Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Burst Reality
Burst Reality
Chapter I
Time in the Void of Fate
White…
Everywhere he turned - nothing but an empty void of white. It was not even white mist as one might expect. It was just a void of white space, empty nothingness.
It was the purest of white he had ever lay witness, like clouds of purity, yet it was not bright. He could look at it clearly, and could see its beauty deep in its depths. It was surprising as it calmed his fears and made him feel at peace, where he was complete. He looked as far as he could see though the beauty. The void seemed to go on forever, and he loved that about this place.
He had seen the void many times before. It was a peaceful place and he loved it. Sometimes if he was lucky, he would see flashes, just brief glimpses. He saw a girl most, sweet and nice, gentle and kind. He could never clearly see her features but he knew one thing. He wishes he could really have a friend like her.
It was nice to be away from his so-called family, but he could never stay in this dream. Is it wrong for him to want to stay within his own near blank mind than suffer the indignity of his families' cruelty? Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, he can't honestly tell anymore.
Is it wrong to wish for something more than people who hate him? He doesn't think so, but then he's always felt like there was something more for him, something greater. If the world has any mercy for him, just a little then why can't he be set free from his troubles? If only just a little, a little would do fine in his books.
He looked around at the swirling clouds and wisps of nothing but white. The void, a place where nothing seems to exist, yet everything seemed to exist all at the same time. He wondered whether this is the beginning and the end all rolled into one.
This place never seemed to hold time. He could be here for what seemed like hours, months, or even years. He loved this dream away from everything and yet he hated being alone.
This is the only place he ever felt safe. It's as if time is only a figment of realities imagination here so he's free to sit and relax. He took in his surroundings and breathed in the air free of them! How could he call people like that family when family are supposed to protect each other, but all he wants to do is punish them the same way they punish him, only a lot worse.
He scratched his bare chest, and then tightened his oversized pajama bottoms that had started slipping off his small form. He was just grateful that wherever he was it is not cold and never is. Though, it's not exactly warm either, more like, just right.
He wished he could dream of northing but white all the time, but his life was not that simple, far from it. He was just the useless freak of the family. They call him a burden, yet he's the one they force to do everything they're too lazy to do, and he does it without complaint. If he didn't he would get a beating from his uncle.
He doesn't know why he's a burden or why he's treated so badly, and he wouldn't want to ask, not again. Asking his aunt or uncle anything can net him some seriously painful injuries. He doesn't like being hurt, so he just stopped asking questions.
The young boy sighed. He wished something interesting would happen as long as it doesn't involve his 'relatives'. It would be nice to see that girl again. Maybe the mist of white will let him see her more clearly. He's sure she's nice and pretty but he still couldn't even tell her hair or eye colour.
He had been standing in the void for what felt like months or possibly years. His mind had wondered everywhere. He even began to think about the odd things that sometimes happen around him. The mystical oddities… it would explain his aunt and uncles hate.
They called him freak so much that when he was younger he thought that was his name. It was only when they were forced to send him to school that he realised that was an insult. He didn't care too much after that as school became his escape from them.
School was fun for only one reason. He could deal with his cousin easily. The fat boy was by no means able to keep up with him. He is so much faster than he is. He's had plenty of practice fleeing bullies that even his cousins moronic followers couldn't keep up. Though, sometimes he feels as if he gets help from somewhere.
He has to wonder sometimes. How can one life be so fraught with heartache? Is it too much to ask that he has a nice loving family. He has watched other families, and he can tell that children and parents or guardians are supposed to have some kind of affection for each other, but not his.
His wishes were always unanswered. He just wished repeatedly sometimes that a long lost relative would come along and take him away. Then he would be loved and cared for, but no. That's too good for him. He obviously isn't worth such good luck.
He has heard about people called social services that are supposed to help children like him, but again, no. He isn't lucky enough to be taken away into a care home. They would probably believe all of the lies spread about him being a lying troublemaker.
The odd thing is, everybody seems to believe he's trouble without any proof. It's a sign that they believe because you dress in old raggy hand-me-downs that are ten sizes too big because they belonged to your cousin that you're trouble.
He doesn't want to wear his cousins old rags any more than anyone wants to see him wearing them. He sometimes wonders whether people are under a spell not to question his 'relatives'.
It was with a sigh that he cried out in shock as his PJ's just burst away leaving him naked before he dropped to his knees screaming in pain. He grabbed his left arm as black flames licked over it, painting some markings up to his shoulder and around his back.
He could see the markings burning onto his face, his cheeks and forehead. They were like spiraling beasts as the white became reflective. The black flames burning over his body was joined by white fire, burning markings in white. Though it wasn't one side white and another black, they both merged on either side in different areas, and different pictations.
It was as if a tattooed sketch of a boom of everything was being marked on his body. Then with another loud roar of pain, the electric-blue flames sucked him in swallowing his body, but he could tell that it was marking him between the white and black.
The pain was something that he didn't quite know how to describe. It was like death and life, the underworld and heaven. It was as if he was experiencing a great rebirth and then death again.
He felt like he was being cut open with the sharpest of blades.
Ice, from the coldest areas of the Earth burning into his soft skin, his throat was burning as his screams reached higher volumes, engulfed in flames; the roaring blue, black, and white, each fighting for dominance.
Fire, from the deepest volcanoes, like the magma was crawling along his skin; working itself in a pattern like thin but deadly burning snakes, slithering. Even over his screams, he could hear the hisses, mocking him.
He felt like he had been hit by lightning, then he felt a soft comforting feeling run through his skin that made him stop screaming. He was breathing deeply and had tears in his eyes.
The pain had gone like a ray of sunshine warming his skin. It was soft and gentle and left him with no aches. He could still see his reflection in the clouds and as the markings on his body faded so did the reflective white.
Taking a deep breath, he stood up slowly, staggering a little. He wiped the tears from his eyes on the back of his hand. It took him a few shaky and deep breaths to calm down.
"Happy Birthday Harry-!"
He was startled by the two voices. One voice was male and the other female. He tuned in surprise, not the least concerned about nakedness, and hadn't noticed the new white PJ's he's wearing.
Two people stood before him. They were a man and a woman, and both of them are stunning, maybe in their thirties. They were both glowing faint and wearing beautiful white silk robes with smiles aimed at him.
They both have flowing silver hair, the man's short and the woman's long. Their eyes sparkled gold and silver as if they couldn't decide which looks better. He had never seen other people in his dreams before, and this was a change he wasn't sure he is ready for.
He could tell that his life was about to change.
Just looking at these two marvelous people he knew his world was finally different, new even. He couldn't tear his eyes away from these people, and didn't know why. It was almost as if they blended with the background, but they're there, and it felt like they've always been there.
"I am Tempus," the man suddenly spoke with an aged power-rumbling deep within his being, his voice. It almost made Harry feel the need to drop to his knees and bow. "And this is Realitas," he added gesturing to his smiling companion.
She nodded her greeting. "It's nice to meet you, sweet little Harry," she said sounding amused, her voice also carrying that same aged power, but it was much lighter.
The man, Tempus gave her an annoyed look that only made her look more amused than anything did. She actually blew him a kiss and his smile returned as if that's all it takes her to make him happy.
"We are of time and reality," the woman said after a few moments. "Together, I suppose we are Sortis, we have come to send you forward on your path. It is time…"
"Sortis…?" Harry asked, interrupting before he could think. He had half expected them to be angry, not laugh as if they had forgotten something.
"The word is Latin," Realitas said with an amused smile. "It means fate. I am reality while my other half is time, and together I suppose we are fate."
"I-I don't think I understand," Harry said looking even more confused. "Do you mean you're like god or something?"
"God…?" Tempus asked sounding amused while Harry nodded uncertainly. "I suppose in a way we are gods… with the S, plural, as in more than one," he said in amusement. It sounded like he might have answered that one before. "There are many things in the universes that you have yet to understand, Harry, and over time I believe you will."
Harry ruffled his right hand confusedly through his short black hair looking baffled. His emerald green eyes locking with their gold and silver looked passed confused.
"Umm… then what do you want with me?" he asked. "I-I don't mean to be rude but I'm just Harry. I'm just a nobody. You can ask my aunt and uncle if you don't believe me."
Realitas scowled while Tempus laughed. "Don't be silly kid," he said still looking amused. "The greatest heroes in all of existence think they're just normal or worse than normal, yet when it comes down to it they all pull through. But you… you're going to be more than just a hero-."
"You and another with become legends throughout existence," Realitas said smirking at his shocked and confused look. "You, with your greatest love will walk the path of Fate, and become the god and goddess of heroes, the Gods of Fate."
"I-I don't understand… how can I do that?" Harry asked looking scared and worried. "I-I don't have any special powers. I'm just Harry Potter, a normal-."
"Freak…?" Tempus asked laughing as Harry stopped and started. "Yes, you know. The odd things that have happened that get your aunt and uncle angrier with you. That is your powers, your natural magic coming forward. And now with the branding, the universe has gifted you with life and the power over time and reality."
"I-I… do you mean those marks…?" he asked baffled and hoping he's not sounding stupid in the presence of two gods.
"Yep," Realitas agreed proudly. "They are the branding of your true power, your godly power so to speak."
"That's not to say you are completely immortal now," Tempus said with a smug grin, as Harry looked flabbergasted. "It just means poisons, and aging shall mean nothing to you. Though, there could be some poisons that still make you feel like crap for a while, but other than that, you can no longer get sick-."
"You will always get stronger," Realitas added. "Time will always be on your side. You can travel to worlds similar to yours or you can travel to worlds completely different. You can travel into the past or the future. Fate will no longer be affected by time or reality-."
"But that doesn't mean you should screw with everyone's timelines," Tempus agreed. "But that doesn't mean you can't help people. You and she shall become the Heroes of Heroes, the Guiders of Heroes, and the Gods of Destiny and Fate. But ultimately you shall both find your own paths."
"There are some limitations to your power for now. This limits will decrease as you grow," Realitas said sounding whimsical. "You will only be able to travel from one reality to the next after seventy two real hours of using that power. It needs time to recharge. As for stopping time, reversing it or pushing it forward. These take a lot of magical power, so grow stronger so turning back an hour doesn't make you pass out."
"Then there is time travel," Tempus added. "It can be hazardous, but is easier than controlling time around you. It also draws quite the power from you depending how far you travel."
"O-K," he answered, filing these little details. He supposes having restrictions is logical or he could use all his power and hurt himself or worse die alone somewhere. "W-wait… what do you mean by magic. Is all of this magic because loads of weird things, and why-."
"Yes," Tempus agreed with a sigh. "Your aunt and uncle call you a freak because they know about your magic. They just don't know you're so much more than a mere sorcerer."
"T-they know, but how?" he asked confused and frightened. He could believe that. It explained so much about all of the weird things in his life.
Tempus sighed and shrugged. "Because your mother was what is called a muggle-born witch. Muggle is a word magical people use for non-magical, not that we care about someone's birth-blood. Your aunt was jealous because she couldn't go to Hogwarts, a magical school for children aged eleven and up because she has no magic.
"She grew bitter over time, and then convinced herself, and then her husband over time that magic is freakish and not normal. So eventually they took on the ancient burn them and don't care about the truth mentality of the past. It has never really been about fear but jealousy, which brings about hate."
"Oh," he said sadly and for once in his life felt a little, just a little sorry for his aunt and uncle. "T-then, what happened to my parents? They didn't die in a car crash did they?"
"No-," Realitas said looking bad for him.
"They were murdered," Tempus agreed. "There was… is this man. He used to be Tom Marvolo Riddle, but he became the Dark Lord Voldemort. He had a lot of potential, but nobody cared enough to nurture that. He was bullied by muggles at a muggle orphanage because he was odd, different. He had quite the grasp on magic even then.
"He started using what little power he had to torment his tormenters. Then Dumbledore, then the deputy head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, now head invited him to Hogwarts. Now when you meet Dumbledore, don't take him at face value. In his own way, he's a good man, but he is also very controlling and quite naïve among other things. I have little doubt he saw the darkness in Tom, but he let the boy be independent, lost without any real guidance."
"They all probably regret that," Realitas interrupted.
"Then when Riddle went to school, well, that was it," Tempus continued. "He had nobody, and hadn't known any kindness, and sometimes that can hurt more than anything. Over the decades, he finally came out as the Dark Lord Voldemort, a terrorist with his terrorist faction called Death Eaters. These are purists who want to enslave the muggles and imprison or kill muggle-borns in their hate."
"These purists don't understand that they are only hurting themselves in the long run," Realitas said sadly. "They're continually breeding in the family, and that is damaging their DNA. It just causes them to give birth to more squibs than mage," she said and then adding as she read his question coming. "Squib is a magical world term for muggle born from wizard and witch."
"W-why did Voldemort k-kill my parents though?" he asked looking concerned.
Tempus let out a soft breath. "There was a silly prophecy made before your birth. Do you wish to hear it?"
Harry gulped and prepared himself for more bad news. Though, he supposes the powers aren't really bad, but his destiny sounded too confusing to know for sure whether that's bad or not yet.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ..." Realitas decided to get it over with. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
Harry frowned in thought. It didn't sound very impressive but then he realised something. "Tom Riddle came to murder me didn't he?"
"Yes," Tempus agreed nodding. "However, he was unable because of Destiny and Fate hold you. It is different in other worlds. This prophecy does not hold any power over you. But he came for you all the same, and it cost him his body. He now drifts as little more than a specter."
"T-that's it?" he asked, confused more than ever as he rubbed the tiny, near invisible thin white mark on his forehead. "This scar is the mark, right…?"
"It was the mark trying to stick, but it didn't," Realitas said. "The mark could not take hold of someone who lived outside of the fundamental parameters of time and space. You have always lived outside of the realms of prophets."
"Oh," he replied thoughtfully. "T-then who's going to defeat this Voldemort guy?" he asked reasonably.
"Why not you?" asked Tempus, amused. "You heard it yourself; you live outside of the realms of prophets, so the prophecy cannot do anything to stop you. It was probably just a fluke that Voldemort survived."
"So, umm… Mr. Tempus, Miss. Realitas, is there any good news?" he asked the two hopefully.
"Trust us," Realitas said with a wide grin. "You'll come to realise this is good news."
"It is?"
"Yes, it is."
"Although prophecies do not affect you, they do affect the world you're on," Tempus added. "There was another prophecy made on the day of your birth, the exact moment actually."
"W-what does it say?"
"Two, gods of time and worlds…" Realitas recited the second prophecy. "Together they shall burst realities and save the worlds. Homes shall be with each other, and life shall be their call … they shall guide eternal through time and space … with family everywhere and nowhere, this god and goddess will forge existence and hope will be their heart… beware those who seek a hero, because heroes can never be tamed."
"Whoa, that's a little more cryptic," Harry said chuckling nervously.
They both shrugged while letting him have a few moments to think about the prophecy. It doesn't try to force him or this girl into doing anything, but it sounds strangely like a warning to others rather than anything about him having to kill someone or something like the first.
"Umm… so, who is this girl you keep mention?" he asked hopeful. "Is she the one who I can't quite see in the white fog?"
"Yes," Realitas said smilingly. "But we cannot tell you who she is; just know she will be very special to you. You will meet her when you return to this world."
"W-what do you mean?" he asked, now concerned. "Where a-am I-I going…?"
"Don't worry, kid," Tempus piped in actually looking amused. "You'll find your place very soon, I promise."
Harry couldn't help but relax and feel assured. "So… um… has anyone else heard these prophecies?" he asked as it was the only thing to pop into his head.
"Yes, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Realitas said rolling her eyes. "You'll return to start school there in the future. I don't think he's all bad… well not like some," she chuckled at that. "He heard both prophecies, but only knows the first talks of you. The second he doesn't have a clue about who it could refer. It scares him."
"You should always be wary of Albus Dumbledore," Tempus added. "He can be tricky and try to make you think he's just a kindly old man, but he is dangerous, and can be highly delusional, and that goes for every version of him. I wouldn't even trust the versions of him that haven't screwed up-."
"The rest are answers we leave for you to discover," Realitas interrupted. "If we told you every last secret in the world your lives would be too easy and boring. You're both smart, cunning, loyal, and courageous, so we know you will do the universes proud."
"Shortly Harry Potter, you shall learn," Tempus said laughing as the white void around him and the two deities started fading to complete nothingness. "You shall learn that you have a great time ahead of you full of family, and hope!"
Then this world was gone…
To Be Continued…
Chapter I
Time in the Void of Fate
White…
Everywhere he turned - nothing but an empty void of white. It was not even white mist as one might expect. It was just a void of white space, empty nothingness.
It was the purest of white he had ever lay witness, like clouds of purity, yet it was not bright. He could look at it clearly, and could see its beauty deep in its depths. It was surprising as it calmed his fears and made him feel at peace, where he was complete. He looked as far as he could see though the beauty. The void seemed to go on forever, and he loved that about this place.
He had seen the void many times before. It was a peaceful place and he loved it. Sometimes if he was lucky, he would see flashes, just brief glimpses. He saw a girl most, sweet and nice, gentle and kind. He could never clearly see her features but he knew one thing. He wishes he could really have a friend like her.
It was nice to be away from his so-called family, but he could never stay in this dream. Is it wrong for him to want to stay within his own near blank mind than suffer the indignity of his families' cruelty? Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, he can't honestly tell anymore.
Is it wrong to wish for something more than people who hate him? He doesn't think so, but then he's always felt like there was something more for him, something greater. If the world has any mercy for him, just a little then why can't he be set free from his troubles? If only just a little, a little would do fine in his books.
He looked around at the swirling clouds and wisps of nothing but white. The void, a place where nothing seems to exist, yet everything seemed to exist all at the same time. He wondered whether this is the beginning and the end all rolled into one.
This place never seemed to hold time. He could be here for what seemed like hours, months, or even years. He loved this dream away from everything and yet he hated being alone.
This is the only place he ever felt safe. It's as if time is only a figment of realities imagination here so he's free to sit and relax. He took in his surroundings and breathed in the air free of them! How could he call people like that family when family are supposed to protect each other, but all he wants to do is punish them the same way they punish him, only a lot worse.
He scratched his bare chest, and then tightened his oversized pajama bottoms that had started slipping off his small form. He was just grateful that wherever he was it is not cold and never is. Though, it's not exactly warm either, more like, just right.
He wished he could dream of northing but white all the time, but his life was not that simple, far from it. He was just the useless freak of the family. They call him a burden, yet he's the one they force to do everything they're too lazy to do, and he does it without complaint. If he didn't he would get a beating from his uncle.
He doesn't know why he's a burden or why he's treated so badly, and he wouldn't want to ask, not again. Asking his aunt or uncle anything can net him some seriously painful injuries. He doesn't like being hurt, so he just stopped asking questions.
The young boy sighed. He wished something interesting would happen as long as it doesn't involve his 'relatives'. It would be nice to see that girl again. Maybe the mist of white will let him see her more clearly. He's sure she's nice and pretty but he still couldn't even tell her hair or eye colour.
He had been standing in the void for what felt like months or possibly years. His mind had wondered everywhere. He even began to think about the odd things that sometimes happen around him. The mystical oddities… it would explain his aunt and uncles hate.
They called him freak so much that when he was younger he thought that was his name. It was only when they were forced to send him to school that he realised that was an insult. He didn't care too much after that as school became his escape from them.
School was fun for only one reason. He could deal with his cousin easily. The fat boy was by no means able to keep up with him. He is so much faster than he is. He's had plenty of practice fleeing bullies that even his cousins moronic followers couldn't keep up. Though, sometimes he feels as if he gets help from somewhere.
He has to wonder sometimes. How can one life be so fraught with heartache? Is it too much to ask that he has a nice loving family. He has watched other families, and he can tell that children and parents or guardians are supposed to have some kind of affection for each other, but not his.
His wishes were always unanswered. He just wished repeatedly sometimes that a long lost relative would come along and take him away. Then he would be loved and cared for, but no. That's too good for him. He obviously isn't worth such good luck.
He has heard about people called social services that are supposed to help children like him, but again, no. He isn't lucky enough to be taken away into a care home. They would probably believe all of the lies spread about him being a lying troublemaker.
The odd thing is, everybody seems to believe he's trouble without any proof. It's a sign that they believe because you dress in old raggy hand-me-downs that are ten sizes too big because they belonged to your cousin that you're trouble.
He doesn't want to wear his cousins old rags any more than anyone wants to see him wearing them. He sometimes wonders whether people are under a spell not to question his 'relatives'.
It was with a sigh that he cried out in shock as his PJ's just burst away leaving him naked before he dropped to his knees screaming in pain. He grabbed his left arm as black flames licked over it, painting some markings up to his shoulder and around his back.
He could see the markings burning onto his face, his cheeks and forehead. They were like spiraling beasts as the white became reflective. The black flames burning over his body was joined by white fire, burning markings in white. Though it wasn't one side white and another black, they both merged on either side in different areas, and different pictations.
It was as if a tattooed sketch of a boom of everything was being marked on his body. Then with another loud roar of pain, the electric-blue flames sucked him in swallowing his body, but he could tell that it was marking him between the white and black.
The pain was something that he didn't quite know how to describe. It was like death and life, the underworld and heaven. It was as if he was experiencing a great rebirth and then death again.
He felt like he was being cut open with the sharpest of blades.
Ice, from the coldest areas of the Earth burning into his soft skin, his throat was burning as his screams reached higher volumes, engulfed in flames; the roaring blue, black, and white, each fighting for dominance.
Fire, from the deepest volcanoes, like the magma was crawling along his skin; working itself in a pattern like thin but deadly burning snakes, slithering. Even over his screams, he could hear the hisses, mocking him.
He felt like he had been hit by lightning, then he felt a soft comforting feeling run through his skin that made him stop screaming. He was breathing deeply and had tears in his eyes.
The pain had gone like a ray of sunshine warming his skin. It was soft and gentle and left him with no aches. He could still see his reflection in the clouds and as the markings on his body faded so did the reflective white.
Taking a deep breath, he stood up slowly, staggering a little. He wiped the tears from his eyes on the back of his hand. It took him a few shaky and deep breaths to calm down.
"Happy Birthday Harry-!"
He was startled by the two voices. One voice was male and the other female. He tuned in surprise, not the least concerned about nakedness, and hadn't noticed the new white PJ's he's wearing.
Two people stood before him. They were a man and a woman, and both of them are stunning, maybe in their thirties. They were both glowing faint and wearing beautiful white silk robes with smiles aimed at him.
They both have flowing silver hair, the man's short and the woman's long. Their eyes sparkled gold and silver as if they couldn't decide which looks better. He had never seen other people in his dreams before, and this was a change he wasn't sure he is ready for.
He could tell that his life was about to change.
Just looking at these two marvelous people he knew his world was finally different, new even. He couldn't tear his eyes away from these people, and didn't know why. It was almost as if they blended with the background, but they're there, and it felt like they've always been there.
"I am Tempus," the man suddenly spoke with an aged power-rumbling deep within his being, his voice. It almost made Harry feel the need to drop to his knees and bow. "And this is Realitas," he added gesturing to his smiling companion.
She nodded her greeting. "It's nice to meet you, sweet little Harry," she said sounding amused, her voice also carrying that same aged power, but it was much lighter.
The man, Tempus gave her an annoyed look that only made her look more amused than anything did. She actually blew him a kiss and his smile returned as if that's all it takes her to make him happy.
"We are of time and reality," the woman said after a few moments. "Together, I suppose we are Sortis, we have come to send you forward on your path. It is time…"
"Sortis…?" Harry asked, interrupting before he could think. He had half expected them to be angry, not laugh as if they had forgotten something.
"The word is Latin," Realitas said with an amused smile. "It means fate. I am reality while my other half is time, and together I suppose we are fate."
"I-I don't think I understand," Harry said looking even more confused. "Do you mean you're like god or something?"
"God…?" Tempus asked sounding amused while Harry nodded uncertainly. "I suppose in a way we are gods… with the S, plural, as in more than one," he said in amusement. It sounded like he might have answered that one before. "There are many things in the universes that you have yet to understand, Harry, and over time I believe you will."
Harry ruffled his right hand confusedly through his short black hair looking baffled. His emerald green eyes locking with their gold and silver looked passed confused.
"Umm… then what do you want with me?" he asked. "I-I don't mean to be rude but I'm just Harry. I'm just a nobody. You can ask my aunt and uncle if you don't believe me."
Realitas scowled while Tempus laughed. "Don't be silly kid," he said still looking amused. "The greatest heroes in all of existence think they're just normal or worse than normal, yet when it comes down to it they all pull through. But you… you're going to be more than just a hero-."
"You and another with become legends throughout existence," Realitas said smirking at his shocked and confused look. "You, with your greatest love will walk the path of Fate, and become the god and goddess of heroes, the Gods of Fate."
"I-I don't understand… how can I do that?" Harry asked looking scared and worried. "I-I don't have any special powers. I'm just Harry Potter, a normal-."
"Freak…?" Tempus asked laughing as Harry stopped and started. "Yes, you know. The odd things that have happened that get your aunt and uncle angrier with you. That is your powers, your natural magic coming forward. And now with the branding, the universe has gifted you with life and the power over time and reality."
"I-I… do you mean those marks…?" he asked baffled and hoping he's not sounding stupid in the presence of two gods.
"Yep," Realitas agreed proudly. "They are the branding of your true power, your godly power so to speak."
"That's not to say you are completely immortal now," Tempus said with a smug grin, as Harry looked flabbergasted. "It just means poisons, and aging shall mean nothing to you. Though, there could be some poisons that still make you feel like crap for a while, but other than that, you can no longer get sick-."
"You will always get stronger," Realitas added. "Time will always be on your side. You can travel to worlds similar to yours or you can travel to worlds completely different. You can travel into the past or the future. Fate will no longer be affected by time or reality-."
"But that doesn't mean you should screw with everyone's timelines," Tempus agreed. "But that doesn't mean you can't help people. You and she shall become the Heroes of Heroes, the Guiders of Heroes, and the Gods of Destiny and Fate. But ultimately you shall both find your own paths."
"There are some limitations to your power for now. This limits will decrease as you grow," Realitas said sounding whimsical. "You will only be able to travel from one reality to the next after seventy two real hours of using that power. It needs time to recharge. As for stopping time, reversing it or pushing it forward. These take a lot of magical power, so grow stronger so turning back an hour doesn't make you pass out."
"Then there is time travel," Tempus added. "It can be hazardous, but is easier than controlling time around you. It also draws quite the power from you depending how far you travel."
"O-K," he answered, filing these little details. He supposes having restrictions is logical or he could use all his power and hurt himself or worse die alone somewhere. "W-wait… what do you mean by magic. Is all of this magic because loads of weird things, and why-."
"Yes," Tempus agreed with a sigh. "Your aunt and uncle call you a freak because they know about your magic. They just don't know you're so much more than a mere sorcerer."
"T-they know, but how?" he asked confused and frightened. He could believe that. It explained so much about all of the weird things in his life.
Tempus sighed and shrugged. "Because your mother was what is called a muggle-born witch. Muggle is a word magical people use for non-magical, not that we care about someone's birth-blood. Your aunt was jealous because she couldn't go to Hogwarts, a magical school for children aged eleven and up because she has no magic.
"She grew bitter over time, and then convinced herself, and then her husband over time that magic is freakish and not normal. So eventually they took on the ancient burn them and don't care about the truth mentality of the past. It has never really been about fear but jealousy, which brings about hate."
"Oh," he said sadly and for once in his life felt a little, just a little sorry for his aunt and uncle. "T-then, what happened to my parents? They didn't die in a car crash did they?"
"No-," Realitas said looking bad for him.
"They were murdered," Tempus agreed. "There was… is this man. He used to be Tom Marvolo Riddle, but he became the Dark Lord Voldemort. He had a lot of potential, but nobody cared enough to nurture that. He was bullied by muggles at a muggle orphanage because he was odd, different. He had quite the grasp on magic even then.
"He started using what little power he had to torment his tormenters. Then Dumbledore, then the deputy head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, now head invited him to Hogwarts. Now when you meet Dumbledore, don't take him at face value. In his own way, he's a good man, but he is also very controlling and quite naïve among other things. I have little doubt he saw the darkness in Tom, but he let the boy be independent, lost without any real guidance."
"They all probably regret that," Realitas interrupted.
"Then when Riddle went to school, well, that was it," Tempus continued. "He had nobody, and hadn't known any kindness, and sometimes that can hurt more than anything. Over the decades, he finally came out as the Dark Lord Voldemort, a terrorist with his terrorist faction called Death Eaters. These are purists who want to enslave the muggles and imprison or kill muggle-borns in their hate."
"These purists don't understand that they are only hurting themselves in the long run," Realitas said sadly. "They're continually breeding in the family, and that is damaging their DNA. It just causes them to give birth to more squibs than mage," she said and then adding as she read his question coming. "Squib is a magical world term for muggle born from wizard and witch."
"W-why did Voldemort k-kill my parents though?" he asked looking concerned.
Tempus let out a soft breath. "There was a silly prophecy made before your birth. Do you wish to hear it?"
Harry gulped and prepared himself for more bad news. Though, he supposes the powers aren't really bad, but his destiny sounded too confusing to know for sure whether that's bad or not yet.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ..." Realitas decided to get it over with. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
Harry frowned in thought. It didn't sound very impressive but then he realised something. "Tom Riddle came to murder me didn't he?"
"Yes," Tempus agreed nodding. "However, he was unable because of Destiny and Fate hold you. It is different in other worlds. This prophecy does not hold any power over you. But he came for you all the same, and it cost him his body. He now drifts as little more than a specter."
"T-that's it?" he asked, confused more than ever as he rubbed the tiny, near invisible thin white mark on his forehead. "This scar is the mark, right…?"
"It was the mark trying to stick, but it didn't," Realitas said. "The mark could not take hold of someone who lived outside of the fundamental parameters of time and space. You have always lived outside of the realms of prophets."
"Oh," he replied thoughtfully. "T-then who's going to defeat this Voldemort guy?" he asked reasonably.
"Why not you?" asked Tempus, amused. "You heard it yourself; you live outside of the realms of prophets, so the prophecy cannot do anything to stop you. It was probably just a fluke that Voldemort survived."
"So, umm… Mr. Tempus, Miss. Realitas, is there any good news?" he asked the two hopefully.
"Trust us," Realitas said with a wide grin. "You'll come to realise this is good news."
"It is?"
"Yes, it is."
"Although prophecies do not affect you, they do affect the world you're on," Tempus added. "There was another prophecy made on the day of your birth, the exact moment actually."
"W-what does it say?"
"Two, gods of time and worlds…" Realitas recited the second prophecy. "Together they shall burst realities and save the worlds. Homes shall be with each other, and life shall be their call … they shall guide eternal through time and space … with family everywhere and nowhere, this god and goddess will forge existence and hope will be their heart… beware those who seek a hero, because heroes can never be tamed."
"Whoa, that's a little more cryptic," Harry said chuckling nervously.
They both shrugged while letting him have a few moments to think about the prophecy. It doesn't try to force him or this girl into doing anything, but it sounds strangely like a warning to others rather than anything about him having to kill someone or something like the first.
"Umm… so, who is this girl you keep mention?" he asked hopeful. "Is she the one who I can't quite see in the white fog?"
"Yes," Realitas said smilingly. "But we cannot tell you who she is; just know she will be very special to you. You will meet her when you return to this world."
"W-what do you mean?" he asked, now concerned. "Where a-am I-I going…?"
"Don't worry, kid," Tempus piped in actually looking amused. "You'll find your place very soon, I promise."
Harry couldn't help but relax and feel assured. "So… um… has anyone else heard these prophecies?" he asked as it was the only thing to pop into his head.
"Yes, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Realitas said rolling her eyes. "You'll return to start school there in the future. I don't think he's all bad… well not like some," she chuckled at that. "He heard both prophecies, but only knows the first talks of you. The second he doesn't have a clue about who it could refer. It scares him."
"You should always be wary of Albus Dumbledore," Tempus added. "He can be tricky and try to make you think he's just a kindly old man, but he is dangerous, and can be highly delusional, and that goes for every version of him. I wouldn't even trust the versions of him that haven't screwed up-."
"The rest are answers we leave for you to discover," Realitas interrupted. "If we told you every last secret in the world your lives would be too easy and boring. You're both smart, cunning, loyal, and courageous, so we know you will do the universes proud."
"Shortly Harry Potter, you shall learn," Tempus said laughing as the white void around him and the two deities started fading to complete nothingness. "You shall learn that you have a great time ahead of you full of family, and hope!"
Then this world was gone…
To Be Continued…
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