Okay, I was sorting through all my old files when I foud this, I started it a while ago and I decided to finish it and post it, just a oneshot you know? Something that popped into my head one day. It's highly unlikely but, oh well.

Dislcaimer- All characters, names, places and such are property of JK Rowling, not me, I'm not that clever.

Dreams

Even before Harry opened his eyes he knew that something was wrong. His body seemed too small, and his clothes seemed too large. It was almost like he was eleven years old again. He slowly opened his eyes, wondering what this strange feeling was from, and all he could see was a slanted ceiling right near his face, almost like when he had to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs before he knew he was a wizard. When it dawned on him where he was he sat up very quickly, banging his head on the ceiling. Cursing and holding his head he put his glasses on, and when he looked down at himself he was shocked. His body was the size of an eleven year olds, this puzzled him, when he had fallen asleep he was sure that he was seventeen. More confused then he had ever been in his life he continued to stare at himself in awe, and no matter how hard he tried to think of a reason for this he couldn't. A loud rapping on the door startled him, and he jumped.

"Get out here now boy!" he heard the shrill voice of Aunt Petunia, " Dudley wants his breakfast!"

Now, things were making even less sense, he was defiantly in the Dursley's house, and the Dursleys were there, even though they shouldn't be there. They had left the previous summer before Harry's seventeenth birthday. Of course, it was probably safe for them to move back in now, but Harry had only defeated Voldemort the previous day, and that still didn't explain his body.

Unable to think of anything else to do, Harry got up and opened the door to the cupboard cautiously. Everything outside of it was the exactly the way it had been when Harry was eleven. Slowly walking, and looking around his surroundings Harry walked to the kitchen. In the kitchen Aunt Petunia, Uncle Dursley and eleven year-old looking Dudley were sitting around the table. Dudlely had a large stack of presents around him, and with a jolt Harry realized that this was exactly the same scene that he had seen on Dudley's eleventh birthday, he was even more confused now. Had he managed to go back in time? He didn't know of anyway to go back in time except using a time turner, and that wouldn't have changed his body shape.

"Well what are you waiting for," Uncle Vernon snapped when he saw him lurking in the doorway "it's Dudley's birthday he is waiting for his breakfast."

Harry stood with his mouth open from shock "What do you mean? Don't you realize what has happened?"

Uncle Vernon looked at him curiously, and said "What is it now?"

"Why am I here now! I should be in Hogwarts! I just defeated Voldemort! How can you just act like there is nothing different about today?"

All three Dursleys had the same half confused, and half shocked expressions on their faces for a moment, until Uncle Vernon's face changed and it started to turn the shade of purple it usually did when he was particularly angry.

"Stop playing bloody games already boy!" Uncle Vernon yelled "That's enough of your nonsense, now Dudley wants his breakfast! It's his birthday and he is going to get it."

"But...but..." Harry stammered, unable to comrehend what was happening, "MAGIC!" he yelled, sure that the use of the 'M' word would set them off, but he was wrong, it did exactly the opposite.

All three of the Dursleys just stared at Harry, wondering what had brought on this bought of strangest, they were simply shocked, and they could not understand what was happening either.

"I am a wizard! What about Hogwarts?" Harry started off, trying to list everything he could that was connected to the magical world "And Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Neville and Luna? And Dumbeldore and Voldemort?" as he continued this he found the memories beginning to fade, as dreams often did the loner that you were awake. Harry's heart sank as he realised the truth, it was a dream, he had dreamt that he had an entire other life, a good life.

Almost unable to believe, and feeling more terrible then he had ever felt, Harry put his head down and went to the kitchen. He pulled the eggs out, and began to cry, rememebering the Weasley's chickens. The memories were beginnning to fade even faster now. The Dursleys were so bewildered by his strange behavior that they didn't speak to him for the rest of the week, but Harry soon returned to normal behaviour, except for his occassional bouts of tears.

Harry never had a dream like this again, but it affected him greatly. During high school, Harry spent all his energy on chasing after a girl named Ginny, but after getting to know her better, he realised that he did not like her at all, and she was nothing like the Ginny in his dream.

Soon after high school Harry discovered music, sure that it was his calling he started a band that became world famous. He called this band "Dumbledore's Army", and in explaination of the name his just said that it came to him in a dream.

He got married at thrity-nine to a woman who was twenty-three that claimed that she loved him, she really did not love him, even though she did particualrly love his money. He did not have any children, and found that he did not like the woman he married so much, but did not want to go through with divorce.

Around the end of his life Harry was to go a little senile. Around the age of seventy he began claiming that ordinary activities where magic, like television being moving photographs. Unsure of what else to do, Harry's wife put him in a nursing home, and never went to visit him again. In the nursing home he continued to claim that things were magic, and he would often shout about people named Voldemort, Hermione, Ron and Ginny, he also shouted "Dumbledore" but most people figured that this simply had to do with his previous band. His case confused doctors, but they did not know about Harry's dream or terrible childhood, because Harry never told them, or anyone else.

Harry dies three years after he is sent to the nursing home, the very same day his widow marries another man.

The last part is stupid, but whatever. I know, I can twist around any happy ending to make it strangley not happy, I'm just cool like that.