Chapter 1: The Timeless Dreaming

He had started having the dream the day of the roof.

Later that night, as he was reflecting on what could had enabled him to appear on the roof, he was seeing himself again, running from Dudley and his gang, and again there was the same feeling of being picked-up and transported, and the same feeling of landing.

Instead of seeing the same roof, he was in complete darkness.

Then light appeared. Looking down upon himself, he could see his body was completely transparent and his spinal cord and nerves were shining with bright light, allowing him to see about twenty yards around.

Looking around he could see he was indeed on the roof, but something was off, only the part close to where he was standing was in concrete as it should be, further away from him the concrete was blurred and transformed into transparent echo/idea of substance, before being swallowed by surrounding darkness. As he moved, the portion which was concrete moved with him.

He managed to find the metal ladder fixed on the side of the building and get down.

Down on the lawn it was the same as on the roof: the grass close to him was normal, and further it was blurred and transformed into transparent echo/idea of the grass, and then darkness.

He walked to the Dursleys'. It was empty, just like every other house in the street, just like every other house in Little Whinging.

Something was really off with the version of the world he was currently in. He had been there for already several hours, and there was still no sunrise. Also, he felt no hunger, no need to go to the loo, no need to sleep.

He proceeded to check every house in Surrey, they were all empty.

He started walking south, checking houses and other buildings, all empty and ghostlike, until he arrived in Southampton, then turned north and walked to Inverness, then turned south, and so on… Crossing of the ghost world Great Britain for the nth time… What the hell was going on? How would he return? … Complete numbness of his mind…. "There's no place like home, there's no place like home."

"Get up! Get up! It's time you start preparing breakfast!"

At first there was a loud thud from the cupboard, and then the most blood-chilling scream the Dursleays had ever heard. Which earned Harry further punishment to the one he had already received for the roof.

The next night the dream returned, and the night after.

The first few nights he used to thoroughly explore the ghost Earth.

Then he learnt he could create things inside his ball of light, but those things would be erased when returned to darkness and when he woke up.

Then he learnt he could make his ball of light larger, but that required effort of concentration, especially if he wanted it to remain large for long.

And so, the ghost Earth became his playground.

Then came the day of the wand. That night the dream changed, instead of darkness he could see multi-coloured auroras and hear their music, and every night at some point he would start humming this music.

However, the dream continued to be just a dream – there was no ghost Hogwarts or ghost Diagon Ally on ghost Earth.

Until the day of the patronus.

When light and magic burst out of him, there was also music, the same music of the white aurora in his dream.

After that he became more attentive to his dream and learnt the music of all colours.

Then came the dream of Voldemort and that night he had no dream of the ghost Earth, or the night after.

On the next night he closed his eyes and started humming the music of the colours. From the depth of his mind, he could hear an occasional note coming, as if something was trying to repeat the humming he was doing. As he concentrated, he saw light in the darkness of his mind, and as he came closer, he saw the version of himself from the ghost Earth – his brain, spinal cord, nerves, blood and lymphatic streams were shining with bright light.

He concentrated, and as he was humming, the same notes came from his light, and as he changed the song, the colour of his light changed too, to correspond to the colour of the aurora whose song he was humming.

When he completed all colours, the darkness of his mind suddenly got filled with thousands of floating eyes, and an ominous, creepy voice spoke: "I see you…", and an invisible force, like a tidal wave came rushing through him, taking him on the wildest roller-coaster ride imaginable.

His sight was saturated with infinity of colours. His hearing was saturated with white noise. Then the voice spoke again: "Where did you hear the music you sang? There was no living soul to hear this music. It was my first music, from the first world."

"I have moved through infinite forms, and the world has moved with me. Can you sing my new music?"

Whatever this force was, it was running through him with such intensity it was threatening to crush his every atom, to crush his soul to pieces.

He had an utmost conviction that the force had given him a do-or-be-obliterated dare and concentrated his best to hear what music he may. There was only white noise. Then he started having a vision. He was seeing multi-coloured auroras from the ghost Earth and hearing their music. Then around every aurora, tentacles and beams sprung into existence and colours started combining and their music was growing with complexity, finally giving the white noise he was hearing.

He turned his concentration on himself. There were multitude of nodes on his spinal cord, the first one close to his cerebellum, the last one at the height of his testicles. He imagined that each node had specific colour and singing with the music of that colour. The music he was producing started to resemble more and more the white noise.

"Yes, yes, yes, more! …", the force was having an orgasm.

He felt his roller-coaster ride coming to an end. He opened his eyes. He was on the ghost Earth again.

Suddenly, his ball of light burst into infinity, and he could see reality bursting into the ghost world. The grass was green and normal everywhere, all buildings were normal, there were people on streets.

His body was normal and whole. He lowered his eyes and close to his feet was a frozen body of a very underfed baby. He lowered himself with intention to try and help the child, but the voice commanded: "Leave it! It is not of your concern any more…"

He obeyed and stopped, but started moving again, because no matter what the voice ordered it was the right thing to do to help the frozen child, wasn't it?

But before he could do anything, the frozen body burst into snowflakes, and he felt his dream burst too, and felt himself landing on the bed in his room. He looked at his clock, it was only a few minutes after he had started meditating earlier that night.