Desiring Other Times

Chapter 22 – The Jigsaw

Disclaimer: You've heard it once, you've heard it a million times, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. TT

A/N: Apologies for the late update.


When you dream of the future, you see a wonderful world where you're a fantastic person with a decent career, a partner, some children (if you like them), and all your friends living the same perfect lives. When I dream of the future, all I can think is 'I want to die'.


Many, many hours had passed since I had 'returned' from god knows where, and still Dumbledore had not replied. Mittere was a very reliable owl - and somehow he could manage to transport messages halfway across the world in three hours. But my owl had not returned, and there was no sign of him.

With a sigh, I trudged along to my next class, and vaguely noted that Finch-Fletchley was looking at me in a rather concerned manner. Ever since we had started at Eton, the boy had watched me far too closely for my comfort, and part of me wondered if Dumbledore had assigned him here as surveillance.

A wave of exhaustion billowed through my mind and I wavered, leant against the age-old glass that was thinner at the top than the base, drifting from lucidity into darkness with explosions of light on the sky that were the insides of my eyelids, sparkling like dust. Tired, so very tired, and I could feel my Vampire form coiling about inside of me, and hear someone drop their books to the ground and hurry to my side, their footsteps shaking the planks of wood and sent shuddering waves through my suddenly sensitive body.

"Harry! Harry! Harry!!" Finch-Fletchley's voice echoed throughout my ears, but it faded away as I segued, the pounding of his voice replaced by the buzzing of many voices that affected me like opium smoke. This had to be a dream, since my Vampire form had always resided in my magic, but that was gone now, right? But then again, how had he appeared that time when I was at Stone Henge? I had no idea of anything, and the only words resounding through my mind was that I really, really didn't need this happening now, not so soon, not ever really.

The dust light disappeared and now I could see… something? Flashes of different scenes, I could see Finch-Fletchley casting some sort of spell on me (probably Enervate?) and growing more frantic each time a new freeze frame of Eton appeared, scattered as they were within the other images that were inundating my mind.

An old man walking down the lane-

-a young family buying groceries-

-a young girl falling to the ground in a dead faint-

-two unconscious people of rather advanced age, with their twins standing over them and-

Dumbledore. That was Dumbledore. But the image had disappeared, had been drowned in flashes of other mundane scenes.

Focus, focus, focus, remember his waist long beard, his eerily blue eyes behind disguising half-moon glasses, the chaotic robes he had worn, that grandfather's voice (even if he'd never met his grandfather, either of them), that voice that made him want to surpass everyone's expectations…

Instead, there was a waxen face, white as the sun on a clear day… With slits instead of nostrils and glimmering red eyes filled with malice, the dramatically hissed voice sent shivers through Harry's body, wracking his frame with uncontrollable quivering.

You've lost, little boy… both your brothers will become your enemy – one will kill those dear to you and you will be forced to end their existences…

"NO!" Harry shrieked, flinging his arms before him reflexively, as if to physically cast away the vision. He wouldn't kill them, he wouldn't ever do anything like that to his family… flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood, even if they didn't really like each other… he couldn't imagine himself ever… ever mortally harming either of his brothers. There was just something inherently wrong with the idea.

Oh, but you will, boy… you will… Because there is no escaping fate…

Fate? Harry growled, grimaced, and let loose a yell that shook his most primal instincts, resonated and energized them. I… refuse… your future!


Falling, endless falling, my hair whipping about my face… and then swooping up, a golden egg cradled in my arms, the roar of an enraged dragon echoing in my ears but sounding eerily dampened. These eyes of mine truly were an unfair advantage; while raising and lowering the amount of magic that flowed through my eyes, I could see further or less (or none, if I lowered it enough) into the future, and I had seen dragons chasing after the other champions… funnily enough, I hadn't seen myself, but at the very least, the first Task had been revealed to me. And it made predicting where the dragon was going to attack child's play.

"…and Jeremy Potter has retrieved the egg in record time! Amazing, simply amazing flying – are you watching, Viktor Krum? This could be a future rival!"

Jeremy grinned broadly; now this was the sort of attention he was used to… and so long as he had these eyes, whatever trouble he ever faced would never catch him unawares. A wave of weariness swept over him and he blinked rapidly. At least, he'd be prepared as long as he didn't fall asleep just when he needed to act!

Feeling exhaustion starting to creep upon him, Jeremy began forcefully and deliberately sending magic to circulate around his body, to temporarily boost his energy. Unwittingly, a lot of magic started flooding his eyes, and the scene that met his eyes was the first one he'd ever had that also contained him.

His two brothers and he, standing in a triangle, facing outwards, shoulder to shoulder. Matthew and he brandishing their wands proudly and Harry also with one arm outstretched, a bracelet that glowed as fiercely as the tips of their two wands. Strangely enough, Harry had two arms, but that detail left Jeremy's mind as the trio raised their magical focus to the sky, the light bursting out suddenly to envelope the three. Three pillars of light burst from the blinding cloud and rose to the sky, twining around each other until they formed one, and the spear of light pierced the sky.

With a gasp of vertigo, Jeremy tumbled to the grass and he vaguely noticed that people were surrounding him, shouting at him, and their presence pressed in on him, suffocated him, until he closed his eyes and wished himself into unconsciousness.


"I don't believe you. That's impossible." The words were spoken with such conviction, but they stemmed from fear, from irrepressible fear. Such a seeming paradox, but once one realised they weren't spoken to convince the listener but to comfort the speaker, it was all too easy to pity the man.

"You do. You just wish it weren't so. And you think that if you deny it hard enough, if you pray hard enough, that if you close your eyes you'll wake up from this nightmare. But you believe me, oh yes you do, you're not stupid."

"Get out. I don't want to listen to your daft rambling. Aurors! Escort him out."



A sigh. The chair ground backwards, and Dumbledore stood. "Very well." A rather dangerous looking grin spread across his face, and Fudge recoiled at the expression.

"You're not-"

"No, I'm not. Imperio."


Matthew traced a thumb in an intricate pattern against the inside of the glass, and watched in satisfaction as the window began hissing and glowing where he had run his thumb over it. Eventually, the entire glass pane glowed hot red before melting and collapsing extravagantly. The Hufflepuff ethic combined with his Ravenclaw-worthy intelligence, Slytherin-esque innovation and Gryffindor-like confidence had been incredibly beneficial. Everybody in the castle expected him to cause as much havoc as his brothers, and he was going to oblige them. Painfully, if need be, but he was going to prove that he was better than both his brothers. And if that meant gaining the attention of the most powerful wizards and witches in the world, then so be it. He was going to be capable of defeating Voldemort before Jeremy, he was going to be more notorious than either of his brothers…

Matthew was going to prove to the world that he was better than them all. And if that meant playing god…

…then so be it, he thought with more than a little touch of melodrama.

-and Harry awoke, sitting up so fast his head spun. While he looked calm on the outside, perspiration dotted his face and neck. His brother. Matthew. They all just wanted to prove themselves, and look where it was sending them.


It should be obvious by now that Harry sees the 'present', Jeremy sees the future… and that Matthew will see the 'past'. If you didn't understand that, go read something else. This story is going somewhere, and no, Harry hasn't become second string to Jeremy in this story. This fanfiction is about Harry, not his brothers which are Original Characters. For those of you who don't believe me, I don't care what the hell you think.