Shampoo147: I'm sorry about this, but with school, and my new job, i just don't seem to have the time to sit down and write on the computer. I got a C in Psychology and I still have a GPA of over 3.5! BONZAI!
Ayame: WEll, Mittens ran away, Jackie ran away, and now we have Garfield.
Shampoo147: WE didn't name him.
The Explanation
Grey, wasn't it black a moment ago?
Or was it white?
Or was it always gray?
A different color, maybe?
Harry didn't know, and quietly contemplated the mystery of "what color was it before blue?"
Harry didn't know how long he was staring at the colors, five minutes, five days, five years, he couldn't tell, and found that he didn't care.
Harry was contemplating what color had come before red when he felt something, something, real.
He felt a sense of being solid.
It came slowly, maybe quickly, Harry couldn't tell, but he was gaining his senses.
The time came when he was able to feel, but that was all he was sure he had. He could feel his fingers, his toes, his nose, and the rest of his body; they were tingling. He concentrated on flexing his toes and felt them move; he flexed every muscle in his body (that he knew how to flex) and was pleased that he could do this.
He could suddenly smell things, not a very unpleasant smell, or a very pleasant cocktail of aromas. There was freshly cut grass, the musty, stale odor of a neglected cupboard (probably had spiders), and the sharp smell of disinfectants. Startled, he turned (he could move, that was new, or was it old and he just couldn't remember?) and saw a nondescript house, nothing spectacular, nothing dingy. Figuring that since he could turn, he could walk, he willed himself forward and was pleased as he felt his legs, knees, ankles, and feet work together to bring him closer to the house.
As he got to the door, he noted the shiny, brass 4 beside it, the address of whatever street this house is from. He opened the door and stepped in.
The inside of the house was completely the same as the outside, barren, nothing spectacular. There were no paintings, pictures, personal effects, or even carpeting. It was just barren, like a warehouse, and there weren't even any shadows in this place, the edges unobscured.
Hesitantly, Harry began to walk forward, and was drawn to the cupboard in the wall under the stairs.
He stopped, and waited.
Nothing.
Where was his voice?
Gulping, and just now realizing how dependent he had gotten upon the voice, he opened the cupboard door, which had vents installed.
There was nothing in there but a barren cot, very small. Small enough for himself, he noted. Glancing around, he withdrew from the cupboard and closed the door. He glanced up the stairs, having wished this was a movie so he could hear something.
He quietly began to walk up the wooden stairs, pleased (and unnerved) by the unmuffled, 'click, click' of his shoes hitting the floor.
When he got to the top of the stairs, he turned to his right, and opened the door.
The first bit of sensory information that he registered was the dimness, shadows, different lighting. Real lighting.
Then there was the clutter.
This room was filled with old, broken toys, dusty books, a birdcage filled with bird poop, scatters of the Daily Prophet (all with dates have yet to pass, years and years left to go), and a small bed with a man sitting on it, his face in Harry's direction.
Harry stared at the man, he was tall, perhaps 5 ½ to 6 feet, and was wearing black auror robes, complete with the boots. He had black hair, somewhat light, like the sun has damaged it, and had a golden brown tan. His face was covered, not allowing Harry to see much more than a vague outline of a strong jaw and a proud-shaped nose. His hair was like his own, and like his father's, messy, naturally so, not faked . . .
"Hello, Harry." The man said; his voice a rough, forced baritone.
"Hello." Harry replied; a knee jerk reaction.
The man raised his face, allowing Harry to see the details.
Harry uttered a small gasp, stunned . . . this man had his eyes, murkier, jade, not really emerald, but his eyes, none-the-less.
"Sir, are you-are you me?" Harry whispered, politeness coming to him naturally.
The man looked at him for a moment before he threw his head back and laughed. His laugh was like his voice, rough, forced, husky.
"Sir, no one's ever called me 'sir', except house-elves, they don't count." The man said, still chuckling. "Don't worry about being polite, waif, I've heard your every though since your brother became the boy-who-lived."
Harry stared, since he was a baby, but . . .
The man, Harry, was just watching him, observing him and Harry (that's going to get confusing) knew that he wanted him to figure it out for himself.
The only thing he could think of that's always been there would be . . .
"Sir, are you my voice?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.
The man smirked and that was all the answer Harry needed.
'How could this man be my voice? I'm talking to him! He's supposed to be in my head, wait, does this mean that this all in my head? Am I dreaming this? Am I hallucinating? Did I hit my head when I fainted? Am I crazy?'
All of these thoughts flickered in his mind and he couldn't find anything to fully focus on.
'Okay, just talk to this man and try to get some facts before jumping to conclusions, that'll only complicate things.'
Harry sighed and looked towards himself, who looked cynically amused.
"I think I know who you are, and what you are, so, why were you in my head?" Harry asked, getting to the point.
The man smirked, "Well, now look who's being critical. Well, I suppose it's natural, you're much more rational than even I was at your age, than I was when I was a teenager, really. Ah, memories . . . "
Harry waited for the man to answer his question through his mutterings and finally lost his patience, "Sir! Please, answer me!"
The man stopped and looked to him, "Eh? Oh yeah, yes, I am your voice, and I am you. Does that answer your question?"
Harry hesitated before forcibly calming himself. "No, it only answers the who part of my question, it does not answer 'what' or the 'why' parts of my inquiry."
The man, the other Harry looked at him before smirking, "Yes, so damn mature. Ah well, the 'what' and 'why' parts a bit more difficult to explain. Well, might as well start with the 'what'. You see, little Harry, who I shall now call, "Teddy Harry" or "Teddy" for short-" the newly proclaimed "Teddy Harry" twitched, "I come from something called an Alternate Universe. From the beginning, from before what any of us can perceive as the beginning, there was energy, energy in its purest form. It, for lack of any better word, was dancing. It danced and danced, until the energy began swirl together, and separate. Energy began to emerge into what we call the universe, while of course, there is really a multiverse. All of the energy separated into different 'verses' and continue to dance, only interloping when there's a chance. In simple terms when something, or perhaps, someone, is faced with options, the energies interlope and in they branch off. Creating even more verses, in which each option was applied. Thereby, there are very many verses."
He took a moment to pause and take a breath while Teddy Harry had sat down halfway through his explanation and was waiting patiently. "Mind thinking me some water?" the older Harry, remarked before pulling out a goblet of water from God-knows-where and drinking the water. "Now, where was I?"
"You were explaining how the swirling energy created the multiverse."
"Ah, yes, well some people have concluded that through the current understandings of the appliance of the form of energy called magic, we may be able to cross into other universes through the tunnels, or vortexes, which are created when the energy intermingles with separate domains of energy. They have concluded that it may be possible to create a well-calculated system through which a person may travel from one universe to the other almost on will.
Of course, this has many problems with it.
Due to the fact that many people face various important to frivolous options in their daily lives, it's natural to conclude that unless they can track, document, and calculate every little decision everyone makes in the day, every day of their lives, there is no way to track what will be affected or what tunnels will be created. Naturally, many skeptics also point out that as it's an impossibility to be the only ones in the universe, let alone the multiverse, it would be a virtual impossibility for us to accurately calculate every decision made in our current universe that may branch off. They're still debating on whether or not a child choosing to buy a Mars Bar or flavored sugar will branch off.
Also, it would be impossible for us to calculate every decision that may have branched off in the past, or our concept of 'past'.
So, the researchers have concluded that if we do create a way for us to travel through the tunnels left by the interlacing energy domains, we would be traveling completely blind, if we survive at all.
So you see that universe traveling is something that cannot be taken lightly." Harry paused for a moment, his voice managing to sound no hoarser than it had when he had first started talking.
Teddy contemplated this for a while before saying, "So, what you're saying is that you managed to go through a tunnel, and ended up in my head as a result, completely at random?"
Harry blinked before saying, "Well, yeah, I suppose, although fate may have had a hand in it."
"If what you say is true, then that means that this is completely random, all chance, is that it?"
"Mostly, but that's the scientific part of what I've just said." 'What the hell is the science? Science is a way to manipulate energy without the essence of magic at a person's disposal.' Teddy said this.
Harry smiled and replied, "Well, I never really said anything about magic influencing this. All of what I had just told was pure science, without magic added into the mix.
Now, when you add the energy form of magic into the formula, then the concept of universal traveling is possible, with the right applications. However, this also makes controlling the flow of energy between domains, or even forecasting them and riding them out, impossible, although, that was a very good point and a good display of critical thinking."
"So, you're saying that magic changes very little in applications of universe traveling."
"No, I'm saying that magic changes very little in the theory of universal traveling. Due to the fact that no one was stupid, suicidal, bored, smart, or powerful enough to actually try to cross into an alternate universe, there are little actual applications; just theories."
"Which were you?"
"Desperate, suicidal, and stupid." Harry tilted his head back and looked at Teddy, "It was mostly an accident, to be honest. But, of course, that is a story for another day. I think now we should wake you up and send you back into your reality."
"Wait! Does this mean that it was all in my mind?" Teddy asked, wanting to know this last question.
"Yep, I think that two days have passed on the outside."
"…"
"What?"
"If I stay too long in here, will I die?"
"Not if someone doesn't kill you, otherwise our intermingled magic will keep you in somewhat of a homeostasis." Harry replied, looking amused at Teddy's question.
Teddy was quiet a moment before asking another question, "Does this mean I won't age while I'm with you, here on the inside?"
"Nope, you won't. Anymore questions?"
"Not at the moment."
"Close your eyes."
Teddy obeyed and waited.
"I'll talk to you later, just go out, take your money, and go home."
Teddy nodded.
There was no more feeling, no more light, no more variation . . . just green again.
Shampoo147: I have nothing to say.
Ayame: I do, I hate soggy noodles.
Shampoo147: Damn it, I forgot about them.