Harry Potter leaned against the balcony railing as he watched the sunrise, a hot cup of tea hovering within arms reach. He had rarely missed a sunrise since he had started living in the house nearly a year ago. After watching the morning arrive over the great lake his balcony looked out over, he made his way back inside, passing through the glass doors that bordered the top floor of his home, doubling as windows.
The interior of the house was one large room, with a second floor loft that stretched over half the open space and served as his kitchen and living space, opening out onto the balcony as it did. The lower floor was his entertainment area, one wall dominated by a large media system that he had splurged on before discovering the contrary nature of technology around himself. A number of smaller rooms branched off the main one, bedrooms, bathrooms and a laundry.
Harry smiled as he looked over his home, sipping at his tea. Marcone had had it built for him over the remains of the burnt out home of a rival that had apparently run afoul of Dresden some time previously. It had remained unclaimed due to the lingering effects of the dark magic cast by the previous owner, something that was easily cleaned up by his particular brand of magic. The best part of it was that the house had been completely free; a bonus for taking care of the MacFinn business. Personally, Harry just thought Marcone had gotten sick and tired of his bitching about the hotel whenever he saw him.
These days, he spent his time running odd jobs for Marcone, performing the tasks he needed someone he could trust to carry out and generally enjoying a somewhat lazy existence. His reputation had grown amongst the ranks of Chicago's underworld; rumours of the 'Magician' and the 'Wizard', men who could pluck a thought from your head or hurl fire around with ease becoming popular topics of gossip amongst those who believed such things.
He had heard nothing of the vampires since his run in with them at the brothel all those months ago, but still kept an eye out for the signs of them that he had learned to watch for; especially the Red Court. Nothing could hold a grudge like a creature that could live for centuries.
Harry completed his morning routine at a leisurely pace, taking his time with his breakfast before heading for a shower. An enjoyably hotshower; he might have put up with a TV, phone and radio that only worked occasionally, but after the first cold shower he had taken steps. Some wizard he would be if he resigned himself to cold showers without a fight.
Stepping out of the shower and into the steam filled bathroom, Harry dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist before approaching the fogged up mirror, toothbrush in hand. He wiped his hand across its surface, revealing his reflection and the smiling woman standing behind his shoulder.
The magician reacted instinctively, toothbrush held like a dagger as he spun to stab the intruder in the eye, his free hand calling the wand that sat on a nearby shelf to him. The improvised weapon met no resistance as it passed through empty air, while his wand soared into his grip as he faced an empty bathroom, adrenaline racing through his veins.
An amused laugh came from his back, prompting him to turn and face it. The woman, a red head that looked vaguely familiar, was still standing behind his own reflection. High cheekbones, delicate lips and fiery, intricately braided hair that clashed with bronzed skin gave her an otherworldly beauty as she stared at him in amusement. "My," she smiled to herself, holding a hand over her lips, "jumpy, are we?"
Harry glanced over his shoulder once more to see an empty room before looking back at the woman in the mirror, of whom he could only see from her bare shoulders up. "Not at all," he smiled charmingly in return, "just wondering how I managed to miss such a beauty in my own bathroom."
"And such an actor too!" the woman exclaimed with a pleased air. "You're a man of many talents, aren't you, Mr Potter?"
Harry continued to smile at the figure in his mirror despite the shiver that ran up his spine when she spoke his name. "I like to think so," he agreed, placing his toothbrush down on the sink. "Now, as I consider it an absolute crime to have such a beautiful woman in my house without knowing her name, may I enquire as to yours?"
"Oh, you charmer," the woman waved him off, blushing slightly. "Call me Zorah."
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morning, Zorah?" Harry asked with an interested expression.
"Well, I was in the area, so I just thought I'd drop in," Zorah replied airily. "You know, see how you are, catch up on the gossip, bind you to my will."
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Harry told her politely. "I thought you just said you were here to bind me to your will."
"No, you heard me right," Zorah told him cheerfully, her image flipping red hair over her shoulder.
"I thought so," Harry replied mildly, his expression flat, at odds with his tone. Then his wand was raised, the incantation of a painful curse upon his lips.
"HarryJamesPotter," Zorah's voice reverberated through the air. A sharp pain cut through Harry's chest, agony rippling along his muscles. His wand fell from fingers that could no longer grip it. "Oh, I'm sorry," Zorah told him with mock sympathy. "Didn't I mention, you're already bound?"
"Don't fuck with me, bitch," Harry snarled at the smug image in his mirror, abandoning all pretence of manners with one hand grasping at his chest. "I will bring hell down upon you."
"And how will you do that, when I can bring you to your knees with naught but your Name?" Zorah asked him sweetly. "When you know not where to find me, or even who I am?"
Harry glared at his tormentor as the spasm running through his chest finally subsided. The tanned woman in the mirror took his silence as a sign to continue.
"Don't worry, I didn't come all the way out here just to have a chat," Zorah revealed generously. "I have plenty of things for you to do; you needn't worry about keeping busy."
"You think you can turn me into your bitch just like that?" Harry snorted derisively, crossing his arms.
"That was merely because I could," Zorah smiled at him, revealing a hint of the malice behind her cheerful facade. "You will obey me because you have no choice."
"Try me," Harry whispered, leaning in to goad the woman.
"You will submit to me, HarryJamesPotter," Zorah stated his name like a title. "You will obey me, HarryJamesPotter," she continued, yellow eyes burning in the mirror. "You are bound to me, HarryJamesPotter."
Harry felt the world fading around him, his senses dulling with each word the woman spoke. Colour seemed to drain from his vision as he marshalled his mind and magic in one last effort to retain his will. He felt the magic settle just as he blacked out; his last sight the woman in the mirror inspecting him with a cruelly pleased expression.
X
Harry came to slowly, finding himself staring at his bedroom ceiling. His mind was blank for several long moments as he sought to recall something extremely important that hovered just outside the edge of his memory. He smiled as it returned to him in a flash of insight.
He needed to go downtown, to a place called Hammer's Liqueur Store and open a Way to the Nevernever. He needed to follow that Way and sneak into the manor house that belonged to that bastard Abadun. He needed to kill Abadun while he was distracted by the wyldfae incursion on his territory. He needed to get out without leaving any survivors who knew of his presence and return to his house for his next task. He needed-
He needed to murder the bitch who thought she could dominate his will.
Harry clutched at his still wet head as a throbbing migraine set in and two sets of desires warred within it. He wrestled with the compulsions that lay upon him, bringing forth his magic in an effort to smother them. A corner of his mind observed his struggle dispassionately, dictating to his subconscious how best to evade the greasy tendrils that sought to ensnare his will. It was this corner that allowed him to resist the binding he was under, separated from his consciousness in the last second before he had blacked out in the bathroom.
The pain of fighting the binding was rapidly approaching his already ridiculously high pain threshold, his muscles twitching as uncontrollable spasms ran down his limbs. When he began choking on his tongue, the isolated corner of his mind recognised that he needed to end the fight soon. Steeling himself, Harry reached into the darkest corner of his mind and past it, drawing forth the thoughts and memories that he had long ago secured outside of his casual grasp; thoughts and memories that he had perused only once after gaining them before isolating and locking them away as thoroughly as he could.
For a split second there was a red sheen to Harry's eyes, then his back arched and his face contorted in pain. If he could have, he would have screamed.
Abruptly, it was over. Harry sagged back into the bed, coughing harshly as he rolled onto his side and he could breathe again. He had dealt with the compulsion infecting his mind, isolating it behind the barrier he had first constructed seven years ago. Now all that was left was to deal with the source, and for that, he needed information.
He was off to see the wizard.
X
Harry battered on the heavy steel door of the basement apartment, checking over his shoulder as he waited. He had felt a pair of eyes boring into his back ever since he had left his apartment, having Apparated to his destination after regaining his wits and reordering his mind from throwing off whatever compulsion the woman Zorah had attempted to ensnare him with. Quarantining a section of his mind to keep it safe from outside influences allowed him to fight them off without suffering directly from the consequences of doing so, but it also twisted his mind in a haphazard and bizarre manner-the hazards of studying Occlumency alongside Luna Lovegood.
Raising his fist to hammer on the door once more, he paused as he heard the sounds of irritated, huffing exertions coming from its other side. He tilted his head curiously as the door was slowly shunted open a few inches at a time, part of a bare female leg visible where it was braced against the wall to help open the door. After the door opening was a shoulders width wide, the leg dropped from its position on the wall and was replaced by a Hispanic woman wearing an overlarge shirt that he had met several times before.
"Hello, Susan," Harry greeted after taking a moment to survey her appearance with a slight grin. "Dresden not in?"
"No," Susan replied with a level stare, her arms twitching to fold themselves under her chest before she restrained herself.
Harry's grin widened as he observed the action, knowing exactly why she had stopped. "Mind telling me where he is then?" he asked.
Susan stared him down for several long moments before relenting. "He left a note saying he was going to St. Mary of Angels Church," she revealed somewhat reluctantly.
"I think I know the place," Harry accepted, eyes defocusing as he attempted to picture the location in his minds eye. Satisfied that he knew where it was, he winked at Susan and gave her another once over, enjoying her look of irritated resignation before turning on his heel and disappearing.
X
Harry stumbled to the side as he reappeared in an alley across from the enormous St Mary's Cathedral atop several bags of trash. Catching himself against a brick wall, he brushed himself off and made his way over to the parking lot across the road where he could make out a memorable Blue Beetle. The magician leant against the colourful car, taking in the damage that had been done to the surrounding area. Someone-or something, given Dresden's presence-had done a number on the car park. Several cars were completely trashed, and a number of trees lay where they had fallen after being uprooted and flung about. The sound of boots scraping along gravel alerted Harry to another's presence.
"Potter," Dresden greeted easily, if not warmly, as he approached. "What brings you round these parts?" he asked, affecting a bad Western accent.
"I'm chasing some information," Potter replied, pushing himself off of Dresden's car.
Dresden came to a stop before Potter, leaning on his staff. "What sort of information, and what are you going to give me for it?" he inquired idly.
"You're still seeing that Rodriguez woman?" Potter remarked, seemingly off topic.
"Yes," Dresden replied, drawing the word out.
"I'll get you a reservation for two, fully paid, at that new Italian place, and a nights stay at the Fairmont," Potter offered, naming the latest wildly popular acquisition of Marcone's (not that Dresden knew that) and the best hotel in Chicago, "and in return you tell me everything you know about how someone's Name could be used against them."
"You want to know about Names?" Dresden asked seriously, rubbing at the stubble on his jaw with one hand. "Alright. Jump in. I'll tell you all about Names, and you can tell me why you need to know."
X
"Someone used my Name against me at my house this morning," Potter began without preamble.
Dresden nearly stalled the car as they pulled out into the heavy traffic of the morning rush. "What were they after?" the wizard asked as he regained control of the Blue Beetle.
"I was commanded to kill someone," Potter revealed, toying with the fraying edge of his car seat.
"Is that so?" Dresden asked airily, eyebrows raised. Unnoticed by Potter, his hand drifted down to the gap between his seat and the door.
"Yeah. Some guy called Abadun," Potter waved it off. "What I want to know is how this bitch has any power over me just by knowing my name."
"If she knows your Name, then you're in a bit of trouble," Dresden warned him. "But this could be a good chance to find out how you got to this world in the first place. The only way to summon an Outsider is through their Name. So as long as you haven't done anything incredibly stupid..." Dresden trailed off as he caught sight of the sheepish look on Potter's face. "You've done something incredibly stupid, haven't you?"
"How was I supposed to know my Name could be used against me?" Potter scowled.
"More like how could you not know," Dresden muttered. "How many people have you told?" he sighed as he took a corner with a worrying squeal of brakes.
"Not that many," Potter defended himself. "Less than ten in an entire year."
"Less than ten..." Dresden would have pinched the bridge of his nose if he hadn't been driving.
"Most of them are dead though," Potter added helpfully.
"I don't even want to hear about it," Dresden grumbled. "How long do you have until you're compelled to kill this guy Abadun? Strange name," he remarked as an aside.
"I'm supposed to be on my way now," Potter shrugged casually. "But I freed myself from the compulsion and quarantined it until I can deal with it properly."
"Someone Named you and you broke their control?" Dresden would have gaped if he weren't too smooth for such an expression.
"I'm Harry fucking Potter," Potter smirked arrogantly at the (slightly) gaping Dresden. "No one controls me," he finished with a hint of iron in his voice.
The car was silent for the next several minutes as Dresden turned over several trains of though in his mind. "It was a woman?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"Three guesses how she got you to lower your wards to let her in," Dresden grinned at him. "You must strive to master your base desires, young padawan."
Potter snorted. "Like I'm going to fall for something like that. No, the bitch appeared in my mirror as I was stepping out of the shower."
"In your mirror?" Dresden demanded sharply. "Describe her."
"Bronze skin, hair a mix of red and orange, braided. Yellow eyes, angular face. Exotic," Potter responded rapidly, without taking time to consider his answer. "Identified herself by the name 'Zorah'."
Dresden turned the info over in his mind, before deciding on his answer. "Fuck," he replied succinctly.
"Fuck?" Potter inquired curiously.
"Fuck," Dresden affirmed. "I hate to say it, but it sounds like you've caught the attention of a Fae," the wizard expanded. "Summer, at that," he added.
"I've heard a bit about the Fae, something about deals, staying away from them and living in another realm. So, 'Summer Fae'?" Potter replied, turning his head inquisitively.
"Shit. Uhhh..." Dresden pondered the best way to quickly explain the danger a Fae represented. "Quick version: A race of mixed beings that live in the NeverNever, split into two distinct groups, Summer and Winter, Seelie and Unseelie. There's also the Wyldfae, but you don't need to worry about them so much. Fae love making deals with mortals, it's how they gain power and rise in their Courts. A Fae is incapable of telling a direct lie, but they can misdirect like a champ. Iron is their Kryptonite, but they don't like running water either," he revealed rapidly. "Seeing as how the Fae that tried to bind you came in through your mirror rather than just waltz through your threshold, it's probably a minor to mid level one, something you should be damn thankful for."
"Oh?" Potter questioned shortly.
"Titania and Mab, the Queens of the Courts, could go mano-a-fae with the entire Senior Council on their own and have a fifty fifty chance of winning," Dresden told him seriously. "Don't fuck with them."
Potter nodded slowly, taking the time to acclimatise to the idea of an enemy that outclassed him so utterly. Dresden had filled him in on the White Council on one of the few occasions they'd had cause to talk over the past year, giving the magician a good idea of the magnitude of powers they commanded. He hadn't survived to such a ripe old age by acting the fool, and so considered advice to stay away from beings that could curbstomp a wizard capable of kickstarting volcanos and tsunamis to be sage wisdom.
"The name Zorah rings a bell in a bad way, too," Dresden mused distractedly.
"If she's not something on the level of theses Queens, I can deal with her," Potter told him confidently. "I've got a bit of a plan already."
"If you say so," Dresden replied with a hint of doubt. "Going against anything that knew my Name isn't something that I'd relish."
"Ah," Potter drawled, "but you're not-"
"-not Harry fucking Potter, yes, you've mentioned," Dresden cut him off wryly.
Potter shrugged unrepentantly at the look the wizard was directing at him. "Just so we're clear," he grinned cheekily. "I'll sort out my end of the deal before I head off to deal with this Zorah," he continued on a more serious note. "There's just one more thing."
"What is it?" Dresden asked guardedly. The last time Potter had used that line, he'd blackmailed him out of the last of Mac's beers with the threat of telling the man how he served them-chilled.
"I don't suppose you know how to open a Way to the NeverNever, do you?"
Dresden rubbed his chin consideringly. "I can't help you right now...but I have something that can."
X
"It's a spell construct I made up," Dresden was saying as they pulled to a halt outside his apartment with a faint protest from the brakes. "Doesn't have too much brains about it, but it can follow basic instructions. Mostly," he amended with a slight scowl.
"And it will open a way to the NeverNever for me?" Potter pressed.
"Yes," Dresden replied confidently. Then he hesitated, "well, there is one small issue."
"Yes?" Potter asked in a long suffering tone.
"You'll have to wait until sundown," Dresden shrugged. "The spell won't survive during the day."
"Why not?" the magician demanded.
"Cleansing properties of the sun and all that," the wizard replied as if it should mean something.
Potter frowned at the information. He was stretching things as it was; if he waited another eight hours or so, his plan would be that much more difficult. His frown disappeared as a thought occurred to him.
"These cleansing properties," Potter mused, "they can be avoided?"
"They can," Dresden affirmed. "But only by taking shelter within a protected dwelling. Why do you ask?"
"I have a cunning plan," Potter announced with a smile.
"Goddamit Baldric," Dresden muttered under his breath. So much for keeping his 'spell construct' a complete secret.
X
A man with messy black hair, clad in jeans and a well worn leather jacket stood outside Hammer's Liquer Store. At his side sat several pounds of imperious alley cat, its eyes flickering orange under the midday sun. What little foot traffic there was stepped around the pair without thought, a subtle subconscious message allowing them to avoid what they couldn't see.
"It's been a while since I've been able to stand under the sun," the cat remarked idly.
"I can't imagine it'd be high on Dresden's priorities to take something like you out for a morning walk," the man replied dryly.
The cat snorted, "Potter, please. Like there's any chance you really believe I'm some sort of semi-intelligent pre-made spell. I am possessing of far too an august presence to pass under such a plebeian cover."
"Quite," Harry agreed with a perfectly straight face.
"Interesting thing too, this cloak of yours," the cat continued slyly. "You said your father created it?"
"That's what I told Dresden before he went down into the basement to get you where you couldn't possibly have heard me, yes," Harry replied easily.
"Please," the cat sniffed, repeating itself and cleanly ignoring Potter's implied accusation. "I can feel the age and blood seeping through it. Either you had an ancestor talented enough to craft an item to last centuries or you killed someone who did," it asserted without sounding too concerned which option was true, "but if this cloak of yours is only one generation old, I'll stay away from smutty romance for a month."
"Such surety," Harry remarked idly. "Are you sure you want to risk that?"
"It would be a horrible fate," the cat stated pompously. "Nevertheless, I am certain."
Harry snorted at the cat's put upon mannerisms, before the pair returned to watching the liquor store. The cat lasted two minutes before it spoke up again.
"So how old is this cloak, anyway?" it asked absently, as if not particularly interested in the answer.
"What's your name?" Harry countered with a question of his own.
"Bob," Bob the cat replied shortly. "How old is it?" he asked again, more insistently.
"Come on, let's go see what we can find out from Mr Hammer," Harry nodded to the man standing behind the counter of the store they were watching, ignoring the ferocious scowl that appeared on Bob's face.
A bell tinkled above the door as Harry entered the store, having slipped out from under his Cloak. He stepped over Bob as the still invisible cat tried to trip him up by walking across his path; still able to sense the animals movements through his connection to the Cloak.
"Howdy there," the shopkeeper greeted. "What can I do you for today?"
Harry glanced at the man's nametag before replying with a practised smile. "Well Nathan, I was hoping you could help me out. The missus sent me down here to pick up a bottle of her favourite drop, but I was a mite distracted when she was telling me which store to head to. I was hoping I could describe her, and you could tell me if you'd seen her before?" Harry finished his spiel hopefully as he slipped the tip of his wand from his sleeve. Subtly, he cast several charms around the man in an effort to determine if he were more than he appeared.
Nathan shrugged amiably. "Sure, there's only one other liquor store on the street, but..." he trailed off.
"Oh?" Harry inquired politely.
"You don't want to go there," Nathan warned as his pleasant demeanor fell away, leaving a chilly expression in its wake. "They're expensive," he warned, head tilted to the side as he glared out of the corner of his eye. "Horribly expensive."
An awkward moment carried on for several seconds, before the store keep grinned again, returning to his previous happy-go-lucky expression. "But give me a description, and I'll see if it rings any bells," he encouraged, ignoring his previous outburst.
"She's got her hair done up in various shades of red, tanned skin, a bit of height about her.." Harry rambled out. "Yellow eyes," he finished as a random aside.
Nathan's brow furrowed in thought. For a brief moment Harry thought he saw the man's brown eyes flash blue, but then he blinked and the instance was past. "I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of dealing with her," he answered, "but if you'd tell me what she wanted, I'm sure I could help you out."
"She was after a 21 year Glenfiddich," Harry reported, taking the opportunity to glance around the somewhat dusty shop.
"Ah," Nathan exclaimed approvingly. "An excellent choice. I'll fetch a cool bottle from the stockroom."
In short order, the sale was rung up and Harry made his way out of the shop, bottle of Scotch in hand and invisible cat trailing behind him. Once outside, Bob turned to him.
"What was the point in all of that?" the cat asked distractedly as it watched a young woman stroll past.
Harry looked at Bob askance. "I now have a bottle of twenty-one year old Scotch," he explained slowly. "That was the point of it." Tapping the bottle with his wand, the magician slipped it into a pocket that should have been far to small to accommodate it. "So," he rubbed his hands together. "How do we go about opening a Way?"
Bob the cat rolled his glowing orange eyes. "First, we need to find somewhere unobtrusive where we aren't going to freak out the locals. There's an alleyway behind Hammer's that looks promising."
Harry nodded, and gestured for the cat to lead the way. The alley Bob had indicated was grey, filthy, and resembled every other alleyway Harry had seen in his life.
"You don't seem to have any problem seeing me through this supposed Invisibility Cloak of yours," Bob remarked idly as they made their way deeper into the alley, approaching a corner that would take them out of sight of the street.
"The Cloak belongs to me," Harry answered flatly, "and it will never veil another from my sight."
"Okay then," Bob murmured to himself, not taken back at all by Harry's sudden change in tone. "This looks to be as good a place as any." Without further comment, the cat began to emit an orange glow, before a swarm of orange light swam out to form the outline of a doorway against the brick wall of the alley. "Done," the cat stated in satisfaction.
"That's it?" Harry asked dubiously.
"Yes, it is," Bob replied with a trace of irritation.
"It's not going to scatter me over the cosmos when I step through it?" Harry pressed.
"Not if I opened it correctly," Bob answered, not sounding overly concerned if he had or not.
"Is it going to make me horribly ill?" the magician asked suspiciously.
"Probably not."
"Will it take me where I want to go?"
"Fifty-fifty."
"Is there a chance that there's something waiting to eat my face on the other side?"
"Entirely possible," Bob told him cheerfully.
"Lovely," Harry dead panned. "Why the hell didn't Dresden just drop me by here and do this himself?"
"I couldn't possibly imagine," Bob shrugged. "I believe he's caught up in something himself. There are probably damsels involved. He'll eventually have to come to me for help, I will save the aforementioned damsels, and then they will thank me," the cat expanded. "That's how it usually goes, in any case."
"I'm sure," Harry nodded his agreement. "Here, have a bottle cap."
Before Bob could puzzle out Harry's strange statement, he felt the protection of the Invisibility Cloak swept from his body. The cat hissed in pain and surprise as it was exposed to the sun's rays, before an old bottle cap hit him between the eyes, startling him into silence. A second later and the cat was gone, along with the bottle cap Harry had thrown at it.
Sighting the Way beginning to wobble, Harry wasted no time in stepping through it. It snapped shut behind him, leaving the alley empty but for various items of rubbish. Several moments later, the back door of the bottle shop opened, to reveal Nathan the shop keeper peering out. Seeing nothing of interest, the man shrugged and retreated back into his store.
X
Harry's first step into the NeverNever was taken in a field of waist high grass that swayed gently amidst a warm breeze. His second step was a quick shuffle to the side, in order to avoid the shrieking gremlin-like creature that leapt at him, jaws wide and drooling as it attempted to eat his face.
An instinctive blasting curse met the creature mid-leap, hurling it back in a blast of flame. Harry blinked in surprise at the conflagration, before wheeling to the side as another of the small vicious creatures leapt out at him from the long grass, claws outstretched. A thin whip of flame lopped off the thing's head, this time without causing the rest of the creature to spontaneously combust.
A number of low growls echoed throughout the large expanse. Harry could see more of the little bastards zipping about through the grass, hidden from sight save for the ripples in the grass left in their wake. A quick circular gesture of his wand sent a wave of force outwards from his position, flattening his immediate surroundings and flinging another gremlin up into the air. Almost casually, Harry drew a bead on the creature's chest and released a well aimed piercing curse—a piercing curse that then blew the thing to pieces.
Harry frowned at his wand, thinking over the strange reactions of his magic to this new plane—and he was very clearly not on Earth any longer. The very colours of the world around him stood out as different in a very alien manner; yellow hues dominated the surrounding flora, while the sky slipped into royal purple all around the horizon.
The gremlins had quietened after Harry's easy dispatching of three of their number, although the magician could still make out a quiet chattering carried by the wind around him. He took the opportunity to further examine his surroundings.
On one side, the field he stood in was bordered by a forbidding forest, gnarled trees looming menacingly from atop the small hill they began on. To the other, a long hedge wall stood, stretching along and around the field save for a wide golden archway in the middle. It was a maze, Harry realised. He could make out the glow of a large fire against the late afternoon sky coming from the other side of the maze. There was an insistent pull from behind his mental shields, and Harry understood where he needed to go.
Around him, the growls of the creatures that thought to hunt him began to pick up again. Harry dove forward at the sudden presence of one of the gremlins right at his side, narrowly avoiding a slash of dagger-like claws that would have ripped out his kidney had they connected. He returned the favour by cutting it down at the knees, leaving it to snarl helplessly as it attempted to crawl towards the cover of the grass, only to be answered by a blasting curse to the head. Harry examined his wand again. It appeared that the strange behaviour of his magic was only occasional.
With the death of another of their kind, the remaining gremlins in the area raised an outraged howl, a howl that was answered by more and more of their kind. The ripples in the vast grass field grew more frenzied as a mob of the creatures began to circle him, edging closer with each rotation. Harry glanced towards the golden archway that was his current destination. It was some distance away, and the creatures were almost upon him. The compulsion locked in the corner of his mind insisted he leave no surviving witnesses to his presence, but he wasn't personally inclined to waste his time killing each and every one of the little bastards currently circling him in detail. He had a much better idea...he tapped his wand to his shoulder, before flinching as a current ran through his body, jolting him painfully.
On second thoughts, he would have to adjust his plan. It seemed his wand wasn't too fond of him at the moment. Now, to get clear of the field...
All motion around him stopped abruptly, before a series of high pitched yips echoed throughout the suddenly silent field. Then the beasts howled as one and charged towards him en masse. Harry grinned in anticipation, slipping his wand back into his jacket sleeve. His body began to swell, white fur sprouting through his skin as his fingers thickened and grew into claws. He fell forward onto all fours with a heavy thump, before drawing in a large breath.
One tonne of angry polar bear announced its fury to the world at large. He charged forward, squashing one gremlin underfoot like an overripe banana and bowling several more over as they attempted to slow him. Gashes that would have sent his organs spilling over the ground before were now mere annoyances to be shrugged off.
Shrieks of anger erupted from the creatures as they caught sight of Harry's white fur, their attacks increasing in ferocity; yet for all their viciousness, they were little more than gnats against the raw force of Harry's charge.
The great bear slid to a stop underneath the golden archway, shrinking in size as it returned to human form. The gremlins, sensing weakness, surged forward, their beady little eyes unable to make out the smirk on Harry's face. The magician gestured widely, his wand taking in the boundary of the field. The air seemed to shrink in on itself for a moment, before bursting out in a wall of flame, rapidly consuming the dry grass of the field.
The howls that had been full of anger only seconds ago turned to fear as the gremlins turned and tried to flee the oncoming wall of flame. The fire seemed to have a life of its own as it surged forward to consume the little beasts, circling around the edges of the field to allow no escape.
Harry surveyed the blackened field, absently wiping a few flakes of ash from his face. His fire spell had come easily, and acted more aggressively than he had expected. Something else to consider when he next had the chance. For now, he had a maze to navigate. He scowled. He absolutely loathed mazes.
A burning whip erupted from the end of his wand. Harry cracked it overhead, sending sparks flying and resisting the urge to conjure himself a cowboy hat. He had a maze to cut his way through.
X
"It could affect our whole future," Hermione told Harry and Ron, as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with ticks.
"Ancient Runes looks fun," Harry mused, looking over his own list.
Ron gave him a look of shocked betrayal, while Hermione beamed at him.
"I'm so glad you think so," Hermione gushed, flipping her own list over to the Runes page. "Some of the history behind it is intriguing, and the way you can find real Runes scattered amongst Muggle archaeological sites is just fascinating."
Harry shared a brief eye roll with Ron before he responded. "I suppose those bits aren't so bad, but I was more interested in the practical side of things."
"Practical?" Hermione asked, flipping pages with a frown. "Oh, Harry—that's not until the middle of sixth year."
"What?" Harry scowled his reply.
"Guess the stupidly hard subject isn't worth it after all," Ron stated brightly.
"Oh, I don't know Ron," Harry answered casually, in a tone that his friends unfortunately knew all too well. "If I study ahead on the parts that matter, I should be able to puzzle out the practical side of it well enough."
Ron groaned in an exaggerated fashion, while Hermione threw him an exasperated look.
"Harry," she began reproachfully. "Runes isn't a subject where you can just forger ahead on your own! Making a mistake with runes is much more serious than miscasting a simple spell. You need supervision if you want to practise advanced magic like this!"
"You mean like we did when we tried out those fire spells last week?" Ron asked with a grin at the thought of the fire spells he had taken far too much joy in discovering.
"Or when we tried object to animal transfiguration the week before that?" Harry added.
"Y—No-I mean yes! IF I hadn't been there Ron would have set himself on fire and you would have had to find a way to explain to Professor McGonagall where you found a mutant turtle!"
Harry grinned triumphantly. "See Hermione? We do have supervision."
Hermione let out a sound that was half groan, half shriek of frustration, pulling at her hair. Harry had used the same argument on her when he had first started moving far ahead of their classes and exploring new magic that they wouldn't be touching in classes for several years yet. For all her cautions and protests, she never could resist the lure of new knowledge, much as Ron, for all his complaints, had caught the same bug as his two closest friends that gave the the rush that came from achieving magic that they were told was beyond them.
"I think you're underestimating the challenge that Runes presents," Hermione began, ignoring the grins on her friends' faces that said they knew she was about to capitulate, "but if we're careful, we can likely study ahead on our own in this subject too," she grudgingly allowed.
"Of course we'll be careful Hermione," Ron began innocently. "When aren't we?"
Hermione gave the two of them 'The Look' and received a pair of sincerely contrite expressions in exchange. "What other subjects were you interested in?" she asked resignedly.
"Well, Arithmancy looks useful, and Care of Magical Creatures..."
X
Harry slashed his way through yet another hedge wall, his nose crinkling in distaste as he took in the scent of the burning gremlin that had been hiding within as it fell to the ground in two pieces.
He examined the fire whip that was burning with unusual intensity, turning several possibilities over in his mind. Save for its greater power and tendency to light the things he was cutting on fire, the whip hadn't exhibited any other unusual tendencies, unlike his blasting curse which had set a gremlin alight, or his failed flame freezing charm which had given him a small, if rather unpleasant burn. He wasn't so blind as to miss the common factor between the separate occurrences, either.
The magician made his way down a long, narrow path, heading towards the centre of the maze. Casually, he flicked his wand over his shoulder, curling the tip of the whip around the neck of a gremlin that had attempted to sneak up on him. The creature dropped headless to the ground and he hacked a path through the next hedge wall on his next swing, revealing a large clearing, devoid of the soft grass that had carpeted the maze so far.
Instead, dry earth pervaded the empty clearing. Empty, that is, beside the large, dirty white mass of...something that sat squarely in the middle of the open space, ensuring that he would have to go past it in order to continue through the maze.
Sure, he could double back and cut his way around the large thing that was probably some sort of guardian of the maze, but that just wasn't his style.
Why?
Because he was Harry Fucking Potter, that's why. Wand raised, he took a step into the clearing.
The creature shifted and gave a great snort, as if alerted to his presence. A set of four stocky, misshapen legs unfolded beneath it as it got to its feet, sending mild reverberations through the ground. It shifted its massive bulk to face the intruder, and Harry found himself facing something he never would have expected even after all his years dealing with weird shit in the wizarding world.
The creature he faced towered above him, nearly fifteen foot tall, and had six arms to go with its four legs. Two of its arms were occupied by a pair of wicked looking great axes that seemed to glow with an inner flame. Harry blinked, took another look, then blinked again. Take away the legs, arms, and great axes, and he was facing a potato. A giant, murderous potato.
A mocking smirk began to make its way across his face, before it was quickly wiped away as the giant killer potato gave a mighty bellow from a fang lined maw and charged across the clearing, axes held aloft like they were weightless and thirsty for blood.
A gout of flame burst from his wand to meet it, only for the beast to leap to the side, easily avoiding the spell. Harry reacted quickly, with a focused blasting curse that punched through one of the arms holding an axe. The spell left a hole the size of a melon that was ignored completely. A spell to slow movement hit the creature centre torso to no affect, followed by another cone of flame that was avoided equally as easily by the beast, barely impeding its charge. Cursing, he cracked his fire whip into existence around the joint of one of its legs, before severing it from beneath the rabid potato monster, causing it to topple forward and lose its momentum.
The magician dove out of the way of the stumbling monster and rolled to his feet, sending a trio of dark cutters into its side. The curses that could leave deep gashes in solid rock were only moderate annoyances to the creature. It regained its balance and changed direction quicker than Harry would have thought possible, closing on him rapidly. He cast another spell, this time on the ground in front of the being. Sharp spikes of rock began to rise from the earth, only to crumble into dust before they could impale his foe. Cursing at the failure, Harry watched as the two axes were raised in preparation to split him in two, noting that the hole he had blown in the things arm was already healing.
Harry closed his eyes as the axes fell—before smirking as the creature bellowed in rage as its weapons found only empty space, its prey disappearing into thin air. Then he swore in shock as a portion of his left arm below the elbow fell from his body, splinched. The creature turned as the scent of blood reached it, drool falling from its maw, to see its prey standing wounded on the far side of the clearing. Levitating his arm back into place, Harry reattached it with a sticking charm, before placing it in stasis. He would deal with it properly later. Now, his ire was raised.
Concentrating fully upon his task and ignoring the monster that was again charging him, Harry made a number of a quick, concise and careful flicks with his wand, muttering an incantation beneath his breath. The tall hedge behind him began to rustle and shift, and a gremlin within it let out an agonised shriek as it was impaled by numerous thin wooden branches. Harry sank to his knees and rocked back on his haunches, keeping his focus on the spell he was weaving.
When he was in his seventh year, Dumbledore had taken to teaching him numerous ways to improve his sporadic control of the more complicated transfiguration and animation spells he was teaching him. One of these exercises had included transfiguring and animating something of the surrounding environment and having it do battle with his mentor's own creation. Despite the usefulness of the task in improving his control and concentration, Harry suspected that Albus had chosen that particular method of teaching purely because of the fun that they had in pitting their golems against each others.
As the maze guardian passed the centre of the clearing, Harry completed his spell. There was a cracking of branches, followed by a shower of leaves and blood droplets falling on him, before a long, spindly wooden leg stepped over his crouched form. Two more thin wooden legs joined it, revealing the amorphous body the three limbs supported. The hedge monster scampered forward to meet its foe, leaves shaking everywhere as it chittered angrily.
Harry's foe ignored his creation, sparing only a moment to bat it away with one axe and continue its charge, only to find the animated bush cling to the arm that had struck at it. Two of the unoccupied arms attempted to tear it off unsuccessfully, finding that the bush had thorns that had embedded themselves in its flesh. The hedge monster began to swarm over the creature, its spindly legs digging into the ground and setting out roots.
Within a minute, the only thing visible in the clearing was a thrashing bush that was entrenched in the clearing. What Harry guessed was the potato monster's blood began to spread from under his creature, and he directed it to grasp its foe even tighter. The beast gave out an agonised roar, and Harry snapped a small ball of flame at the base of the hedge. The flame circled around his pinned foe, before growing inwards and upwards. The bush and the creature it contained were immolated in seconds.
Harry smirked at the conflagration that had been his opponent. When in doubt, burn it to the ground. Rising to his feet, the magician beat the dirt from his jeans. He still had a Fae to hunt down. But before that...
With a frown, Harry removed the sticking charm keeping his left arm in place and levitated it before himself, inspecting the damage. Fixable, but not something he would attempt in hostile territory while his magic was acting strangely. Shrinking the severed limb, he placed it in a secure pocket of his leather jacket before tapping his wand to the stump of his arm and focusing. He incanted a Latin phrase, and for a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, the stump began to writhe and bubble as a silver substance grew out of it. Slowly, a new appendage boiled into shape.
Harry clenched his new fist, enjoying the strength he could feel behind it. It wasn't the first time he had been forced to fashion himself a new limb on the spot, and it likely wouldn't be the last either. In some ways it was a pity that prolonged use of a limb like this resulted in silver poisoning. Examining the limb with a critical eye, he took in the flame and phoenix motif engraved in the arm. That certainly hadn't been intentional.
Shrugging, he put it from his mind for now and considered his location. If this was the centre of the maze, then he was halfway to whatever it was protecting—likely the Fae Abadun. He turned to the hole in the maze wall left by his hedge monster, and was lifted off his feet by a fist sinking into his gut. He wheezed as his breath was driven from him, before he was grabbed by the back of his neck and hurled across the clearing, bouncing across the dry earth before rolling to a stop.
"Who sent you?" the powerful voice of his attacker demanded, ringing with authority. "Which cur thought to send a mortal wizard to end me?"
Harry coughed as he got to his feet, left hand pressed to his ribs and his wand held loosely in his right. As he regained his breath, he took a moment to examine the newcomer.
For a brief moment, Harry felt a small pulse of intimidation. His attacker stood tall and was clad in the bronze armour of a gladiator. He wore his helmet like a crown, intense dark eyes staring out from under it and he regarded Harry like a king would a peasant. This was a man who rightfully expected the subservience he was due, and looked all too ready to use the short blade in his hand if it wasn't received. "Well?" he demanded, clanging his sword against the small round shield he held and heightening the undercurrent of intimidation Harry felt. "Tell the truth!"
The demand rang in his ears, and Harry suppressed a snarl in response. Clearing his mind, the sense of intimidation fell away like a curtain, and the Fae standing before him was reduced to just another supernatural being that would rip his head from his shoulders if he let it.
"This is your first time in the NeverNever," the Fae proclaimed, inhaling deeply. "I can smell it on you. The Wyldfae you conscripted were dealt with long before your arrival."
Harry's head tilted to the side, betraying his curiosity.
"You are more ignorant than I took you for, mortal," the Fae derided, "if you are unaware of the flows of time within this realm."
"Oh?" Harry questioned, putting on a politely interested air. "Do tell."
The Fae snorted. "You shall not gain further insight from me, mortal. You have trespassed against me, and for that I shall have your head."
"Abadun?" Harry questioned suddenly, and for a moment the Fae was put off.
"You are aware of who I am, yet still you challenge me? More fool to you!" Abadun proclaimed, hefting his sword and his shield.
Harry made no reply, save to smirk as he finished mending what damage he could to his ribs before making a mocking 'bring it' gesture with his free hand. Abadun clashed his sword against his shield and charged forward faster than Harry could dodge. A wave of concussive force met the Fae, stopping him in his tracks. His heels dug into the ground as he struggled to remain grounded.
A slash of his blade cleaved the force holding him back in two, freeing him to close on the interloper once more. Abadun's blade cleaved his foe's head in twain, only for the image to fade away into smoke. A volley of chains whirled towards him from his side, prompting him to drop to avoid capture. The attack was too swift to avoid completely, and he was caught across the jaw by the tail end of a chain.
Harry watched in satisfaction as Abadun cursed and held a hand to the wound that would have shattered the jaw of an ordinary mortal.
"Chains of iron?" Abadun accused with righteous fury, before calming slightly. "No, not true iron. I shall have your head for this wizardry," he claimed, taking his sword hand from his face to reveal that the chains had left him with a blackened mark on his jaw that was rapidly fading.
"You're welcome to try," Harry invited, buffing his nails on his jacket. His foe growled, and an orange flame surrounded his sword. A heavy sense of power collapsed upon Harry, nearly forcing him to his knees and pinning him in place. Abadun charged once more, blade questing for his throat. Malicious triumph shone in his eyes as he bore down upon the immobile wizard.
Harry reached up and casually grabbed the aflame blade by the tip, uncaring of its sharpness. The Fae wasted a moment staring incredulously at the feat, before wrenching his blade free—or attempting too. When the sword remained firmly in the smirking wizard's grip, he channelled further fire to it, intending to burn the arrogant wizard's hand from his body. Instead of the scent of burning flesh, the silver arm began to glow, designs and patterns upon it becoming highlighted as the heat grew.
Silver arm?
"Look into my eyes, Abadun," Harry encouraged softly, his casual uncaring demeanour falling away. The Fae found himself drawn unwillingly into gazing at the suddenly sickly green depths, shining with victory. "Legilimens!"
X
Far beyond the darkest recesses of the shadowed corners in Harry's mind, a small imperfection appeared on an impenetrable, inhuman barrier.
X
Harry retreated from the mind of the Fae the instant he felt the insanity welling within it. Having retrieved the information he needed, the magician swiftly stepped away from the now gibbering Abadun, watching in guarded confusion as he screamed soundlessly, body in spasm against the ground. He stared in horrified curiosity as the Fae tore out his own eyes, blood from the torn sockets streaming down its face.
There was a sharp spike of pain in his head, causing him to close his eyes and rub at his temples. It passed quickly, and Harry cleared his head with a shake, before refocusing on the matter at hand. This reaction to his mental probe was unprecedented, and something told him it went beyond the strange behaviour of his magic within this Nevernever.
Abadun continued to claw at his bloody sockets, gnashing his teeth and chattering a litany of inhuman phrases that soured and twisted the very air. Harry swore he saw a small piece of brain matter fly out at his opponent's scratching. Mercifully, he blew of the Fae's head with a blasting curse.
A wave of unexplainable dread washed over him. This was no mere ill reaction between conflicting magics-his foe had been driven to tear his own eyes out by something he had seen within Harry's head—something Harry himself was unaware of. None of his memories could have provoked such a reaction, not even those he kept bound behind a rigid set of barriers he had constructed himself and rarely dared to touch.
This was a troubling new development, and one he did not have time to ponder at that moment. He would have to conclude his business with the Fae swiftly before he could devote his energies to solving this mystery.
With naught but a slight frown to betray his internal conflict, Harry centred himself and focused on the details he had torn from Abadun's mind, taking great care with his magic. As he disappeared with a faint pop, a small creature fluttered from its vantage point atop a nearby hedge wall. What she had just observed held value, and her Queen would wish to know it.
X
Harry surveyed the lavish villa from atop a nearby hill. It was nestled in the middle of a wide valley, and surrounded by slopes of vibrantly green grass. Swarms of butterflies fluttered around the area, and a lark warbled its greeting from a nearby copse of trees.
Somewhere within the villa was Zorah, the bitch who had tried to enthral him. He wasn't going to give her another chance to try it. Eleven inches of holly and phoenix feather sang warmly in his hand, and he smiled. Raising his arms, Harry flicked his wand into the sky, and drew on the fire that waited.
Strands of flame escaped from the tip of his wand, coalescing into a small sparrow. The sparrow flew into the air, growing in size as it did. The sparrow twisted into a swan as it passed through a swarm of butterflies, consuming them in an instant. There was a flurry of movement down in the villa, and the multitude of butterflies in the area suddenly homed in on Harry's location with a purpose, revealing themselves to be small faeries. A fireball from the villa was launched at the fiery swan that hovered in the sky, detonating on impact. Instead of dissipating the construct, the swan absorbed the attack and swelled once more, throwing its wings wide and raising its head in a triumphant cry.
The enormous phoenix descended upon the villa like a comet. It impacted with a roar, flash roasting anything within one hundred yards. The earth shook and silence pervaded the area for a long moment, before the faerie swarms that had been coming for Harry quickly reversed directions and fled, leaving the wizard to make his way down to the villa. He spun on his heel and disapparated with care, having no intention of either walking down the hill or splinching himself on arrival.
Arriving in one piece this time, he surveyed his surroundings, ignoring several burning figures stumbling around blindly. Even if his suspicions bore out and the Fae were fire resistant enough to survive, they were no threat to him in their current state. He wondered idly if Fae needed oxygen to survive—he hoped so.
Harry turned about just in time to catch sight of a closing portal, one he recognised from his entrance to the NeverNever. Bitch thought she could escape just like that, did she? He'd see about that. Leading with a magical shield, he strode through the portal with scant seconds to spare before it slammed closed behind him. As he stepped into the mortal world, his shield bulged and rippled, before a column of fire crashed impacted upon it. The flame flowed around the shield as it began to fracture, and Harry took the chance to disapparate several meters to the right. No longer focused on maintaining his shield, he watched as it shattered explosively, overwhelmed by fire and scorching the well kept green turf around it.
"HarryJamesPotter," a voice shaking with fury challenged him.
Harry grunted as if slapped at the statement of his Name, before smiling thinly as he took in Zorah's scorched appearance, ignoring the way her burnt clothes came teasingly close to revealing her body. Rather than respond, he sent an overpowered banishing hex at his foe.
Zorah grimaced in pain as the force of the spell hit her like a truck, forcing her back several paces. "HarryJamesPotter," she repeated angrily, "you are bound to me, enthralled to me, indentured to me! Cease your attacks and serve my will!"
"Fuck you," Harry offered with an insolent smirk, before a dark look crossed his face. "Stronger beings than you have tried to take my will. What makes you think you have any chance?"
"I have your Name!" Zorah screeched angrily as she summoned another torrent of fire to hurl at him, composure thrown to the wind.
"And we'll have to have a little chat about where you got that, too," Harry responded pleasantly, even as he froze the flame solid. Another flick of his wand and the stream of ice became an enormous python, which turned on the Fae.
"You spoke your Name a myriad of times with such careless abandon, I thought it to be a trap," Zorah revealed tauntingly. "Then I realised you were merely an arrogant fool!" She blasted the advancing snake with another gout of fire, before changing tactics and throwing waves of tiny flames whirring through the air at him.
A thick wall of ice was Harry's answer. The wall stopped the numerous blades of flame in their tracks temporarily, but more and more came and quickly began to wear the barrier down. Casting his gaze around, Harry finally realised where they stood—in the middle of an empty stadium. Gesturing with his wand, he began to rip chairs from the concrete they were bolted to and hurling them towards Zorah from all directions. She responded by releasing a blast of fire that incinerated the projectiles and devoured the icy wall blocking her from her target, only to find that he no longer hid behind it.
Zorah spun on the spot, bringing her arm up in time to block the wizard's attack. Wielding his wand like a dagger, he had attempted to stab her in the back. She smirked as she gripped his wand and snapped it like a twig—or attempted to. Finding the seemingly fragile piece of wood unyielding, Zorah looked into vibrant green eyes and nearly began to froth at the mouth at the amusement—amusement!-she found there.
"HarryJamesPotter" Zorah snarled for the third and final time, "youwillsubmit!"
The last thing Zorah felt before she blacked out was the sensation of falling.
XxX
Zorah came to under a blisteringly hot sun. While this was not normally a cause for concern, the fact that she could feel herself affected by the heat was.
"Shitty weather, isn't it?" a disinterested voice cut through the oppressive weight of the sun.
Scrambling ungracefully to gain her feet, Zorah pushed herself off the sand she lay on. She swayed as she stood, finding herself standing at the top of a colossally tall sand dune. Turning to the only other figure in sight, she shaded her eyes from the glare of the sun that shone at their back. As he drew closer, Zorah took in the sight of the insufferable wizard who was somehow responsible for her current situation. She conjured fire, prepared to smite him where he stood if an explanation wasn't forthcoming, only to receive no response.
"You have no power here," Harry stated, his gaze sweeping across unending desert, before grimacing. "Strangely, neither do I."
"Where are we?" Zorah questioned sharply, attempting to regain control of the situation. As she waited for an answer, she took in his attire. While she still wore the same burnt summer clothes she had during their fight, the wizard was now clad in some sort of druidic robe, bare of all adornments save for a bracelet that drew her eye.
"I would guess this to be a part of my mindscape," Harry revealed with an expansive gesture, which Zorah's eyes followed, fixed on the bracelet. It was woven with some unidentifiable material, and a small grey tooth was held in place at the underside of the wizard's wrist. The tip pierced the skin, suckling steadily at a tiny vein.
"Your mindscape, and you've so generously invited me in?" Zorah asked with a sly smile. "Silly little wizard. What did you hope to accomplish?"
"Zorah," Harry began kindly as he turned to face her, "I'm not locked in here with you."
A chill ran down Zorah's spine, completely ignoring the sweltering heat, as the red eyes of the wizard fixed on her own.
"You're locked in here with me."
X
Harry watched dispassionately as the body of the Fae who had sought to enslave him withered into a husk. The corpse fell to its knees, before a solitary breeze that carried the death rattle of thousands sanded it down, the grains of its corpse pouring to the desert floor to join the uncountable numbers of its fellows.
The magician turned in a full circle, taking in the alien landscape. This was not a part of his mind, yet he had entered through it. He glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist. A tiny eye was engraved on the tooth that fed on his blood. It blinked at his gaze, sending his pulse skyrocketing before he brought it back under control. He ran a hand over the material of the bracelet itself. It was organic, perhaps strands of muscle of some unknown creature. They were deathly cold to the touch of his fingers, yet gave no such sensation to the wrist it was clasped to. He shivered, having never felt the overwhelming heat that Zorah had been exposed to.
He closed his eyes and focused his mind, determined to discover all that he could with the chance he had been given, as he couldn't quite see himself driving someone to insanity every time he wanted another glimpse at...wherever he was. Mentally, Harry reached out to examine his surroundings—and choked off a scream as his surroundings looked back. An iron cage crashed down around his consciousness and dragged him down, down, down...
XxX
Harry woke on his side with the scent of smoke in his nose. He stumbled to his feet, wand in hand and alert for threats. A small patch of burning grass nearby was the source of the smoke, and it would quickly die out. Searching for his foe, he found the still corpse of the Fae laying several meters away. The last thing he could recall was her will questing into his mind, followed by a vague sense of unease that he had forgotten something terribly important.
Zorah had not died easily. Blood streaked across her face, leaking from the remains of her tongue and dripping from what used to be her ears. Brain matter clung to her nails, the remnant of a crushed eyeball clasped in one hand. Her sanity had been destroyed just as surely as Abadun's.
Right then and there, Harry resolved not to delve deeply into the minds of any but his surest enemies. This was a torture beyond that of the Cruciatus, and one that might still be harmful to himself as well. He flicked his wand, encasing Zorah's remains in ice and summoning them to himself. After several more spells to remove all trace of his presence, he disapparated with a faint crack.
X
Harry appeared in his living room and was hit by a wave of fatigue, the events of the day catching up with him. For some reason, the sun was rising outside again despite it still being late afternoon, yet he couldn't quite bring himself to care.
He levitated the icicle Fae over to his dining table, setting it down carelessly before releasing the sticking charm on his conjured silver arm and detaching it from his shoulder, sending both it and his real arm to join the Fae. Another flick of his wand and the sound of a shattering mirror filled the house. He'd reattach his arm and fill Dresden in the next day. He needed to rest, and think on the discoveries-and mysteries-he'd come across within his own mind. Beyond that, nothing short of open warfare in his kitchen was going to pry him from his bed before he was good and ready.
He'd dealt with more than enough shit for one day.