In response to this soul deep wish his magic had gone haywire somewhat, grasping the blood wards and draining them to further power Harry's own magic, shattering something inside of him at the same time to hurl him further away from his starting point. But this was magic, and magic was tricky. So he was transported much, much further than anyone would ever have expected.
Magic was not as easy as even practiced practitioners thought however, there was always a price, and regardless of the wished powering the barely formed magic, Harry should have died, the magic sucking him dry just like the wards. Yet there was more than just Harry involved, more than just his inbuilt magic, or even the magic of the blood wards. There was also the power of prophecy, not just one prophecy, but many. Not just on earth, but several others, some darker, some lighter.
The Powers-That-Be rarely involved themselves in the doings of mortals, no matter how powerful. Prophecies were how they tried to shape those mortals' steps, and they did even that very rarely. Primarily because it was like setting a small stone loose onto a gigantic pond, you could never predict how the ripples would move, effecting one another and the water around them in unusual ways. Yet sometimes, there came a chance to change things that was just too good to pass up. So it was now.
And in Harry's case there was also something else there to be taken. Something else to balance the scales and allow him, if he so choose to return to life. But even then, he had to be given the choice.
Harry woke to a feeling of someone running their fingers through his hair gently. There was someone humming softly nearby while his head was laying on something soft and warm. He had never felt the like before. No one had ever touched him like this except for a few of the teachers occasionally. He opened his eyes quickly, trying to get away, but found his body wouldn't obey his commands.
Even so the humming stopped and a gentle hand touched his cheek. "Easy Harry,"said a female voice. "Don't move just yet." The voice sounded scratchy with disuse, yet there was also something in it that told Harry that the user had been crying.
With great effort, Harry opened his eyes and looked up into a young woman's face. She looked in her early 20's, if that. Her face was gorgeous, better looking than any woman he'd ever seen outside TV shows, though he'd be at a loss as to explain why. She had red hair cascading down her shoulders and emerald green eyes, a shade that Harry had only previously seen in the mirror, though on the woman they were red rimmed and tear-streaked. The woman's face looked as if she had been dealing with tremendous grief for years, and the smile she wore as she stared down at Harry was happy, yet fragile and almost scared.
Harry didn't understand why she would be scared of him. "Who…" he paused faltering as his eyes locked on hers."I, I know you…" he said, trying to lift a hand to touch the woman's face. He wasn't even able to lift his hand more than an inch, but somehow the woman guessed what he wanted and reached down, picking up his hand from where it had been flopping and brought it to her cheek, nuzzling into his palm. "I know you..." he said again, his fingers twitching against her cheek."But, but how?"
"I'm your mother Harry, Lily, Lily Potter nee Evans." The woman said softly watching him with trepidation. She feared that he would immediately flinch away from her, reject her because of the life he had led.
But Lily needn't have worried. For all the hate he had seen in his life, for all the loathing and fear and disgust that the Dursleys he aped on him, Harry had only wanted one thing: to be loved. And that was the emotion he saw in this woman's face as she stared down at him in, he was slowly realizing, her lap. His own eyes began to brim with tears not of sadness but joy."M, mum?"
With a cry the woman leaned down, burying her head into his chest as her arms went around him where he lay on her lap. Harry tried his best to return the hug, but he was so weak! This was 60 or 70 times worse than the first time he tried to change how his clothes looked. But even so, Harry was too happy to care he couldn't move, simply basking in one of his dreams come to life all around him.
The moment was too emotional to last, and yet it lasted more than long enough for Harry, who was beaming up at the woman through his own tears. "But, but how! Petunia said you died in a car crash! How did you really die? I know that isn't how, but why, I mean…"
"Calmly Harry." Lily replied, leaning back up and staring off into the distance for a moment before she turned to look down at him again, a widesmile on her face now that her son had accepted her. "There is so much I need to tell you! I don't know how long we have though. I've been allowed back to talk to you because of what you did and because of… of other things. You see there is a prophecy, there was a prophecy before you were even born about…"
Lily paused shaking her head. "No, that's not the way the right place to start. Your father and I were magic users Harry as you've discovered."Suddenly the smile on her face widened into a grin of pure joy as she reached down hugging him again pulling him up so that his head rested against her chest rather than in her lap. "My little scientist, I was so proud of you when you began your experiments!"
Harry blushed a little, both in pleasure and embarrassment. His mother was a very good-looking woman after all, and though he hadn't actually noticed it before she was wearing some kind of skintight leotard thing, but all in white. Weird.