The Challenge: Albus Severus finds he has been having odd dreams of his mother. Can he keep from acting on them? Length: 600/900 Limit: 30 Minutes

~The Dreams and Fantasies of Albus Severus Potter~

 

The sound of my walking was silent as I crept along the soft and luxuriously carpeted corridor, focusing on the one small strip of light glowing at the bottom of my parent's bedroom door. It was midnight, so the corridor was dark, and I had to hold my hands in front of myself to guide my way, but with that golden line on the horizon I had a goal, and I would reach it. As I walked the seemingly endless hall of our house in Godric's Hollow, sounds reached my ears from underneath the door, their clarity amazing me. A sharp gasp, a low grunt, and the rhythmic rustling of sheets and tap-tap-tap of a bed rocking ever so slightly.

It was clear what my parents were doing, but I walked on nonetheless, not noticing the way the corridor shifted around me, its dimensions grotesque in the moonlight steaming in from the window overlooking the garden. From moment to moment the very shape of the world shifts; the door is within grasping distance, now it's further away than ever, and once again it moves closer, as if I'm drunk on the Firewhisky Ted got me for my sixteenth. Finally, after an infinity of listening to the tempting sounds from beyond the door, the handle is in my hand, and I fling the door open, throwing the world into sharp relief as the bright light from the room bursts out into the corridor, searing my eyes. The sight that I saw was not what I expected.

Sure, my Mum was there on the bed as she should have been, naked: her small pert breasts glistening with sweat and her nipples hard as rock, her back arched to display her lithe body and her brilliant red hair splayed out behind her, framing her face, fixed in an expression of ecstasy. Yet between her legs was not my father as I had seen so many times before, but…me.

And that's when I woke up, sitting up in my bed with a start, gasping for air as I tried to shake the image from my mind, to no avail: I could see it as if I were looking at it at that very moment, it's vividness surprising in its intensity.

Sighing, I slipped out of my bed and stumbled through the dark to my bathroom (only the best for the famous Potters), where I waved my wand at the sink, which promptly sprayed cold water at my face, waking me up properly and finally taking my mother's naked form from my mind, though it still lingered there, waiting for the right moment to return. When I had the first of these dreams, I had been horrified with myself, going so far as to almost attempt to memory charm myself, but now…now, after so many of these dreams, I had got used to them…maybe even enjoy them.

My mother had visited me in my dreams every night for the last year, but now, things had changed. At first, she used to be on her own. Then, my father joined her, and every night they enjoyed each other's bodies. Now, my father's features had morphed into my own, and I was in deep shit. Freud would have a field day. Albus Severus Potter fancied his Mum. It was probably my middle name working against me - it wouldn't surprise me if the name were actually cursed.

It was just as I turned back to go to bed that I heard it: a small knock at my door, so silent that I shouldn't have been able to hear it. Curious, I padded over back through my bedroom to the door and opened it just an inch, to see who was on the other side, but as soon as it was open a little bit the door was wrenched from my grasp and thrust open, to reveal…my mum. My mum in a very sheer nightdress.

“Mum?” I asked, my voice sounding as if I were still half asleep, “what are you doing here? It's almost three o'clo-”

I was interrupted by her petite hand slapping itself over my mouth, preventing any more sound from leaving. Unconsciously my tongue sneaked out to taste her skin - it tasted sweet yet salty to me, like roses dipped in butter. Not that I had ever had roses dipped in butter, or would ever, but you get the idea.

“No talking,” she whispered in my ear, leaning forward so that her breasts pressed against my bare chest. She pushed me back towards the bed, and I let her, sitting down on the edge as she closed the door behind her as silently as she could. Before she turned back to me with a small smile on her face, causing her nose to scrunch up adorably. Looking deeply into my eyes, she slowly dropped one strap of her gown - revealing a shoulder of pale and creamy flesh - and then the other, allowing the transparent dress to fall to the ground around her feet. With that out the way, she rushed towards me with an eagerness that surprised me, and within moments she was on my lap, her legs wrapped around me, her lips on mine as we kissed, all of our passion exploding from our lips.

Mum - Ginny - moaned,  and she pulled away for just a moment to whisper in my ear once more,

“You've been having pleasant dreams, I hope?”

And then she winked at me.

Did she suggest what I thought she suggested?

I guess I'll never know, for at that moment a loud bang echoed throughout the room as the door was blown off its hinges, and there silhouetted in the doorway was my dad - no, not my dad, but the defeater of Voldemort, top auror and legend of the wizarding world. Mum instantly leapt off me and rose as if to walk towards dad, but there was a flash of green light, quicker than I could ever have imagined, and she fell to the ground, dead.

“Bitch,” spat my dad, and then he did spit, right at her body sprawled across my bedroom floor. “I knew marrying her was a mistake.”

And then he turned towards me, and then all I knew was green light.

I hate the name Severus.