The Fourth Dimension: Blink

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The Fourth Dimension: Blink

by Allizarin Sylvain Phyre

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Prologue: An End, and a Beginning

Harry James Potter was not happy. Not in the least. Someone up there must really have a strong dislike for him, because not a thing had gone right the past month. Nothing. None. Zip. Zero. Not one blasted thing!

It didn't help that he had a major migraine at the moment, and felt drained of almost all his strength; enough that he was near fainting. There were three people in front of him whispering to one another in conference, as though Harry didn't exist, a fact that had him grinding his jaws together. He didn't like being ignored, never had. He certainly didn't like being in a spotlight, but neither did he like being ignored. It just irked him. And there was nothing he could do about it. Which made everything even worse.

He could only clench his teeth together to keep from yawning as he watched them confer, as they had been doing for hours, leaving him both bored and tired. He almost wanted to scream at them in fury and demand to be released--but didn't. He highly doubted that they would allow him to go free until they figured him out. Which they wouldn't.

Not if he didn't want them to.

There was that itch on his back that brought him out of his thoughts, a terrible itch that didn't seem to go away. He tried to inconspicuously rub his back against the chair, but stopped the moment one of his guards jabbed him with a wand. That was another point that pricked at his irritation. Kept from freshening up for nearly two days, he felt almost sickened from the smell wafting from his own body. Sticky and hot, trapped in a stinking and stuffy dungeon in the middle of summer for days until now, did nothing to improve his temper.

Merlin, did these people never hear about prisoner rights?

Come to think of it, neither had he, but that was beside the point. Even worse was having two amateur idiots digging their wands into his back in order to keep him from "escaping." Right. As though the two-feet thick cement walls with a half-foot of solid lead and the steel doors couldn't keep him in--not to mention the wards woven into all four walls, including ceiling and floor. (Well, now that Harry thought about it, he realized that no, they couldn't really keep him from escaping, but they didn't know that!). Besides, any fool with a brain could disarm either of those two idiots! Harry didn't know whether to feel insulted that the people before him saw him as such a little threat, or happy that he had a way to escape if need arose. Really, it was embarrassing!

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and snapped his jaws together to keep from yawning. Again. Turning his gaze back to the three sitting opposite him, across the wooden table in the middle of the interrogation cell, Harry sighed inwardly once more. If only he hadn't lost his second sight! That blasted thing kept slipping out of his control every few hours. Certainly less than it had before, and he did see farther out, but keeping it up for hours was exhausting--and he was too tired to call on it now.

What a bloody mess!

Without second sight, Harry knew that there was no way of escaping silently without causing havoc. Without his powers as a Seer he wouldn't be able to sneak out! He was bloody blind at the moment! It was as though someone had placed a blindfold over his eyes.

Abruptly he realized that three had stopped whispering in those irritating hisses and were watching him carefully, and he tried as best he could not to freeze up. Like birds regarding their prey, three pairs of sharp eyes stared at Harry. He couldn't help but smirk at them, which cause the man in the far left to narrow his eyes in suspicion.

Really, Harry thought to himself, it was just too easy manipulating that man. And without second sight too.

"We have decided," said the woman sitting directly in front of Harry. Her voice was cool and yet musical. Unruffled. Calm. Betraying nothing. Harry watched her eyes, brilliant green, that met his gaze unflinchingly.

Beside her, another man with messy black hair spoke, his voice hard and with hidden steel. Smoothly--allowing Harry no chance to interrupt. "You will be taken from the dungeon and will be given a room. You will remain under guard, however, until such a time comes when we decide that you are trustworthy. Until then, you will be restricted to only a few select areas, where your guards will keep watch and enforce your restrictions if need be. They will watch you everywhere. You will be given no privacy. If it turns out that what you say is true, we will give you our most humble apologies; but until that time you will be kept under our careful watch. See to it that you do not break any of our laws."

Harry began. "Perhaps you don't under--"

The woman smoothly cut in, her cool voice continuing on from where the man left off, as though Harry had not spoken. Harry nearly clucked his tongue with irritation. The woman's cool tone didn't allow for him to interrupt, and he listened as she spoke. "We cannot believe your story without proof, but I will assure you that our researchers will be looking for evidence to verify your tale." That itch again! Why wouldn't it leave him alone? It almost made him frown.

As the woman paused for a breath, Harry tried to get a word in. "I do remember telling you that--"

But the woman went on, ignoring him. Smoothly. Cool. Musical. Her tone was light, and detached--as though they were speaking of nothing important, as though she were commenting on the weather. A fire-breathing dragon wouldn't faze her. "You tell us it was in a prophecy made by Merlin. Very well, that is where we will search. Know that we will do everything in our power to find out if this phenomenon you have told us is true. Understand, however, that until such evidence is in our hands, we cannot afford to trust you yet. Although there is little possibility of your tale being but a fabrication, because of the current situation with the Dark Lord we will not endanger the millions abiding here."

The man with the narrowed eyes continued, a spark of flame dancing in his eyes, as though knowing Harry would attempt to speak, and waiting for the chance to interrupt him. Which, of course, stopped Harry from doing just that--to spite the man by refusing to allow him the pleasure of interrupting Harry. Harry saw the fire in the man's eyes dim ever so slightly when he realized that Harry would not attempt to speak, and with a sneer the man spoke. "Already you have been treated better than most other prisoners brought here, and will continue to be treated well--until time comes when we can prove your tale false," he paused for a breath, then added after a moment, and a touch reluctantly, "or true." Hate sparked in those eyes. "But if we find out that you are in fact a Death Eater, we will show you no mercy. Pray that our researchers find this prophecy of yours."

The woman gently laid a hand on his arm, and he quieted. Her light and yet cool voice spoke once more. Smooth. It was almost as though they had practiced. Each continued effortlessly from where the other left off. Harry was amazed. And itchy. "Your presence has been already announced to the people, do not be surprised if some act towards you with suspicion and hostility. Many here have lost someone they have loved. Give it time, and if what you say is true, that phase will pass quickly. Go now, Lucas and Martin will lead you to your room. Be sure to cause no trouble. Give respect to all, and you will receive respect in return."

Then all three rose fluently, leaving without another word before Harry could say anything. Their faces blank and still not showing anything; except the man with the narrowed eyes; his eyes sparked with contempt. The two others were void of emotion, nothing but a calm serenity--though Harry could have sworn he saw a flicker of emotion pass through the woman's eyes. What was it? It passed too quickly for Harry to decipher.

"Up," snarled one of the two guards. Martin? Or Lucas? Whoever it was, he poked Harry in the back. "We're not going to wait on you forever, boy."

Harry nearly hissed, almost losing his temper, but managed, barely, to keep his cool. "I am getting up now," he said. Cool and in control. Good. He had never once shown his true emotions during the whole interview. Not once. And he was not about to lose his control now, especially to these two fools. He had learned control the hard way. It had cost him much.

Hermione... Ron... Albus... Sirius... And Luna...

Harry tried as best he could to walk up the stairs, but being in a cramped cell for two days hadn't helped him at all. So he finally acquiesced and allowed one of the two fools to support him as he went on and on towards his room. Once again Harry wondered how things had gotten this bad. Merlin, someone up there must really hate me, to put me into such misery. He turned his thoughts to the three people that interviewed him. Anger burned.

How dare they?

Restricting him! Placing him under watch? Did they truly dare! But they would learn, Harry calmed. Once they read the prophecy. They would all see. He was Harry James Potter, after all... even if they didn't know. No, he had not told them. He could not afford to. He had seen so. Once more those crystal green eyes of the woman popped into Harry's head.

Lily Evans-Potter. His mother.

The narrowed eyes of the sneering man replaced his mother's eyes.

Sirius Black. His godfather.

The harsh and cold voice of the other man. The steel in his words.

James Potter. His father.

All three faces were etched into his mind.

How did things come to this? wondered Harry again to himself. How did things get so bad? How had he miscalculated so much? How! It had all begun the summer after Fifth Year. That was when things started to happen. The temporary dormancy of his powers had ended, blooming into existence--a power that was meant to mature slowly from birth had grown almost exponentially, as though trying to catch up for all those years, almost killing him. Much too powerful to grow accustomed to so soon.

Harry went down another hall, his mind far, far into the past. Live life to the fullest, Harry, and do what you can in the present. Never lose hope, but never rely on the future. Remember, there isn't always a tomorrow. Percy's voice. Before he was captured. Before he had been stoned. To death. Remember the past and learn what you can from it--but don't forget the present. David's words. The night before he was murdered. And David was right. Harry couldn't afford to get lost in the past like that. There were things happening that were beyond him, and he had to tough it out--not get lost in the tangle he called his life. Shoving the memories away, Harry tried to forget--

But one voice managed to cut through.

The past guides us, young Potter--as does the future... The future can change the past, even though the past is the footsteps leading up to the future... To forget one's past is like wandering away from the road and getting lost in the desert. Never forget your past, Harry... It will guide you home one day.

Harry stumbled on the smooth stone floor, startled. He hadn't heard that voice in a long time. Lirefia Solinar. His mistress. He could imagine her standing beside him, giving him the comfort he didn't get from anyone other than Luna. She was the mother he never had. She was the one who taught him much of what he knew of his power. His gift.

His curse.

The Fourth Dimension.

He could imagine her holding his hand, telling him everything would be all right. He could imagine her soft voice soothe away his fears. And he remembered that day. He had turned his back on her that day. And he would never forgive himself.

Fia.

Harry glanced at his two guards, and looked ahead. He knew that he was still far from his new room. He didn't need the power to know that. With a last sigh at the hopelessness of it all, Harry finally allowed his mind's wall to collapse... and a swirl of dark memories showered down on him... a powerful wave of emotions engulfing him...

The Hall of Sorcery...
Fudge...
Percy...
Skeeter... seer... gifted...
cursed... Renyard...
power... Tonks... Remus...
Dudley...
Elissa...
Vicki...
David...
Time Turner.. Department of Mysteries.. the Veil.. Frankhurt..
Snape.. Hermione.. Ron.. Neville.. Luna.. Luna Lovegood.. The Quibbler.. Fleur.. Krum.. Quidditch.. Shacklebolt. Voldemort. Death Eaters. Malfoy. Draco. Lucius. Grimmauld Place. the Firebolt. Knockturn Alley. Dementors. Prongs. Moony Wormtail Lestrange Bellatrix Hagrid   Grawp Trelawney the Defense Association Moody Flitwick Hogwarts the Prophecy the Second Sight the future the past Weasleys
theOrderofthePhoenixFawkesTheFourthDimensionTime
Blink...

... and Harry remembered...

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To be continued….

Chapter One: A Stirring of Power will be updated whenever I feel like it--though reviews help make me "feel like it." So take the hint, spend a minute and review! A simple, “Wonderful!” or a “Love it!” will do! Even simple messages like that inspire authors to write more!

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Dover Beach

The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; — on the French cost the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness….

(… the first stanza of the poem….)

--Matthew Arnold, 19th Century Poet

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