To Love or Not to Love

It was quite an odd sensation, seeing someone you once saw murdered looking quite alive and well in front of you. It was this odd sensation that Harry felt as he stared up at the late headmaster, his half-moon spectacles glinting in the sunlight in front of his twinkling blue eyes. Just like before.

Stunned, Harry began to stammer as he stood up to get a better look at the wizard he had seen killed almost two months ago. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was smiling quite serenely, as though this were perfectly normal.

"P- Professor," Harry managed. "But I - I thought you were -"

"Dead?" the wizard supplied, smiling down at Harry. "Yes, it would seem so."

"So are - are you a ghost?" Harry asked stupidly, though he knew perfectly well from his experience of the Hogwarts ghosts that Dumbledore was not one, and neither was he an Inferi.

"This is simply a dream, Harry," Dumbledore explained gently. "I shall not be coming back to the world of the living, I am afraid. In fact, I am quite enjoying the afterlife. Who ever it was that thought of listening to chamber music whilst bowling was a genius!"

Harry smiled awkwardly, unsure of how to react to this. "So, why are you in my dream then, Professor? I mean, you seem quite real ..."

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed, Harry. It is amazing what the sleeping brain can conjure up! Now, as to why I am here, that is quite a simple matter. I have come to show you your future."

Harry spluttered. "Uh - what?" he asked.

He did not have the least idea of what Dumbledore meant by showing him his future. He may have only been in the wizarding world for six years, but he knew enough to know that dead people didn't randomly come back in dreams and show people their future.

"There is no need to be afraid, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "I was simply enjoying a glass of wine with your mother -"

Harry stopped him. "You've - you've seen my mum?" he gasped. "What - what's she like? How is she? Have you seen my dad? What about Sirius?"

Dumbledore looked deeply apologetic and saddened as he answered. "I am very sorry, Harry, but I am not permitted to tell you any such information. All I can tell you is that your mother witnessed your conversation with Miss Weasley and felt it necessary to intervene. Now, while your mother was a great witch in her time, she never had the magic to perform such a spell, so I offered to come instead.

"Now, Harry, I need to explain something to you." Dumbledore's aged features suddenly became grave. "What you need to know is that the smallest of your actions can have the biggest affect on the wizarding world, given the nature of the prophecy. That is why, I suppose, I have been permitted to perform this spell. What I am about to show you is two different futures, one where you decide to make Miss Weasley your girlfriend once again, and one where you decide not to. You will, of course, be in your future body when I perform this spell, and I must impress upon you the importance of not alerting anyone to the fact that the future you has changed at all.

"Do you understand?"

Feeling slightly dazed, Harry hoped dearly that this was all a dream. However, he nodded all the same as Dumbledore smiled once again.

"Right, then we'd better be off, we don't have much time before Molly comes looking for you. Come and take my arm, then."

Obediently, Harry took Dumbledore's arm, then said, "Uh, sir - what exactly are we about to do?"

"Apparate," Dumbledore replied. "I am well aware that you passed your Apparition test - by which, I can tell you, Sirius in particular was delighted - but what we are about to do is a little more complicated than normal Apparition. You see, we are about to apparate onto a different plane."

"Uh - okay," Harry said, wishing dearly that Dumbledore would tell him more about his parents and Sirius, but still feeling glad that he knew they were watching him and that Sirius was happy once again.

Bracing himself, Harry clutched Dumbledore's arm and closed his eyes, ignoring the unpleasant feeling in his stomach as his feet left the floor and flew through mid-air. Then, finally, he felt solid ground beneath him once more and heard Dumbledore speak beside him.

"Open your eyes, Harry," he said cheerfully.

Harry did so and realised he was standing in a changing room in Quidditch robes. Remembering what Dumbledore had said about not letting anyone know that he had changed, he looked around quickly and saw the rest of what seemed to be his team and the reserves sitting on the benches.

"Alright, Potter?" asked a blonde-haired man that Harry recalled being a Seventh Year Ravenclaw when he had been in his first year.

Harry nodded quickly and moulded his face to an expression that he felt showed that he was paying attention.

"Good," the former Ravenclaw said, before turning his attention back on the rest of the team. "Now, Russia's players are good, but they're not as good as ours," the Captain continued. "This may be a Friendly but I want you all to remember that should we win against Russia, we will be playing Italy, and they are tipped to win the upcoming World Cup. So I want you all to treat this match as if it were a proper one." He turned to the male Beater. "You got that, Collins? I don't want you being nice to these Chasers like you were those that Italian ones."

Collins grinned unashamedly but nodded all the same. "Sure, Entwhistle," Collins said, and Harry recalled a memory that he had not had a few moments ago, one that informed him that this was Robert Entwhistle, brother of Kevin Entwhistle, a Ravenclaw he vaguely remembered from his Sorting.

Entwhistle smiled as though proud of himself as he turned back to the rest of the team.

"Now, let's get out there and win this match!" he shouted.

The team and substitutes cheered happily before standing and wandering out towards the pitch, brooms in hand.

Stepping out onto the pitch, Harry felt total euphoria. He had not experienced this feeling in a while, having been in detention during the last Quidditch match of his last term at Hogwarts. Of course his future body was used to it, but he himself was not, and enjoyed every moment of it. There were very few things that brought him the happiness he achieved when flying.

"I give you Wood," Harry heard the commentator shout, "Andrews, Davies, Burrows, Kenyon, Collins aaand Potter!"

Harry couldn't believe how thrilling it was to hear his name shouted like that, as part of the England team. He had dreamed of this moment ever since the Quidditch World Cup in his fourth year and now his dream had finally come true. Well, technically. If this was the future where he was with Ginny, there really wasn't much contest; he would have to choose this future.

Joining the rest of the team in flying round the pitch, Harry listened as the commentator, whoever it was, announced the Russian team.

"I give you Petrova," he shouted, "Smirnova, Pashkov, Kabanov, Fedorova, Dubrov aaand Popova!"

Harry watched as the Russian team zoomed onto the pitch as their names were called, ending with the Seeker, whom a memory told him was Catya Popova. Her long brown hair blew in the air behind her, and she gave Harry a winning smile as she passed. Though he searched, Harry could not find any memories regarding Catya Popova, and decided she was simply attempting to soften him and gain an easy win. Harry, however, was not about to fall for such an easy trick, and chose to ignore her.

Entwhistle shook hands with the Russian Captain, one of the Chasers, Yelena Smirnova and the match began. Recalling any tips Entwhistle might have given him, Harry began to search for the Snitch, remembering that the key idea was to keep Popova away from it until they were at least two hundred points up, for they needed to practise getting their score up, something they would have to do at the World Cup.

It was not long before Roger Davies, whom Harry remembered being the Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team at Hogwarts and whom was now one of the three English National Team's Chasers, scored the first goal of the match, giving England ten points. Cheers rose from one side of the pitch, where many supporters wearing red and white were standing, sending up red and white sparks.

However, the Russian team refused to be outdone and consequently Smirnova scored the next goal just a few minutes later.

The match continued in much the same way; whenever England scored, the Russian team took the Quaffle back and scored, so that by the time the match had been going on for three hours, England were just twenty points up. Harry, however, found he was beginning to tire; it was finding it very hard to keep his eye on Popova, who was very fast and very good at playing Seeker, let alone the Snitch, which he had glimpsed the whole match. Finally, after five hours of non-stop play, Entwhistle, who had let every other player have a break so far, called a time out and brought on a substitution for Harry, allowing him to have a break.

Relieved, Harry walked into the changing room, soaked in his own sweat, and collapsed onto the bench. This was much tougher than he had expected it to be, for while he had the body of a twenty-five year old, he still felt like the seventeen-year-old he had been just a few hours ago and was finding it hard to meet the standards expected of a national Quidditch player.

Harry's mind began to race, thinking of ways he could escape this - maybe if he called Dumbledore back, or if he slipped out a back entrance. He had almost made up his mind to call Dumbledore when the door to the changing rooms opened. Hoping bitterly that it was not Entwhistle, come to fetch him for the rest of the match, Harry looked up anxiously.

"Thought you might be in here."

Harry grinned; it was Ron. His best friend looked much the way he had back in 1997; he was as tall as he had been, his flaming red hair slightly longer than Harry remembered, and he seemed to be trying out the unshaven look. However, the biggest change that Harry noticed was the look of sorrow on Ron's face. He looked unhappy, as though he had not been happy in quite a while, and Harry wondered what had happened to make him so unhappy.

"I just saw Dumbledore," Ron said tonelessly.

Confused, Harry was about to ask what Ron meant - Dumbledore was surely still dead in the future? But then Ron explained.

"I was quite surprised when I saw him," he said, sitting down next to Harry, "he's been dead for years. But he told me what he was doing here, that he was from the past and that he'd brought you."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling quite glad that Ron at least was allowed to know. "What about Hermione? Has Dumbledore told her? I can't wait to see her!"

Ron did not answer and instead said, "I'll come and find you after the match and we'll catch up," he said, just as monotonous as before. "You'll probably be wanted back on the pitch in a minute, so you might want to take this." He took something out from under his cloak and handed it to Harry. "It's just a potion to revive your energy a bit," he explained. "You're allowed to use it, don't worry, you use it in all your major matches."

Harry gratefully took the potion and drank it thirstily, feeling much more awake and energised instantly. He had just handed it back to Ron when a young wizard walked in to inform Harry that he was wanted back on the pitch. Harry sighed and stood up, bidding Ron goodbye.

"Oh, and Harry?" Ron said as Harry got to the door.

Harry turned. "Yeah?"

"Stay clear of Popova, her reputation isn't as clean as you might think," Ron advised.

Nodding, Harry wondered what on earth his own reputation was if Ron felt the need to advise him on this subject. However, he was not given much more time to think this over, as the match was still going on, with England still just fifty points up. It was definitely going to be a long day.