Lilium Regium

Chapter I + Rewrite I

Crimson red.

That was the main color Harry saw every day of his life since he was three.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate the color even as it spilled & stained his clothes and the floor.
Perhaps it was because of the red haired woman he had been dreaming about, screaming as a bright emerald green light hit her by an blue eyed man, who looked old and deranged.
Or it could have been because of the red eyed, slightly messy brown haired man who appeared within his other dream. One of which seemed to be a memory of when he was younger, with another man that had onyx black eyes & silky black hair and another child who had silver eyes and silver-blond hair which he seemed to be attracted towards.

Of course, since most of his dreams have a bad turn, he wasn't surprised when the same old blue eyed man showed up.

All harry knew however, was that he couldn't trust that man and had get away before he was taken.
Even though the dream often left him feeling overwhelmed, the dream was still Harry's favorite, and he liked to think that they were part of his real family before he was taken by the horrid & dull purple figure.
He also liked to pretend that the two dreams were connected some way. That maybe after he was taken, the red haired woman was his mother and she was taking care of him on his parents' behalf to protect him from the coot.

Of course, he never knew what the lights were and wondered if it was magic. He knew that the things he done accidentally were magic, and that it seened to only activate when he was really emotional. Otherwise than that, he didn't know what it could have been and how else could he have gotten on top of the roof when Dudley and his gang were chasing him?
Harry had tried to use magic when the Durseys were away once and found out that he couldn't use any except only accidentally. He figured that the magic might only work if he could say the magic words or if he had to chant in a certain language.

(written on ???)
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• Chapter I rewrite •

Crimson red.

That was the main color Harry, saw every day of his life since he was three and brought to this horrid house.
Yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate the color even as it spilled & stained his clothes and the floor.

Perhaps it was because of the red haired woman he had been dreaming about, screaming as a bright emerald green light hit her by an blue eyed man, who looked old and deranged.
Other times, it wasn't the dull old man who killed the red haired woman. Instead, it was a humanoid creature of some sort, with red eyes. Unlike the old man, Harry didn't feel any resentment or fear towards the creature, only sadness. He never knew why and perhaps it was because of a slightly messy brown haired man with the same crimson eyes who appeared within his other dream.

The other dream always seemed to Harry as a memory of when he was younger, before he was taken and moved to this horid house.
For some reason, the creature never appeared in his other dream, and often times Harry would think that the two red eyes were the same.

Within the other dream, they were celebrating something, one that had to do with a fire and a version of Christmas that Harry never saw before.
Sitting alongside him was the red eyed man and a man that had onyx black eyes & silky black hair. Harry wondered if they were his parents, as they seem to help harry with most things and fussed over him.

Other people were there at the celebration, though he never remembered how they looked exactly. The only exception was a boy who had silver eyes and silver-blond hair which he felt a connection towards.

Even though the dream often left him feeling overwhelmed, the dream was still Harry's favorite, and he liked to think that they were part of his family.

And of course, since his dreams always seemed to have a bad turn, he wasn't surprised when the same old blue eyed man showed up.
All harry knew, was that man was dangerous and had get away before he was taken by the horrid & dull purple figure.

Harry also liked to pretend that the two dreams were connected some way. That maybe after he was taken, the red haired woman was his nanny and she was taking care of him on his papas' behalf to protect him from the old coot.

He never knew what the lights were. Or what every freaky stuff (as Vermon dub it) were either. Yet as he could bring himself to hate the lights, he still couldn't hate the scarlet red that continued to fall from his wounds.

(written on feb 21st 2021)
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