The star, his moon and their comets

PROLOGUE The Potter Twins

Rainy days held a special place in the heart of Emma Lily Potter. Seated by the window, the eight-year-old rested her head against her knees, closing her eyes to conjure a realm of dreams. 

In this fantastical world of her own making, motorcycles soared through the air, people shape-shifted into animals, and magical brooms were essential to the unfolding adventures. 

It was a world patiently awaiting her arrival.

Her twin, Harry Potter, perplexed by the distant gaze of his sister, inquired, "What are you looking at, Em?"

"Not much, dreamt about that flying broom again, Har," she replied, her eyes glinting with imagination.

"Oh, that's one of my favorites!" Harry exclaimed as he settled beside her. The peculiar connection between the Potter twins was evident in the fact that they sometimes shared identical dreams of a magical world they had once known, though not every dream held pleasant memories.

"I wish I could've dreamt that one as well," Harry mused, revealing his recurring dream of a green light and an ominous laugh. 

Despite the unsettling nature of his dream, neither of them dwelled on it, dismissing it as mere fantasy.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Emma responded empathetically. "I could tell you about mine if it'll make you feel better."

"I would love that, Em," Harry replied, a smile brightening his face as he settled comfortably at his sister's feet.

As Emma spoke animatedly, her eyes sparkled with the vivid imagery of her dream. "So, picture this, Harry. I was on a broomstick, right? And suddenly, whoosh! I'm soaring higher and higher into the sky."

Emma grinned. "That's when the laughter kicked in. First, there was this woman's laugh – so alive and full of joy, like music in the air?"

"And then, brace yourself, there were these bark-like laughs. Can you believe it?" she continued, with a laugh of her own.

"They were the most contagious laughs I have ever heard." Emma said with a giggle.

Harry could only watch her sister in amusement and wonder. The way these dreams cheered his sister was inexplicable to him, and also the greatest feeling in the world. To know she could escape for just a few hours, from their tiring life at the Dursleys, was a gift to Harry.

"What else happened, Em? Go on, go on," Harry encouraged with genuine happiness.

"Well, I went up in my broom. And the feeling of being up there in the sky..." she said longingly "Just feeling the breeze in my face, watching the birds in the clouds and the tiny people on the ground. It was magic Harry, plain magic." 

She turned to look at her brother with a smile which Harry returned gracefully.

Emma's eyes sparkled as she imagined herself riding a broomstick high above the clouds. In these moments, the boundaries of their cupboard seemed to vanish, and the twins felt truly alive.

Uncle Vernon's disdainful voice reverberated through the modest walls of the Little Whinging residence, unsettling the Potter twins. The place they called home, if one could even call it that, offered little comfort. Both siblings instinctively straightened themselves, accustomed to the unwelcome interruptions.

"What are you on about, you freaks? Lazy as always," Uncle Vernon's words carried a sting, echoing the harsh reality of their daily lives. 

In the aftermath of their parents' tragic car crash five years ago, Harry and Emma found themselves at the mercy of their callous aunt, uncle, and cousin, enduring mistreatment.

As Harry cautiously rose to address the unwarranted criticism, he explained, "It's raining, Uncle Vernon, and we've already completed today's chores. The only thing left is the garden."

The routine, a monotonous cycle of chores and unkindness, defined Emma and Harry's existence in the Dursley household. Despite being twins, Harry took on the role of Emma's protector, a responsibility thrust upon him by the tragic loss of their parents. He toiled silently, often completing additional tasks without disclosing the extra burden to Emma.

"And it's raining, Uncle Vernon. We can't go out like this," Emma asserted with newfound confidence. Uncle Vernon, unimpressed, emitted an exasperated huff.

"Well, if everything is done, why am I still seeing your faces here?" he retorted dismissively. In response, Harry and Emma exchanged a knowing glance before silently making their exit from the room

"Hey Em, how about a ride?" Harry's cheerful voice cut through the lingering tension.

"Sounds like fun," Emma replied, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

Harry took Emma's hand, their fingers intertwining in a familiar, comforting grip, and led her towards their refuge – the cupboard. This "ride" was a whimsical game Harry had concocted a couple of years ago.

Emma and Harry were mostly left in their cupboard when there were no more chores left. 'We don't want to see your little freaky faces around if there's no need' Uncle Vernon had said.

The cupboard was too tight for two tiny people, and it was also very dark. Sometimes it was filled with spiders and ants. Sometimes, when Emma was younger, she would get scared and she would start crying. 

So Harry came up with a game. 

He and Emma would close their eyes and Harry would narrate a story, mostly a story from their dreams because just like they couldn't explain why sometimes they shared dreams, there was another thing they couldn't explain.

Hand in hand, they entered their cramped cupboard, where the darkness was their canvas, and their imaginations painted the world they longed for. While Harry narrated their fantastical tales, Emma noticed something peculiar. Whenever their hands touched, a connection seemed to form between them. It was as though their dreams became more vivid, and their emotions more intense when they were physically linked. 

They couldn't explain this strange connection, but they cherished it. It was a bond that ran deeper than blood, one that allowed them to share their dreams and experiences in a way that no one else could understand. 

 So during the game, the story's adventures and the feelings it conveyed were enhanced, which is why Emma had once pointed out it felt like a magical ride.

So Harry James and Emma Lily Potter laid on the floor of the tiny cupboard of a house in Privet Drive. They closed their eyes and imagined a world they thought they designed. 

A world where they could hear the laugh of a man and a woman. 

A world where they could perceive the slight smell of chocolate and wet dog. A world where small things like those felt like magic to them. 

As the rain continued to patter against the window, the twins closed their eyes and let their imaginations carry them away, finding solace in the magical world they had created together.