginny said proudly, as if growing or not growing was something you could control on your own.

Her wishes were so simple, that they broke Harry’s heart, but she had shared much deeper wishes that money could not buy with him when she had sat with him night after night in the Hospital Wing when she’d been escorted down from Gryffindor Tower to keep him company. She sat back down next to him after doing a little twirl to demonstrate how much she had grown. It was as if her insecurity about having been left out all these years until now had still not been completely forgotten. The only one who regretted her being left out until this year more than she did, was Harry. She was the best thing that ever happened to him.

A lump rose in his throat at the simplicity of all of his friend’s wishes for a happy holiday. His dreams were so much more specific and bloody and just because they were a fantasy dream vacation, didn’t mean it was necessarily a good fantasy.

The silence was not comfortable between them like it had always been when it had been just Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna. With Seamus and Lavender there now, it just felt different. Neither of them had spoken much when Harry had accidentally overdosed on his medication, though Seamus had sprung to his feet to keep Harry from falling too far forward as Ron had found it difficult to keep him upright. Seamus had also put a soft school book bag under Harry’s still braced up knee. It was as if he was trying to make up for all the previous trouble between them.

Lavender decided to break the silence with a story of the ultimate vacation which would have come true this year had the war not begun in earnest. The silence was no more comfortable for her and Seamus than it had been for the friends.

“Well, actually,” she began, with a small smile playing across her pale face, “Padma and Parvati and I were really going to try to have some fun next Christmas...you know, the real Christmas...” she said wistfully. “Not the one Dumbledore told us to try to live. We were really going to have a fabulous time. They have an Uncle who lives in Florida see? We were all going to take our tiniest bikinis and wear them to the beach. Padma and Parvati were going to wear the same style but different colours. One of them was going to hide in a dressing booth while the other would get an unsuspecting boy’s reaction. He would take note of her bikini and its colour...while checking out other things. I was going to be the distraction. I’d talk to the unsuspecting guy and ask Padma to please fetch me something I’d ‘forgotten’ in the booth, and less then a second later, Parvati would appear, in a totally different colour swim suit.”

“I was going to have such a blast counting the amount of times it would take the guy to notice that the girl(s) had changed swimsuits. By looking around here... and at you three clueless chumps, I’m guessing he won’t have noticed at all. That would have been a good statistical study on the workings of the male brain when confronted with the opposite sex,” she said, shaking her head.

“We were going to end the holiday one of two ways. If the guy was completely clueless or rude, we were going to chance some underage magic and sprout him a white jacket and sunglasses that wouldn’t come off like that old Muggle program I used to watch with a Muggle aunt of mine with the detectives in it...guy used to wear the same thing in every single episode,” she continued in wonder. Lavender had always been a bit too into fashion.

“On the other hand...if the guy was a good sport and sweet, with a good body...then we’d have gotten him to call two friends and we’d have had the greatest beach party ever. We had already gotten our new outfits and everything.......” Lavender couldn’t continue, but to say, “Yeah, that would be the perfect vacation, and Padma and Parvati would have loved it. I wonder why Professor Trewlawny hadn’t told us to seize the day sooner....” Lavender finished.

Lavender’s devotion to the Divination teacher to this point had bordered on fanatical. She had followed her every word and here was where it had led her.

“Well, Lavender....someday, in memory of the Patil twins, we could take a Polyjuice Potion and get another partner or get the Weasley twins to pretend to be girls and live that dream you had with them.......in their memory.......really do it, not just talk about it,” Luna told Lavender kindly, and for once, Lavender didn’t sneer at the strange girl, but she thanked her and said she would think about it. She decided that Luna really did have a generous spirit.

Ron scowled, thinking about his brothers dressed up as girls...they’d probably do it, knowing them!

Hermione’ s perfect holiday was predictable, but to the rest of the students in the tiny compartment, it sounded like anything but a holiday. It didn’t even involve leaving Hogwarts at all.

“Hermione!” Ron groaned, “You can’t have a holiday in a school! Think big for once in your life.”

“Well,” Hermione continued as if Ron’s statement had given her an idea beyond her wildest dreams. As if checking to make sure she wasn’t being judged, she clarified with Ginny, “You did say that there would be no consequences or limits, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely none,” Ginny responded, clearly enjoying the evil look Hermione had in her eyes.

“Well, then, I would like to be able to stay at Hogwarts for an entire summer break, with complete unimpeded access to the Restricted Section and all of the Dark Arts Books. I’ve been told that there are some so powerful they could teach you how to bring back the dead......” Hermione said at once biting her lip, having forgotten herself. She looked at Harry, horrified at her words.

“It’s okay Hermione.......no limits remember? Not even from me,” Harry told her kindly. She meant well and he knew it.

“Well.......” she stuttered, “Grindewald, the defeated Dark Wizard never did learn those spells and they wouldn’t have any applications that a decent person would use because the dead don’t come back in spirit...but since we’ve learned that Voldemort has been working on those same spells to bring back the dead, I would like to learn the Counter Curse and how to recognize a walking dead person. I don’t imagine it’s like the movies. I heard they don’t look dead and they can be charmed to act like the real thing to manipulate people into doing just about anything out of desperation to keep them.”

Harry shuddered, remembering Voldemort’s offer to bring back his parents, and how he had yearned in temptation to take him up on his offer for a split second.

Hermione was too deep to have just one agenda however, and the next part of her dream vacation lightened her original plans considerably. “I feel so sorry for Madam Pince,” Hermione sad seriously as she continued. “She has to put up with people disrespecting the books, being loud in the library and hunting down books that should have been returned on time. I would set our devoted librarian up on a date of her dreams and she would be so in love that she’d leave the library in my care all summer, to get it ready for the next Fall session of school. Of course, I’d have permission to peruse the Restricted Section all I wanted. I’d charm my quill to take speedy notes on anything that would help the DA and Harry. I’d work in my flannel pajamas and have snacks in the library while I read.”

“Hermione, you rebel!” Ron teased.

“Well, of course I’d charm the snacks not to spill on the books,” she said, looking scandalized. “I’m just positive there’s a lot to be learned that could help us.”

Harry shuddered, knowing that Voldemort didn’t have the knowledge that these books contained yet, but he had offered to bring back his parents if he would join them. Did he have a copy of any of these books now? Harry wondered. He knew that the evil spell would not bring back the soul, but create just an image of an essence of the body, enough to taunt the living with.

When Harry was feeling weak, he still had a pang of longing to find the mirror of Erised to look at an image of his parents. Would he ever be weak enough with his need to see them that Voldemort could play with him with those texts? Harry really wanted Hermione to stop now, but she had been promised no limits and she deserved her turn.

“I would steal the ancient Dark Texts and destroy them utterly, even though they did have some virtues that we could really use on our side now...” She said this as though it cost her everything she stood for to burn any book. Hermione’s reverence for the written word, almost any written word, was legendary and to hear that her ultimate holiday would include a plan to destroy literature, was astounding. Harry felt proud knowing that she would probably have been doing that primarily for him, to help in his fight against Voldemort, for it had been learned that a few of Grindewald’s, the last reigning Dark Lord’s items from his family library had made it into a young Tom Riddle’s hands many years ago.

“I’d probably get the Order Of Merlin, First Class for that,” Hermione said as a dreamy smile crossed her face. “Okay, I’d probably end up expelled for destroying school property...so I’d have to remember to Obliviate Madame Pince’s memory so she wouldn’t even remember the inventory of the Restricted Section,” she finished.

“Hermione Granger, wanting an Order of Merlin?” Ron said, flabbergasted, “and not worrying about being expelled? You really have got your priorities straight!”

“Well.....you know, learning how to bend the rules from you two, has actually come in handy a few times. I know it’ll come in handy when I decide what training to do after Hogwarts.”

“Okay, I get it, all is right with the universe again, Hermione Granger wants to continue school after she’s finished school...That’s the reason for the rebel rousing fantasy holiday.” Ron was a little disappointed that Hermione’s idea of the perfect vacation didn’t resemble what Lavender had been planning with the Patil twins bikini clad on a beach, but that was his Hermione.

The combination of the overdose of potion and subsequent throwing up along with the rocking of the train and talking about Dark Wizards, had finally pushed Harry over the edge. He stood up without assistance this time, to rush to the loo to be sick. He needed to be alone.

Ginny offered to wait for him outside the door, but he didn’t want her to hear him wretching. Reluctantly, she gave him his space.

Meanwhile, back in the compartment, Neville gave a brief account of what his perfect holiday would be. He had been too embarrassed to reveal his fantasy in front of Harry so he had waited patiently until he’d left, figuring that if Harry wasn’t back soon, he and Ron would check to see if he was alright.

“Well, my Gran’s always been a bit rough,” Neville explained unnecessarily. “In a way, now that I’m grown up, I kind of understand why. She’s always had to be there for me, to remind me to do stuff, to you know...raise me. She’s never even had a date all these years since my Grandfather passed and she spends every weekend visiting my parents.” Neville looked up, expecting to see, and finding, sad expressions trained on him.

“Anyway,” he went on, trying to ignore the pity, but not feeling perturbed by it. “There’s an elderly gentlemen next door that’s always asking her out on dates, but she always tells him that she can’t because she’s always busy thinking about me and doesn’t want distractions. I was a handful with my forgetfulness, and she’s so into the routine of raising me that she’s forgotten that I’m a man now.”

Neville continued. “What I would do, is write to someone in India and have them send me a magic carpet, even though they’re illegal, ‘cause Gran won’t ride a broom, and this old guy doesn’t have a car or anything because he’s not a Muggle. Gran’s always wanted to ride a magic carpet.......don’t tell anyone, she’s embarrassed by that.”

“I’d pick up the magic carpet, ride it standing up and give it the man next door. If he showed up on that thing...” Neville continued with a faraway look on his face, “my Gran wouldn’t have the willpower to say no. I’d make sure she wore that horrible old vulture hat of hers that’s ready for the trash and I’d tell the old guy to make sure to take the magic carpet out in heavy winds so she’d lose it and I’d never have to see it staring at me from atop her head when she screams at me for forgetting things. I swear that thing gives me the creeps when she bobs her head in anger and it almost seems to agree with her...” he shivered and so did everyone else, remembering the Boggart turning into Snape wearing Neville’s Gran’s clothes in third year. Yeah, that hat had to go!

“And with Gran gone a lot with her gentleman caller on the magic carpet, I’d have time to myself. I could join a recreational Quidditch team.” Neville paused here, waiting for someone to make a snide comment, but none came. Harry wasn’t mean, but Neville had heard of Harry’s nightmare that Neville had replaced him in a Quidditch match and had lost spectacularly.

“Believe it or not, when it’s just for fun, I’m not a bad player,” Neville informed them and no one doubted him. He went on wistfully. “Yeah, if Gran got married...”

“Wait a minute, you just said a few dates,” Hermione smiled.

“Well, a guy can dream can’t he, and if I’m not mistaken, it can be a big dream. I would have the house to myself sometimes, and maybe bring a date over as well.” Neville hadn’t meant to, but he’d looked directly at Luna when he’d said this and without skipping a beat, she had looked at him appraisingly.

“I accept,” Luna said, just like that, as Neville turned a deep shade of red and mumbled what sounded like, ‘ohgoodtha’sgood,’ and he felt completely happy. It looked like at least part of Neville’s dream vacation would come true.

********************************* ****

Ginny wanted to give Harry some space, but she usually knew by instinct when he wanted be alone because he didn’t want to be a burden and when he just wanted to think. She knew that the events of the past week and the early holidays due to evacuation had officially signaled the beginning of the war, which for Harry had started when he’d been an infant.

Ginny crept to the door of the boy’s loo, taking a deep breath, while people in the compartment opposite the loo, stared at her, probably wondering why she was knocking on the boy’s loo door.

“Harry are you okay?” she whispered nervously.

“Ginny, this is the boy’s loo, please just leave me alone for a few more minutes.

Ginny could hear the water running, his voice sounding so small competing with the sound of it. “Are you decent?” she asked, not really caring.

“Ginny, I know you mean well, but we’re almost at King’s Cross and I have to get out of my robes. If my Uncle saw me...even for a minute in them...well he’d just...” Harry sounded like a resigned death row inmate, getting ready to go to execution.

This was, it, there had to be some way to save Harry from having to go to the Dursleys, and he wasn’t going to sit and dread the last half hour of the ride alone locked in the loo.

“Alohomora!” Ginny shouted at the door as the students in the compartment opposite tut tutted in a variety of ways. She entered, closing the door behind her, showing the ‘occupied’ sign on the door. Well it was certainly occupied now.

Ginny gaped in amazement. The girl’s loo on the train had always been really nice, but she found the boy’s had everything theirs did, including a shower, hair dryer, various after shaves and sundry. She wondered at why most of the boys, even in seventh year still wore that same, I don’t care look when they had access to this array of refinement. Lavender would see this room as a real eye opener as to the male psyche.

Harry sat on the ledge of the shower enclosure. He knew that it was clear that he had been crying and he was horrified that Ginny saw him in such a state.

Ginny wet one of the plush terry face cloths with cool water and ran it over his warm face, “Relax Harry, don’t pull away.”

He wanted to, with every fibre of his being, but she had a power over him that he couldn’t deny. He leaned into the cool cloth gratefully, having taken no comfort for himself after he’d wretched, only to find he had nothing left in his stomach after he’d vomited in the compartment due to Hermione’s inducement to save his life from the overdose of potion.

“Harry, why don’t we find you someplace where you can lie down.”

“No, let’s just stay here. I have a feeling once I get to the Dursleys this time, I may not be coming back.” His blunt honesty struck her hard, like a curse.

“Of course you will be...Dumbledore promised.”

The hollowness of her words made him hurt even worse because he hadn’t told her his secret fear...that Dumbledore was mad at him for disobeying and blowing Snape’s cover, causing the Order to lose a valuable source of information on Voldemort.

Ginny pressed her lips to Harry’s, but he backed away quickly. “Gin, I just...” he gestured throwing up to her.

“Very well, have it your way,” she instructed, handing him a self pasting tooth brush. He felt funny with her watching him brush his teeth but when he saw her smile at him from behind as he looked into the mirror, he couldn’t help but smile back. He had two ideas of what his perfect holiday would be, but there was a definite order for them.

Brushing his teeth took all of Harry’s energy and he sat back down on the edge of the shower stall.

A boy shouted, “Oi, are you done in there, if not, you should see a doctor, mate!”

“Use the other one!” Ginny shot back.

There was utter silence on the other side of the door, then they heard a voice muttering something about a girl in the boy’s loo and the person walked away.

“You do know that’s going to start rumours don’t you?” Harry asked her.

“Harry, I have six brothers, and the Burrow only has one loo. If we didn’t brush our teeth together, we’d never get out of the house.”

Harry just stared at this amazing girl. Had she just watched him brush his teeth? Thank Merlin he hadn’t been actually ‘going to the loo.’ He had a feeling that she would have come in anyway. Wasn’t this what married people talked about? People who had been married for way too long?

As Harry thought about the bold nature of his girlfriend and the easy manner in which she talked to him about anything, he knew what his perfect vacation would be, but he couldn’t tell her, because there was something that had to happen first before he would allow her to get too close....... too close? Merlin, she’s kissing me.

“Ginny, we have to stop.”

“Why, we’re just kissing. I might not see you for awhile,” she said, tears now falling defiantly down her cheeks. Harry got a tissue and told her to blow, which she did. Yep, they were an old married couple.

“Because of this, Gin,” Harry said quietly. “Until Voldemort is gone, it’s always going to end like this...... I have a two part holiday fantasy,” he told her honestly, and from his heart.

“I hunt Voldemort down all by myself. I don’t take your brother or you or Hermione or anyone else with me...” he shuddered thinking of Cedric, ‘the spare.’ I find the evil filth by himself and I make him pay. I’ve gone over it a hundred times in my head, Gin...” Harry told her, his voice faltering as he began his long list of grievances that he’d like to see answered by the Dark Lord, starting with his parents.

Harry felt her tremble as she steeled herself to listen. Why did he do this to himself all the time? Why did he always have to be alone?

“I’d put him under the Cruciatus Curse...” Harry said, scaring Ginny just a little. He had told her of the prophecy, and she knew that he had to kill Voldemort. How he expected to do that without the use of an Unforgivable Curse, he knew not but he could see that it startled her to learn how he relished the idea of seeing the Dark Lord suffer. What had she expected him to feel from all these years of torment he had endured at Voldemort’s hands?

“I would make him apologize for doing it.....even if he didn’t mean it. I’d make him writhe for them in pain, the way he did to me when he stole my bloo.......” he stopped abruptly mid word. He hadn’t meant to tell her that, but there was no taking that back. Ginny demanded to know what Voldemort had stolen from him besides his parents, Sirius, Cedric and his life.

“He stole.......he stole you from me Ginny.....” Harry sobbed.

“Harry, what are you talking about? I’m right here.” Harry saw Ginny reach for the doorknob probably going to get Hermione and Ron, and thinking that he was having a bad reaction to his potions.

“That’s not what I mean,” he said, stopping her from turning the door handle. “I know you’re right here......but I’m not.......not until he’s dead Ginny.......Oh God, can’t you see that I can’t get too close because......because if I do.......you’ll go too........he’ll steal you from me like he did with my Mum and Dad and Sirius......” Harry had always felt this way, but he’d never spoken the words out loud, ‘For neither can live while the other survives...’ These terrible words echoed in his head.

“Then we’ll defeat him Harry,” she said, as if it were as easy as that.

“You don’t understand.......he took...everything...”

“Not yet, and I’m not asking you what he took.....I’m asking YOU what YOU want. That was the whole point of talking about fantasy holidays. To see what we have to look forward to. What do you want Harry?” she whispered. “It might even feel good to say it, even if you can’t believe it yet, which we’re going to work on,” she said firmly, leaving no room for discussion or doubt.

No one had ever asked Harry that. What did he want? What would be his perfect vacation or holiday?

“I’m not going into detail because I hate the way you look at me when I talk about it......about him...but suffice it to say, I see myself defeating with extreme prejudice, that foul loathsome murderer who stole my life.”

“That’s it Harry!” Ginny cried, flinging her arms around him. “You can see yourself winning!” She didn’t even bother to stop the flow of tears now, but Harry needed her to stop, so he did the only thing he could think of.

She asked for a fantasy...well she was going to get one. He narrated his every action.

“Well first, I’d snog my girlfriend senseless in the next best thing to a broom closet,” he said, placing his lips on hers and kissing her deeply. When she sighed, he knew there was something strange happening and he was slowly reaching the point of no return for a young man his age. Still, his lips remained locked in place as he willed his hands not to stray too far.

He broke apart, panting, continuing his fantasy. “I would then take my girlfriend to the front steps of Number Four Privet Drive,” he continued, still panting as though this was romantic, which it wasn’t in the slightest. Ginny had thought for sure he was going to talk about...

“I would walk right up to the front door, ring the bell, and wait for my Aunt and Uncle to answer. When they did, I would tell them everything they did wrong, I would then present you to them.......sorry, but they’ll reject you utterly.....then I’d get down on bended knee and propose to you right then and there for all the neighbours to see, and just so there would be no denying that you were ‘one of those lot,” Harry intoned, in a perfect imitation of Uncle Vernon, “I’d make sure I’d been flying right behind Neville’s old Gran so I could grab that ugly vulture hat and I’d place it on your beautiful head while I proposed. There would be no denying you were a witch then,” he said defiantly. “A witch in the family.”

Well, this was HIS fantasy, after all, no matter how bizarre, but now Ginny looked like she wished she had placed some restrictions on the fantasy. Harry knew deep down that Ginny fancied being proposed to on a warm sandy beach...and he could tell that she regretted telling him about Neville’s fantasy vacation.

“I fantasized about being engaged to you too, but not in a vulture hat that Neville’s Gran wore! Oh, Harry you don’t really want me to wear an old vulture hat when you propose to me, do you?” she laughed.

In answer to this, Harry wore a mischievous smile. “I’m picturing you in it right now!” He then took her into his arms and started kissing her passionately again.

“Harry Potter, you perverted prat!” Ginny teased, but she stopped talking when he pulled her as close as she could get to him and she could feel his breathing speed up as he put his hand behind her head for more force in the kiss. Suddenly Harry screamed in surprise as he was pelted with cold water. Ginny had been stepping ever closer to the shower stall and had turned on the water with her wand. Not with a spell from her wand, but by using it manually as a lever to trip the cold water tap. He stood there, sopping wet, gaping at her,

“W....was the k k kiss that bad?” he asked shivering.

“I don’t know the gauge was broken, so I couldn’t tell,” she answered and he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Wha....what gauge?”

“The one that tell us when it’s time to stop......it wasn’t working, the one in my brain that tells me that even though you are so incredibly sexy, it’s not time yet.....”

Harry just stared at her like a fish out water.......okay, in water, as the shower was still running.

“My wand wouldn’t even work....” she panted, still feeling flush with excitement.“I tried a simple Numbing Charm so you couldn’t reach...you know......but it didn’t work.......Maybe I didn’t want it to work, I don’t know...I couldn’t even make the tap come on with it.

“But Ginny, you knew where my hands were......I mean, don’t think I didn’t think about it...but I’d never...not unless you wanted me to, you know that,” Harry stated emphatically, letting the cold water do it’s trick. Maybe Muggle methods were better for this sort of thing, as they didn’t require much skill or thinking of the involved couple.....and they had been about to have become very involved.

“Voldemort’s not getting our moment,” Harry told her, stepping out of the freezing water. “We’re not going to feel forced because he’s pushing the war on us. It’ll happen when it’s time for both us.” Harry felt satisfied in a different way then he expected. He wanted this girl. Her forcing him to state his fantasy, made him realize this. He didn’t want the physical either.....well okay, he wanted that a lot, but he also wanted to have the comfort that he’d had a glimpse of in the loo on the Hogwarts Express, the comfort level of just being themselves. He would never get tired of that.

“Harry just one thing... when you propose to me, be romantic would you. I’d be happy to stage a mock engagement for the benefit of your Uncle complete with Neville’s Gran’s creepy old Vulture hat. I’ll even find a gross old handbag like she carries if you want...but let’s not let THEM steal that moment either, okay?”

“Deal,” Harry grinned. “So... as part of this deal, would you consider charming your nose long and pointy with a few warts?”

“Don’t push it Potter!” she laughed, as she dried him off with a Drying Spell. She smiled in exasperation as she tried to smooth his hair and it just ruffled right back up again. Yes, there it was, that familiarity and he found himself hoping and praying that she would always be there every morning trying to flatten his hair.

When they returned to the compartment, Ginny told everyone that Harry had taken a shower while she had waited outside the door in case he was still sick.

“Funny thing, you’re not even wet mate,” Ron said suspiciously, inspecting his best friend.

“Are you kidding, I was soaked to the bone only moments ago!” Harry defended himself uselessly, until he realized that Ron was only ribbing him. Apparently, the boy who had knocked on the loo door had come to tell them that they’d better check on Harry because something was very very wrong. After Ron and Hermione had checked briefly, listening at the door, Hermione had led Ron away forcefully. She knew they could be trusted and she had used her Prefect privilege to declare that loo off limits for the remainder of the journey. Hermione had placated Ron with their first snogging session, and he was too weak to tease Harry much, mercifully.

They hadn’t even stepped off the Hogwarts Express as it came to a stop when Mr and Mrs Wealey stepped on board, positively beaming. With all the bad things that had happened in the last week, they were so happy to be the bearers of good news, that they couldn’t wait for the students to disembark.


Harry looked around for the Dursleys, not knowing why he had done this, as they had never been so happy to see him that they would go through the barrier to collect him. He knew they wouldn’t be there, but none-the-less, he was planning on kissing Ginny right in front of them after they had stepped through the barrier of Platform Nine And Three Quarters as a preview to what he had planned for the future.

“Harry,” called Mrs Weasley, “good news! A school owl reached us just before the train arrived. You’re to stay with us for the entirety of the renovation and summer holiday,” she beamed at him as Mr Weasley looked on, immensely proud of his family, which included Harry.

“The Burrow will be really crowded dear,” Mrs Weasley told Harry. “With Remus Lupin, Tonks and Mad Eye Moody staying on as security, I daresay, we’ll have to eat in shifts.”

Harry was tying to adjust to this news. His body had been so tense when the train had come to a stop that he could feel his shoulders relax, wondering why Dumbledore had changed his mind on sending him to the Dursleys. Mrs Weasley handed Harry a letter as Ron and Seamus saw to his trunk.

Harry opened the letter with trembling hands, recognizing the parchment and handwriting as Dumbledore’s. The letter explained that Madame Pomfrey had finally convinced him that Harry was not in fit shape to be left in the care of Muggles and he could think of no other suitable place for him to recover than the Burrow under Mrs Weasley’s excellent care.

Harry was happy, but he felt somewhat let down. Somehow, he had hoped that the letter would contain forgiveness...forgiveness for having disobeyed the Headmaster and screwing up so spectacularly, but it wasn’t there.

“Oh, dear, I almost forgot,” said Mrs Weasley. “Dumbledore also sent this for you Harry.” She handed him a hard candy and the wrapper on it said, ‘Fizzing Whizbee.’ Harry smiled, knowing that this was Dumbledore’s way of letting him know that he was welcome to come and speak to him and that all was forgiven.

Harry now had something else to consider. He did not share the next part of his dream vacation because it was just a little too embarrassing. “I can’t tell them that this is something I’ve always wanted,” he decided. “Oh, man, I hope they don’t ask me to help decorate the Christmas in July tree. Aunt Petunia never let me do anything like that before. I’ll screw it up.” Harry had no idea why his secret dream holiday was suddenly making him so nervous. Perhaps because now, there was the distinct possibility that it could come true, with the Christmas in July Celebration.

“No,” he decided. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I don’t care if I have to be assigned twelve Aurors to shop with. I’m going to go to Gringotts and make a serious dent in my accounts. I know the Weasley’s aren’t materialistic, but I’m going to make sure the Christmas tree won’t hold all the presents under it by a long shot. Ginny and I can shop together for Mrs Weasley’s furniture and we’ll be sure to get a big enough table to accommodate all the extra people. I’m going to find Mr Weasley a new flying Ford Anglia if it’s the last thing I do.” All of these thoughts roamed quickly through his head.

Harry smiled fondly. “I’m going to buy Dumbledore a case of, no wash, no smell, non crusty black socks........guaranteed not to get dirty for a whole month,” he planned silently. He would also place two lemon drops in Dumbledore’s package. The old Headmaster would know what he meant by that.

Harry’s imagination ran wild as he planned the holiday he had just been presented with. The Weasleys could never know that they had just given him the best Christmas present he would ever get...a real family Christmas, even if was to take place in summer. His dream holiday was actually going to happen!

“Oh, bloody hell!” Harry heard Ron exclaim, as he asked Hermione how he was supposed to keep Harry and Ginny apart...well, not apart, just not snogging the entire break away.

“Ronald Weasley, language!” Mrs Weasley cautioned sternly as Hermione giggled at him, singing just under her breath, ‘Harry and Ginny sitting in a tree K- I- -S- -S- -I- -N- G, first comes love then comes marriage, then comes Uncle Ronald pushing a baby carriage!”

Harry chuckled silently to himself as Hermione continued her taunts. He had to admit that he did plan on using every spare moment of this respite from the war snogging Ron’s little sister senseless. “Well, I know,” he thought, “I’ll make Ron’s real dream vacation come true, not just the one he wanted to do on my behalf. I don’t think it’ll cost much to have the Chudley Cannons come by for a game of Quidditch against Team Weasley on Christmas in July Eve. He’ll be so pumped up about that, he won’t even know I’m there with Ginny. Now that’s a well rounded dream vacation!”

As they were just about to step off the Hogwarts Express, Harry noticed Mrs Weasley cocking her head so her ear was turned toward Hermione in that mother-like radar sort of way. So they wouldn’t have to endure the entire trip to the Burrow listening to speeches on how she would be delighted to have grandchildren, but just not yet...Harry grinned and started to sing loudly to drown out Hermione’s taunts... “God rest ye merry Hippogriffs...”




‘Dare To Dream’ Summary.........

For when we dream we can climb the highest mountains or swim in the deepest oceans, and if we cannot find a dream for ourselves, maybe if we’re lucky, someone will help us by planting a dream seed for us to try to grow toward, and we must always remember, some dreams can come true.

The Hogwart’s Express takes the students back home for evacuation of the school after an attack by Voldemort. The only thing that will cheer them up, is daring to dream of the perfect holiday........for when we dream
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