The Line Between Illusion and Reality

The world had become an adversary in Harry's eyes. Every single person depended on him to finish off Voldemort by himself, and the only way they wanted to help was by offering to make him the Ministry's puppet. Harry wasn't willing to be used like that. He didn't belong there, and until he had his infamous scar and the reputation of the Chosen One, he would never feel at home. If anyone deserved a break, it would be him, but the question was what he would do to forget everything.

A vacation sounded pleasant, where he could escape far away to an unknown island, relax, and catch some fish for dinner. The only problem with that was that someone would eventually find him. The sensors he had once been thankful for would now bite him in the back. Whatever he did, a vacation was awaiting him. There was no way he could bear to stay in Grimmauld Place anymore. Every inch of space reminded him of Sirius, sorrow, and regret. If only he hadn't run off to the Department of Mysteries, Sirius would still be alive. He would have liked to forget that thought but he just couldn't. It was like a puppy dog trailing him endlessly.

His room was the gloomiest one in his opinion, with stained walls that appeared to have been untouched for hundreds of years, and there were no portraits or posters of familiar faces to enlighten the room. It even smelled rotten.

The more Harry thought about it, the more he realized that what he wished more than anything else was to see his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, and especially a world bereft of Voldemort and Death Eaters. He wanted to know how it felt to be raised by his parents and to be a normal teenager who had friends and played Quidditch with them every week. The only way he could do this was by calling on a Time Bender. He had actually heard of them in his third year at Hogwarts by Hermione. Yes. That was it. The only problem was that he didn't know how to call them, and he certainly didn't have any books he could research from at Grimmauld place. If he asked someone about it, they would know what he was up to. Oh, what to do…

"Er-Time Bender, I call on you." He said, feeling quite silly. Nothing happened.

"Time Bender! I summon you!" He grabbed a hold of his wand and shook it violently. Something appeared in front of his eyes. It was an old lady with the longest salt pepper colored hair he'd ever seen, which went down past her waist. Half of it was in the front, covering her ancient-looking blue cloak decorated with dusty pearls on the rims. A long pointed black hat lay on her head, towering over him like a giant.

Harry stood there open mouthed as she lifted an eye, "I believe you called?"

"Err-yeah. Are you a Time Bender?" The witch's eyebrows were white and she had wrinkles spread across her whole face, including her sagged neck. The woman must have been over five hundred years old.

"My name is Serafina, and yes, I am a Time Bender. Name your wish and I will grant it."

"How much do you take?" Harry said anxiously, hoping that the cost wouldn't be too high.

"Thirty five Galleons per month. Three hundred and seventy a year as a bargain."

"Oh." Harry thought about it for a moment. How long should he go? If he went away for a month, people would worry about him. If he told them where he was going, they would follow him after the first few days.

"If I pick a month, can I come sooner if I want to?" Harry asked.

"Certainly, but it depends on your mind. If you do not desire to return to your present time, it will not happen. Only when you truly desire it I will show up."

Oh, then he would never want to come back. Well, as long as he had control over the time, he guessed it would be alright.

"What is your wish?"

He gathered his words slowly, making sure to get the wording exactly right, "I wish to go to a world where there is no Voldemort nor Tom Riddle, no Death Eaters, and my mother Lily and my father James are alive and together. Also, my godfather Sirius Black should be alive." He dropped thirty five Galleons on her palm. She inserted it into her robe pocket and pulled out a fistful of shimmering white powder.

"Hold out your hands."

Harry obeyed her command and held them out a few inches apart. Serafina separated the powder and sprinkled it onto his hands. The powder felt cold on his skin, and as a few seconds passed, the powder rose into hazy smoke illuminating up to his face. Serafina placed her own hands above his and chanted in an unfamiliar language with her eyes shut. Light shone all around him to the point that Harry couldn't keep his eyes open from the vibrancy. Gradually, the witch facing him escaped from sight and blackness pervaded his vision.

…

Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead as he rose from his bed. He felt as if someone had just twirled him around a hundred times, causing him to faint and crash to the ground. His hands reached for his glasses on the side desk, but the glasses weren't there and neither was the desk. After he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, he realized that he didn't need glasses to see. Everything was crystal clear to him.

Apparently, he had been living in a stranger's room. From what he could see so far, he was a cool kid. There were moving Quidditch posters spread out across all the walls, and on top of a bookshelf were small models of Snitches whizzing around a pair of Bludgers. Harry got to his feet and opened the bookshelf and gasped. There were tons of books, and as he flipped through some of them, he doubted if any of them had ever been opened. Well, some things never changed.

He took more time to look around and saw that his room was painted light red and his fluffy bed was almost as high as him. Next, he opened the lacy curtains to his window and looked out. He couldn't even see one house or car in the vicinity. All he could see were groups of trees bunched up to his far left and farther than them were sloping hills. Harry craned his neck to see the barriers of the house and noticed wide garden patches bordering the house. He guessed his mother had planted them. His mother…

Harry practically skipped down the stairs because he couldn't wait to see his mother. He could have waited for his father because he had often heard about him and seen him in Dumbledore's Penseive, but the most he could recall about his mother was from Professor Slughorn and the Potions master she had been. Before he got a chance to see her face, something else astonished him. The house was humungous. The living room could have covered three of his old bedrooms back at Grimmauld Place, because even with the couch and the fashionable chairs surrounding the interior, the room still appeared spacious. He was surprised to see an average sized television at the corner but guessed that since his mother was a Muggleborn, the house must have as many Muggle devices as Wizarding.

"Why are you up?" A voice from behind echoed in his ears. He jumped and pivoted. There stood his mother. She was much thinner than he had imagined her, with her bones sticking out of her long slender arms and out of her small kneecaps. His heart jumped from excitement as she awaited an answer.

"Boy, why are you gawking at me? What are you doing up? It's five in the morning."

Everyone had been right so far. His eyes were identical to hers. They were a shining green, dominating as the most captivating feature of her face. Her wavy red hair came past her shoulders, vibrating light similarly to her eyes.

"Er-I didn't realize what the time was. I'll go back to sleep." He was about to add Mum at the end of the sentence, but didn't because he thought it would sound too strange.

"If you want, you can work on your summer homework. I haven't seen you touch it. Your sister's done already."

Harry had barely taken one step on the staircase when he froze at her words. Sister? Since when did he have a sister? His head rushed uncontrollably, raising all types of questions. What was her name? How old was she? He wanted to know everything right then and there but he knew he had to go back upstairs. Trying not to let his emotions get the best of him, he inhaled and exhaled and went up the stairs as silently as he could, back into his room. As he walked across the hallway, something attracted his attention. He stared into the mirror at his weird self without his glasses. Harry still had his scar. He rubbed his hand over it in amazement. How and why did he still have it? Was it a signal or reminder that he still belonged in the other world where his parents weren't alive? Harry had so many questions to ask that he was scared who to ask and whether he would scare them with all these questions that he should have already known the answers to.

Time passed slowly, too slowly, and he spent his time looking over his homework that he found in his trunk. The content seemed quite familiar. He had to write an essay about Advanced Vanishing Spells and an essay on the Felix Felicis Potion. Harry remembered taking it a few months ago and he still had some of it at Grimmauld Place.

At around nine o' clock, his Mum came in with a half full basket of clothes.

"Give me your dirty clothes." She said callously, sticking out the basket in front of him.

"Uh…" Harry searched the room with his eyes for some clothes but didn't spot them. His room was unusually clean. Normally, he was a down right slob. He looked back at Mum and she pointed to the closet. He heaved it open and found another round white basket with some pants at the surface. They must have been wearing Muggle clothes during the summer. He handed it to her, receiving a strange look from his mother. She shook her head and walked out. Harry closed the door behind him and followed her down the stairs. The house was alive now, much too alive. There were a set of twins eating scrambled eggs on the kitchen table. They didn't look like girls to him. They were young boys, about the age of six. They had inherited Mum's auburn hair, reminding him of Fred and George. Both of them were spilling their orange juice and eggs as they clumsily ate.

"Clint. Mase. Hurry up and then take a bath. We have Diagon Alley waiting for us."

So there were four children in the family, including him. He was astonished. Harry had never imagined his mother would have more children after him. Hadn't he been enough? Now that he thought about it, she seemed less of a mother and more like a housemaid. She hadn't said one nice thing to him and she didn't have that generous personality that he had dreamed of for the past seventeen years. Well, having four kids must have put a damper on her personality. He had to admit that he couldn't blame her.

Suddenly, a tall man with ruffled black hair walked in the kitchen, wearing blue pajamas. Harry's heart jumped again. His father had glasses that shielded his dark eyes and gave him a mature look all over. Harry felt as if he was staring at a reflection of himself, but only adding age, height, and the green eyes.

"Harry, what are you doing? Sit down."

Harry reluctantly took a seat next to Dad and took a plate for his own. It smelled delicious. So far, he didn't belong to this new family. He hadn't spent enough time with them to get used to everyone.

"So, am I going to Diagon Alley too?" Harry said, a bit intimidated, as he took a bite out of his eggs.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're going to be home training with your Dad. Seriously, what's gotten into you this morning?"

"Nothing. I just didn't sleep well last night. I worked on some of my homework though."

For the first time, Harry saw a smile creep up on his mother's face. He had never known she had a dimple on her right cheek. She looked beautiful when she smiled.

"Good. You might want to get cracking at those books while you're on a roll."

Harry nodded, knowing inside that he would never touch those books again.

"Mum, look. He's spilling his orange juice all over me!" One of the twins whined loudly.

"Stop it Mase. Clean it up when you're done."

"Oh!" His Dad clicked a finger, looking at Harry, "I just remembered. Your sweetheart Floo'ed over just a few minutes ago."

"Who, Ginny?" Harry blurted out, and immediately wanted to kick himself for opening his mouth. He squinted his eyes in regret as his parents stared at him.

"Who's Ginny?" Mum said suspiciously, putting the plate on the table.

"No one. So what did you say to her Dad?"

"I told her you were sleeping. You might want to Floo over for a moment or two."

"Oh, I see." No, he didn't see. He didn't even know his own girlfriend's name. He shouldn't have said Ginny. Why had he even thought of her? They were not an item any more.

"HARRY AND MARISSA SITTING IN A TREE-"

"Kids, quit it-"

K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" The twins sang. Harry didn't know why, but their high whiny voices made him cackle.

Dad looked at him, crunching his eyebrows, "Why in the name of Merlin are you laughing? Don't encourage them."

"I can't help it." Harry said in between his laughing.

"Clean up now, you two. Harry, don't stay longer than five minutes there. No snogging time for you."

Harry blushed crimson as the warmth crept up his cheeks. He had made out with someone and his mother knew about it and might have seen him doing it. It wasn't exactly the most pleasant thought.

As Mum picked up the basket that she'd rested to serve breakfast, Dad got up and took it away from her.

"How many times have I told you not to carry heavy things? The Healer told you that too."

"Oh, shove it James. I'm on my fourth pregnancy. I'm in a perfectly good position to judge what's heavy for me." She snatched the basket back from him.

Harry dropped the fork from his hand. A fifth child? Were her parents crazy? Or he should have said Weasley. The Weasleys…Harry wondered if he still was friends with Ron and Hermione. Surely having siblings didn't change everything in his life?

After Mum left, Harry spoke under his breath, "Is she always that nice?"

"What?" His Dad grinned, "No, she's not. She can be quite nasty when she's not four months pregnant. Tell you what. I'll give you an extra ten minutes at Marissa's but make sure you come back with your head on our lesson and now on how good your girlfriend looks in a bikini."

"Dad!"

He guffawed vociferously, "I'm just teasing you, son. Come, help me wash these dishes. The less work your mother had to do the less grumpy she is."

"Okay." Harry got off his chair and followed Dad to the sink. As they were washing, he thought of something, "Why don't we just use magic?"

"One, because you're still not allowed to use magic, and two, your mother doesn't like to use it very much."

"Why not?"

He raised his eyebrows at Harry, "You are asking me like you've never seen her before."

Harry laughed nervously, "Well, I think I hit my head coming downstairs. Tell me."

His Dad smirked and went on, "She says that people are too dependent on magic and don't learn the meaning of hard work. I sneak and use it sometimes of course, but when she's pregnant, she's so jittery and wanders all over the house the whole day."

"Oh…so what's the lesson about today?"

"Dueling, like it always is. You know, I think Lily's right. Something's up with you today. I'll have to examine your head later. Now go take a shower. I'll do the rest." He gave Harry a wink. Harry grinned and washed his hands.

As he took a shower, he thought about everything that had happened downstairs. His father giving him dueling lessons was so strange, especially when they all lived in a world with no Voldemort. He made it a mental note to ask Dad whether he existed or not. Why else would he be training everyday in the summer? His Dad was much cooler than his Mum so far. He wanted to wait and see how she was after she had her baby. Thinking of dueling made him wonder about what his parent's professions were. Harry guessed Dad was an Auror but he didn't know about Mum. They must have done something respectable because anyone who took one look at this house would know they were rich.

He went downstairs in jeans and a green short sleeved shirt, the first clothes he'd seen in his closet. There were a lot of Muggle clothes, probably because their Mum liked to see her kids in Muggle clothes.

When he approached the fireplace, Clint and Mase followed him, singing the tree song over and over again. He was not amused this time. He revolted by chasing them like a monster, and they eventually disappeared. He went back to the family room, took a hold of some Floo powder from the stack next to the fireplace, and threw it into the flaming fire, and yelling, "Marissa's house!"

Harry went whirling through many fireplaces and finally landed into the designated one, not having any dirt on him except for his hand. Harry didn't even get a chance to look at his surroundings before someone snatched him from behind, twirled him around, and put their lips smack on his.