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Harry felt as though he had had a very, very long dream—so long that he did not want to wake up.

In that dream, Voldemort had not chosen him as his target, but Neville.

Naturally, though Harry's parents had been targeted by the Death Eaters, Sirius, Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew had protected them, and his whole family had survived safe and sound.

Yes, in the dream, Peter Pettigrew had not betrayed them.

Though he felt somewhat sorry for Neville, everything in the dream had seemed so wonderful to Harry.

He had enjoyed a childhood happy enough to make anyone envious. When he turned eleven, although he no longer bore the much-watched title of the Boy Who Lived, his exceptional talent meant that he had never received any strange looks.

Ron and Hermione were still his best friends, and Draco Malfoy was still as detestable as ever...

Well, not quite that detestable.

Life at Hogwarts had not been completely smooth sailing, but to the Harry of that moment, the fact that his parents, Professor Fawley, Snape, and even Peter Pettigrew were all still alive was already the scene he had most longed to see in his dreams.

"Wake up, Harry! Look who's back!" Ron said excitedly, patting Harry on the head.

Hermione still looked somewhat worried beside them, but since Madam Pomfrey had said Harry was alive, all she could do was watch.

Besides, if she got her hands on him now, she might hit even harder!

With his face aching from the slaps, Harry had no choice but to force a slit open between his eyelids, like when he was too sleepy to keep his eyes open.

"Ron? Ron?!"

Though he was calling Ron's name, what truly made his eyes fly wide in shock were Professor Fawley and Snape, standing