"Sure, wizards have magic. There's a Wizarding World, whatever. Believe, and the world is your oyster. We have it different. The Zone is both the Wizarding World and Hogwarts to us; it teaches and we learn. It has a magic everyone can see,"
He twisted a bolt in his hand.
Somewhere, a number turned down.
"I don't understand your dependence on magic. You have your wand everywhere you go. You can't tell me you don't feel it," WP regarded her curiously.
"Wands break, and we can't use magic after that," She replied quietly as a mouse.
"Mm. You can take a Stalker out of the Zone, but you can't take the Zone out of a Stalker,"
He bared his arm for her to see a faint yet bold tattoo. "Even if I were to never see it again, I know how it felt and how it feels. It's a part of me like my arms and legs. Nothing can take that from me."
4-26-1986-4-26-1986-4-26-1986-4-26-1986
"You don't know the Zone! You don't know what it's become!" Strelok protested angrily.
"'When a man thinks of the past, he hecomes kinder. The main thing, is that you must believe.'" The younger quoted.
He blinked.
"I knew something about you was familiar. There can't be two of us. The world would be better off without snakes, just as it would riflemen."
"Despite what it is, it's still the Zone, Strelok. It still has the Room."
"But do people believe?"
4-26-1986-4-26-1986-4-26-1986-4-26-1986
Scattered raindrops fell and turned fields into swamps. Storm clouds paraded their reign and seemed to control the sky completely. The wind blew and howled. Animals shrieked. Hail rained down on them, clunking on leftover cars and houses.
"The Zone is angry," Harry remarked from his position near the bridge.
"Why do we have to cross this bridge?" Xenia wondered from beside him as she adjusted in her dream.
"What do you want, Xenia?" Harry asked randomly.
"Wait! Why am I here? I was with Hermione." He outbursted suddenly and looked down at her.
She grinned. "Your experience with her is over. Now you must help the girl I'm emulating. When I release my control, it'll be her, not me. But I'll still be in the background, don't worry, Harry."
"What's your name?"
"Veronica." She faded in a sense he couldn't accurately describe.
"What do I want? I'm not sure. Not being where I am now would be nice. Or Var, for that matter."
"Var?" He wondered.
"Prison," She informed lightly.
"Why?"
"I don't know." At his surprised look, she added, "I really don't, I can't remember anything," Xenia blushed out of embarrassment.
"I'm not sure what I want, Harry. It's a hard question. What do you want?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You know my name?"
"Lucky guess. What do you want?"
He shifted.
"I want to help people. I'm a Stalker." He parroted.
"What do you want for yourself?" She enunciated.
"Companionship. A family. Love." The last Potter returned darkly. "What about you?"
"I want to be left alone and live somewhere other than a cell."
He tied a bandage to a bolt and handed it to her with great patience and care. "Keep it, it's yours."
"What happened to not tying them yourself? It's mine?" She took it in the same manner he had presented it with: both hands at both ends, slow moving, full body turning.
"This is different. We'll see. Keep the bandage clean. You'll need it later. And for God's sake, don't throw it,"
The two crept over the narrow bridge, tossing and marking places as they went. Hansel and Gretel came to Harry's mind. He smiled at the memory. The last Stalker took the moment to examine his Passenger, dreamscape or not. Her long hair swayed in the wind alongside her grim yet determined expression. Was she his legacy?
All of a sudden, he didn't want to be there in the slightest anymore.
"Don't throw one over the side," Harry warned. She rolled her eyes as if to say, "Why would I?" He half expected her to stick out her tongue. The trek lasted for hours. Sometimes they would take breaks, sometimes they'd keep on until the girl swore her soles would wear out. It all depended on how the Stalker felt. He seemed too young for her. At times, she felt like a kid in their backyard playing with toys! Next she'd have to imagine a horrific black dragon flying over the hills, or a thousand hungry, bloodthirsty rats...
Xenia sighed and paused mid-throw. "How can you Stalk so young?" Her voice almost faltered. His eyes grew dark. "We won't talk here. Still have the bolt?" She nodded to confirm and their journey soon went from day to night.
The bridge shore underwent a rapid change of scenery with it's sand and metal to an array of old and scattered buildings. The ground became cold and rocky. A deep ache began in her feet. Looking over, she couldn't tell what he felt. It was like the strange boy was made of statue.
"Stop here," He waved a hand behind himself. "Look up!" Harry whispered with joy.
The stars swept across the midnight atmosphere with a flourish rarely noticed. They twinkled and spun in the sky. "What do you want, Xenia?"
Her mind went blank, staring at the world before her. Her body performed on auto-pilot, giving no response whatsoever. Her mouth hung agape.
"I-" What did she want? In a flash, she decided. What she desired was something most people took for granted. It was a wonderful ability of expression and personality. It could be her everything. What was she, in the real world? She sat in a blank white room and answered questions from someone she didn't know. A tsunami of emotion washed over her. She couldn't do one of the things she dearly wanted. She couldn't say "thank you" to a cashier clerk that wished her a good day. She couldn't read. Oh, how Frank tried. He tried so much, it boggled her. They even brought in custom newspapers! He explained the words as she felt them with her fingers. She didn't understand. Would she ever? Hot tears rushed down her cheeks in a silent rain.
"I want to see, Harry. I want to feel the rain on my skin and hear the birds chirp in the morning and see a sunrise and a sunset.
I want to talk! I want to hear and say and do everything! I want to be normal! What are those things up there, Harry? What do they do? I've never been outside. I've never... I..." She whipped her eyes to meet his and she reached over and clung to him.
"Please don't leave. I used to want to be alone in my cell. I don't want to be alone anymore! Don't leave me here! You're my only friend. You've only ever been nice to me. I don't want to wake up, I don't want to go!" With a cry she buried herself in his chest, and he held her, looking up to the stars for relief only his deceased mentor could give. 'What do I do, Strelok?' He patted her back and ran his fingers through her hair slowly in a repetitive motion. Her pleas of "I don't want to go" and "don't leave me, Harry" grew more and more weaker.
After a while, the tears stopped and she felt cinched.
"Will it ever end?" She asked.
"What?" He replied quietly.
"Wanting this."
Harry swallowed deeply. "I uh, I don't think so, Xenia." He smiled sadly, only to be unseen. The hug became a cradle, only to be her warm quilt of daydreams, stolen by cold winds of reality.
The lone Stalker without his Apprentice closed his eyes. As he drifted off, he wondered. How did she know his name?
How did she know he was a Stalker?
