Desires In Another Mirror

'Harry? Harry, come on, everyone else is up already!'

Harry was being bounced up and down - someone was jumping on his bed. For a moment he kept his eyes closed, irritated, wanting to go back to sleep. Then his eyes snapped open as he realised - who would be jumping on his bed?

It was a girl, perhaps ten or eleven years old, with long black hair and a gap between her teeth. She watched him as he opened his eyes, then bounced once more for good measure.

'Come on!' she said. 'We haven't got all day!'

'I... who are you?' Harry asked, sitting up and grabbing for his glasses, which proved to be on a bedside table behind him. 'What am I doing here?'

'Lazing around in bed when you should be up and ready to go, is what you're doing!' she said. 'And I'm Daisy, of course. You know Marigold has short hair now, we don't look anything alike any more, but still nobody can remember which is which. And I think it's disgraceful that our own brother still can't tell us apart.'

'Brother?' Harry murmured.

'Yes, brother, you know, male sibling? Now stop being silly and get up! We need to get going!'

Harry stared at her for a moment, then got out of the bed, slowly and uncertainly.

'Oh, alright, I'll go!' she said. 'I'm not going to watch you get dressed or anything! Just hurry up!'

And she dashed out, closing the door behind her. Harry looked around. It looked like a perfectly ordinary bedroom - wardrobe, chest of drawers, shelf of books and various bits and pieces. There was a remembrall, and a quaffle, and a wizard chess set. On the walls there were posters of quidditch teams, and a few bands Harry didn't recognise. There were clothes strewn on the floor and bits of parchment and books scattered across the desk in the corner.

Harry dug in the chest of drawers for some clothes, then got dressed, thinking hard. What had that mirror at Grimmauld Place done? Was this real? He had been thinking about having brothers and sisters, just before the mirror had... done whatever it had done...

He gazed at his reflection in the apparently perfectly ordinary bedroom mirror as he brushed his hair, and then arranged it as usual to cover his...

His scar. It was gone. He ran a finger wonderingly over his smooth, unblemished forehead.

'Harry! Up! Now!' someone yelled up the stairs.

It was probably safest to play along for now.

'Coming!' Harry called back, then took one more look at his reflection before dashing out of the room.

He walked down the stairs slowly - there were photographs on the wall all the way down. The first one he recognised - it was himself as a baby, and his parents, looking proud and waving delightedly at the camera. He had a copy of that himself. Next, there was a more formal portrait - his parents, sitting together with three children. One of them was Harry himself, perhaps four years old. Then there was a toddler, and a baby in Lily's lap, cooing and giggling at the photographer. The next showed Lily, heavily pregnant, at the seaside with Harry, perhaps six, and another boy about the same age who looked oddly familiar. As Harry descended, the children in the pictures grew older, and so did Lily and James. The last picture was another formal family group, but before he had a chance to inspect it the door at the bottom of the stairs opened and someone came to stand at the foot of the stairs.

'Come on, sweetheart, I want you to have some breakfast before we go,' said Lily.

Harry's heart was suddenly in his throat, and his eyes swam with tears. His mother was standing in front of him, talking about breakfast as though things were perfectly normal. Her voice sounded different - in his memories he heard her screaming, pleading, her voice choked with terror, but now she sounded sweet, and wonderful.

Harry came down the last two steps and fell into his mother's arms, clinging to her tightly, eyes squeezed shut.

'What's the matter, darling?' she asked, hugging him back.

'I... I just wanted a hug,' Harry said, drawing away. 'I'm sorry I got up so late.'

'Oh, well, we're used to it by now,' she said, with a sigh.

She looked at him. He was smiling broadly, unable to help himself.

'You are a funny boy,' she said, ruffling his hair fondly. 'Come on, breakfast.'

He followed her through the door, and found himself in a large kitchen. There were things frying on the stove, and several people sat around the big wooden table. Harry went to sit, staring around at... his family, he supposed.

'Last one up again, eh, Harry,' said his father, with a chuckle, as Harry drew up a chair next to him.

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Lily put a plate of toast in front of him.

'There you go, sweetheart,' she said. 'Anyone want seconds?'

Several voices piped up at once, and Lily went back to make some more.

'Could you pass the butter please... Daisy?' said Harry. His voice sounded strange to himself.

She scooted it across the table to him, and he buttered his toast, looking around the table. His father sat at the head. He really did look an awful lot like Harry, but he was older, more tired than he looked in the photos Harry had seen of him. But then, Harry supposed, he was some fifteen years older than he was in those photos. On James' left was Daisy, then another girl beside her who was her double, except that her hair only just brushed her shoulders, while Daisy's was almost waist-length. That must be Marigold, Harry supposed. Next to Marigold was a slim, thoughtful-looking boy around Harry's age with blond hair. He looked familiar, somehow, but then they all did - they all reminded him of himself, of his parents. On James's other side, next to Harry, there were two more children, a boy and a girl, perhaps about eleven and fourteen. They both had red hair, and green eyes.

Lily came back over with a large plate of toast, which she put in the centre of the table before taking her seat opposite James. All of the children reached eagerly for it.

'Pass the jam, Harry,' said the red-haired girl. He did so.

'Who has the marmalade?' asked Marigold.

'Just a minute,' said the blond boy, spreading it onto his toast slowly and carefully.

'Oh, come on, Dudley!' said Marigold. 'You always take forever with the marmalade.'

Dudley? Harry stared at the blond boy. Now that he knew that this was his cousin, he could see it - the same blue eyes, the same bow-shaped mouth, the same round nose. But he was... slim. And smiling and friendly, and talking quite normally with the red-haired boy, instead of shouting or throwing a tantrum. Harry ate his toast, but barely tasted it. He concentrated on watching his family.

'Now,' said Lily, once the last pieces of toast had been polished off, 'we all know that today is the last day of the summer holidays, and most of you horrible lot will be going back to school tomorrow.' The children were silent, gazing excitedly at one another. Clearly they had been waiting for this. 'And so,' Lily continued, 'today, we're going to take you somewhere exciting. Somewhere wonderful...'

'Somewhere we go every last day of the summer holidays,' James interrupted with a grin.

'THE WEASLEY PICNIC!' the children cried, all at once. Daisy actually stood up on her chair and jumped up and down.

'Do we stand on chairs at the breakfast table?' Lily asked.

'I'm guessing the answer is "no",' said Daisy, getting down.

'Bill should be Apparating here with our Portkey any minute,' said James. 'So I want everyone to be ready to go. Hair brushed, shoes on, all that stuff. Get going!'

The children scrambled to get up the stairs and get ready. Harry followed them, going into the room where he had woken up and managing to find his own shoes. He couldn't stop smiling. He considered, briefly, that this might be some kind of trick, but he didn't believe that anyone could fake this. It was too real to be a dream. The only explanation was that that mirror in Grimmauld Place had somehow transported him into a different version of his life, where his parents had never died.

He wanted to get back to his own version of reality, of course he did. But at the moment, he had no idea how. He supposed finding the mirror and going back through would work, but he had no idea whether he would be able to get to Grimmauld Place. For the moment it seemed best to keep quiet and just go along with everything. And it couldn't hurt to enjoy it.

In a few minutes, they were all back in the kitchen.

'Look, look, there's Bill!' cried Daisy, pointing out of the window.

She was right; the Weasleys's eldest son was approaching up the footpath, with a deflated football under one arm.

'Everyone got everything they need?' asked Lily, finishing packing cakes into a tin and giving it to James while she slipped her shoes on. 'Got your wands, Harry, Victoria, Edward? Shield hats, Daisy and Marigold and Dudley?'

Harry had stuck his wand in his pocket out of habit, but he hadn't been expected to be allowed to use it. Perhaps the rules about underage magic were different here.

'Morning, Potters!' said Bill, letting himself in. 'Quickly now, the Portkey's going to go any minute.'

They all crowded around the deflated football, and after a few moments Harry felt a pulling sensation, and all of them found themselves in a large field. There was bunting stringing itself around the edge of the field, a large table laden with food, and several other people appearing, transported by Portkey.

There were people that Harry recognised - many, in fact. There was Luna Lovegood, with a man who must be her father, laying out a large picnic blanket. There were Fred and George, conjuring some chairs for the new arrivals. There - Harry felt a lump in his throat - was Cedric Diggory, throwing a quaffle back and forth with his father, as his mother watched. The last time Harry had seen Cedric, the bold Hufflepuff had just been murdered by Lord Voldemort. The last time Harry had seen Amos Diggory, he had been weeping for his dead son. Harry felt warm inside, seeing them so happy.

'Harry! Oi, Harry!'

Harry turned to see Ron and Hermione running towards him. Hermione caught him in a tight hug, and Ron patted him on the back.

'Good summer, mate?' Ron asked.

'Yeah, not bad,' said Harry. 'You?'

'Yeah, it was alright, wasn't it?' Ron said, turning to Hermione.

'Yes, not bad,' she agreed. 'Could have been worse. I can't wait to get back to school tomorrow, though.'

'Typical,' said Ron, rolling his eyes.

'Education is more important these days than ever...' Hermione began, but Ron cut her off.

'We know, we know, we'll be getting this lecture from McGonagall tomorrow anyway. Let's just enjoy ourselves today, eh?'

'Alright then, you win - this time,' she said, kissing him on the cheek. She turned to Lily. 'Do you need Harry for anything?' she asked.

'No, that's alright,' laughed Lily. 'You three run off. We'll see you later, Harry dear.' She ruffled his hair and went off towards where Molly was arranging food on the big table. James enlisted Daisy and Marigold's help in arranging their picnic blanket, while Dudley and Edward went off to talk to Cedric, and Victoria wandered over to see what Ginny was doing.

Ginny greeted Victoria, and then ran over to talk to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

'Did you think you were going to get away without saying hello?' she asked Harry, amusedly.

'Well, I...' Harry began.

Ginny kissed him full on the mouth, and then prodded him in the stomach, mock-frowning at him.

'Just don't do it again,' she said. 'Now, Victoria and I have things to do and people to see, but I'll see you later...'

And she ran off to rejoin Harry's sister. Harry stared after her for a moment, tasting his lips where she had kissed him. That had been... strange. But nice. He had never really thought of Ginny in that way before, but now that he thought of it... she was very pretty. And they did get on very well. And that kiss had been electric.

'Harry? Harry? Earth to Harry Potter?'

Harry blinked, and looked at Hermione, who was waving a hand in front of his face.

'Are you still with us?' she asked, grinning.

'Just about...' Harry said.

'Young love, eh?' Hermione said to Ron, teasingly.

'It's pathetic,' he agreed, wrapping his arms around her stomach from behind, and resting his chin on her shoulder. 'All that mooning over each other...'

'Ginny's been like a lost soul all summer,' Hermione agreed. 'You didn't write to her nearly enough, you know,'

'Well, I...'

'One letter a day apparently just won't do...'

'And I kept telling her,' said Ron, 'to give you a break, because of all the problems with letters these days, but she swore that there would be Words when you got back to school...'

Harry looked over at Ginny, who winked at him before returning to her conversation. He weighed the odds, based on the reception she had given him, and the expressions on Ron and Hermione's faces.

'Yeah, right,' he said, disbelievingly.

'Aaw,' said Ron. 'Never mind, worth a try eh, mate?'

'Their love was just too strong for your teasing, Ronald Weasley,' Hermione said. 'Bless them. Oh, and speaking of... look who's here!'

Harry turned to see another two people arrive by Portkey - Sirius and Lupin. Daisy and Marigold lost no time, running up to them for hugs and begging sweets from Lupin, who apparently had an ample supply in his pockets.

Sirius looked so well, and happy. Harry felt tears in his eyes again, and blinked them back. His godfather was grinning and talking animatedly with Marigold. He was hugging Lily and James, and ruffling Edward's hair. He was...

He was holding Lupin's hand.

For the umpteenth time that day, Harry found himself staring in disbelief. Was everyone happily paired off in this version of reality? He had never even imagined that Sirius and Lupin felt that way about one another. But then, there was a lot here that he had never imagined.

Sirius saw Harry watching them and beckoned him over. Harry went, and found himself enveloped in a big hug, first by Sirius, and then by Lupin.

'How's my favourite godson?' Sirius asked. 'Behaving yourself?'

'Mostly,' Harry grinned.

'Glad to hear it,' said Sirius.

The day passed in a blur of delight for Harry. A little after Sirius and Lupin arrived, Neville turned up - with his parents. Frank and Alice Longbottom looked healthy and happy, much different than they had the first and only time he had met them back in his reality, on the Closed Ward at St Mungo's. Neville had come over to chat with Harry, Ron and Hermione, full of a story about some plant he'd found over the summer. Cedric, Luna, and half a dozen other people he recognised from Hogwarts had waved cheerfully at him. The food had been wonderful, and he had eaten until he almost felt sick. Then everyone had lazed around, watching some of the younger children put on a show, and after that there had been games and races, and all sorts of entertainment, including music and dancing, and then more food. His family were wonderful - his brother and sisters seemed nice, and Dudley was incredibly polite and friendly. The weather was beautiful, the surroundings were lovely - it was the perfect day. Nobody seemed to notice that Harry was a little quiet. And when they took a Portkey back to Godric's Hollow just as it was beginning to get dark, he was happy to hug his parents and siblings goodnight, before going up to his own room to lie in bed and wonder about everything that had happened. It all seemed so perfect, so beautiful. He found himself hoping that he would be able to stay.