Harry awoke to the screaming of Aunt Petunia's shrill voice outside his door. She banged on the door and with a swift movement Harry could hear come from outside the cupboard, she unlocked the door.
"Get up you lazy bum!" She shouted to him through the door. "It's Dudley's birthday and we're going to the zoo! Get out here and start breakfast!"
And with that, Harry heard her stomp away, her heels clip-clopping as she walked off to the living room. Harry rubbed his eyes and put his hand on his head. He had awoken from a dream he that he couldn't seem to classify it as nice or a nightmare. It had been amazing, what he could remember at least. But he couldn't grasp the name of any of the people in the dream. The fading memory of a boy with red hair and freckles, and a girl with a fair face and amazing talent lingered in his mind.
But yet it was only a dream. It faded more and more as he opened the door and stumbled sleepily toward the kitchen. For a moment he stared at the pile of Dudley's presents sitting on the kitchen table. He was turning twelve. Harry counted them.Thirty-six. He grunted to himself. He took out the frying pan and started to fix breakfast.
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A Different Epilogue to Harry Potter
FanfictionWhat if Harry Potter had a different ending? Some people tell me that killing Fred was the worst thing J.K. Rowling could do. I don't think so.
