I've got my mother's love
Harry vaguely hears singing and he immediately knows that this isn't some nightmare like he's been having the last few nights. He feels safe like Voldemort and his followers could never reach him here. He feels like he shouldn't be here, like he's interrupting a private moment. A scene slowly appears in front of him, he can't find the source of the singing. Looking around he finds himself in some sort of home with murals painted all around, wooden stairs, and a window. Slowly creeping toward it, he sees that he's in a tower of some sort with greenery all around and not another building in sight.
I shouldn't ask for more
'There it is again.' Harry turns and this time he can track the source. Looking up he sees a girl with long golden hair, he now notices that the hair is laying all throughout the room, down the stairs, over the cabinets, and on top of the beams. She's enchanting.
I've got so many things
She's leaning against the door frame and holding herself. 'She looks so lonely.' She finally looks up with gigantic eyes that are heavy with sorrow and an intense bottle-green eyes stare at him or through him. He starts to notice the gleaming sparkles around the room, a show of her, magic?
I should be thankful for
Creeping closer, he sees freckles lightly scattered across her face and a chameleon? On her shoulder trying to console her. A lone tear falls from her eye and gets to know her face as it takes its journey down her cheek. She makes her way over to her vanity.
Yes, I have everything- except, I guess, a door
Harry looks over to where she used to stand and finds the fact to be true. Looking back at the girl, he finds that she has started to comb her hair. 'A tedious and long task no doubt.' Looking around at the murals on the walls, he finds that she was the one who has painted them if the little bowls of dried up paint are anything to go by. "You live here?" The girl looks up and at the spot where he would be standing, 'What am I? How am I here?' The girl starts to sing again.
Perhaps it's better that I stay in
'Better that I stay in? Does that mean she never leaves this place?' Harry starts to explore the place. He notices 3 years worth of books about magic, a few about sewing and baking, and a few magical looking books he doesn't recognize, confirming she's a witch in his head. Harry starts to count the spaces in his head. 'There are only 3 rooms in here and that's counting the bathroom. Maybe, she just meant today. Where are we anyway?'
But tell me... when will my life begin?
'She never leaves, does she. Who are you?' Harry makes his way a few feet behind the mysterious maiden and says out loud not noticing the gold light engulfing him and making him visible. "You should be able to leave this tower and explore." Her eyes widen and she quickly turns around to see him and screams. The glittery display that was showcased earlier quickly disappears with her somber attitude. Now all emotion her eyes, her captivating eyes hold are fear with light blush signaling her embarrassment. She starts to back up into the kitchen area, grasping the counter for something.
"Who are you?" Her voice trembles. Harry raises his hands as he means no harm, but apparently his movements were too fast because as soon as he puts his hands up she grabs a pan and hits him across the face. Or at least it was supposed to hit him in the face.
Harry wakes with a jolt and panting.
"You okay, son." James looks down at his son. His clothes are a mess and little huffs of breath make an appearance as James had run to his room when he felt something was wrong that night. "Was it another nightmare? Anything to do with Voldemort?"
"You saw him too Pascal, right?" Pascal nods at her in affirmation. The blonde hair beauty watches the gold dust settle to the floor. "Who are you?" She whispers, to a spot that used to occupy a mysterious man.