Lead the Way

"It's never been about ideology," Bellatrix whispered, as she entered her room. The living room was a cosy space with a tall lamp, dark green soft carpet, a couch and a set of armchairs facing the dying hearth. A silhouette moved in the dim light and she smiled. "It's about having fun."

"Welcome back Mistress."

She jumped on the couch and stuck her palm out.

A pretty brunette came into the light from the kitchen that was tucked away in one corner. She was wearing a french maid costume and her eyes were fixed to the floor with a demure expression as she carefully carried a tray with her mistresses favourite single malt.

"Thank you darling," Bellatrix said with wink and slapped her ass as she walked away.

Bellatrix could feel it again.

The thrill of a revolution. She rolled the liquid in the glass idly. The shadow of of the light highlighted the small smile that was growing on her lips.

Her caged prey shivered in the dark. Bellatrix was thinking. She was smiling. This was good. Her mistress had a new target.

"Tracey dear," Bellatrix said suddenly. "You know Harry Potter right?"

Rage burned inside Tracey. This was all his fault. Her precarious situation had him to blame.

"Yes Mistress," she replied, looking at the painting of the drowning sailor on the wall behind Bellatrix. She always avoided eye contact. Eye contact made the witch go crazy.

"What gets him off?" Bellatrix asks Tracey.

Tracey's heart jumped. Why was Bellatrix so curious about Harry? she wondered. Was he here?

"Battle," Tracey replied after a moment's pause. "He is a psychopath looking for something to excite him. Most psychopaths are satisfied with the rush of murder but Potter… he'll destroy the world looking for excitement. He's mistaken his excitement for purpose and is just a blind crazy orphan with a god complex. It's that simple."

Bellatrix licked her lips. How exciting, she thought gleefully. She was going to have fun with him. She slipped out of her robes and slid onto her expensive mattress with a soft sigh. "Could it be that simple?" she said with a sinister chuckle.

"May I ask why the Mistress is interested in him?" Tracey was taking a bold step by asking a question but her desperate mind had instinctively latched on to a possible way out.

Bellatrix yawned. She was tired. "He's spending the night at Dany's."

Tracey's heart quickened. Could she use this to escape? Why did Bellatrix tell her?

"Come here darling. I'm feeling sore. I could do with a massage."

Tracey automatically summoned the massage oils. "Yes, Mistress."

"And take off your clothes."

"Yes, Mistress."

Tracey steeled her mind. She had to wear the bitch out if she needed time to plan an escape.


Dany's Homes, Avalon. The following Sunrise.

Harry woke up on a warm floor and thin blanket shielding him against the cool ventilation of his room. He felt well rested. He had even eaten a normal meal complete with greens and fruits.

He hadn't even had any dreams or couldn't remember them. He couldn't remember

The room was spacious with a four poster luxuriously carved out of mahogany and wrapped in crimson silk blankets. Floating lanterns lit the room with comfortable luminosity and the high ceiling was enchanted to reflect the night sky or day, depending on the mood of the occupant.

Harry had bypassed the soft mattress and chosen the wooden floor for a good nights sleep.

"What time is it?" he asked out loud. He had been informed at the reception that the rooms were charmed to respond to requests.

Green Mist materialised by the bed side table and morphed into four thirty in the evening.

Time was becoming relevant to Harry after being ignored for far too long.

"And where am I, geographically speaking."

The mist twisted into words. Geographically speaking you are nowhere. Or was it runes? Harry could understand it but he was unable to actually see words or runes.

What a strange magic, Harry thought; the background of his mind began to ponder over where nowhere could be. This place was a physical construct therefore it had to exist somewhere in space or time.

The Mist was a deeper form of communication, Harry realised. One beyond runes. Enchanted into an artificial form of communication through the touch of the source.

Harry chuckled with amusement. He was liking Avalon more by the minute. He walked to the cupboard and opened it to find army green pants and a white collared shirt; freshly laundered and neatly folded beside inner wear, a pair of black socks and grey sneakers.

The magic of this hotel knew what clothes he'd possibly like too. He was amazed at the level of detail the enchantments went into.

A steam bath and cold shower later. Harry was dressed and ready to embark on the next leg of his path to the source. He was ready.

He teleported to the reception and checked out after charging a crystal with his magic. Currency here was interesting he had learnt when he checked in and had it explained to him. The proprietors had crystals that stored magic and they collected them in large quantities for reasons yet unknown to Harry. Maybe later, if he had the time, he'd research it but now was not the time. First he had to complete his journey.

A short nod of thanks to the man at the desk was given and Harry left the establishment.

Outside he ran into some he hadn't expected but was clearly waiting for him.

He knew her. He had seen her often with Daphne.

"Tracey Davis," he murmured.

She looked well. Healthy and well dressed. Her colours on the other hand…. her red was in distress. Her orange stressed and her green too pale to be normal. On second thought, she wasn't well at all, Harry realised. How did she find him? She was weak, that meant she was here as prey. Whose prey was she? … He had a hunch.

Tracey didn't expect to find him. She had half expected this to be another game Bellatrix was playing with her. Harry was a monster, a psychopath, but he was the only one left who could save her from this perverse fate that had trapped her.

"Harry," she breathed, her eyes wide. "You left Hogwarts."

The terrible memories flooded her mind's eye and rage filled her again. He was a monster, she wanted to scream. He deserved to die.. she wanted to stab him until there was nothing but a bloody pulp of flesh left. She wanted him to replace her as Bellatrix's pet. He was the one who had stolen her freedom.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He didn't need to look at her colours to tell she was plotting something. He wasn't surprised though. Everyone he had ever come in contact with wanted to kill him or cage him.

"I destroyed it," he said nonchalantly. Luna was special. No one was allowed to return to Hogwarts.

"I see," Tracey forced out. The rage was blinding but so was the fear. He could crush her with barely a thought. She had to be careful. "Can we talk?"

Another conversation, but with a feeble mind, Harry thought dryly. His curiosity won out over his impatience. "Sure," Harry agreed, "Let's talk." He wondered if there was anything she had to say that would interest him. "Lead the way."

Tracey smiled feebly and nodded. "There's a quiet pub down three alleys. Come on."

Harry followed silently and observed her colours. She was calming down. The intensity of her fear dimmed and her yellow and blue began to pulse. She was scheming and it annoyed him. He never did like being part of someone else scheme.

"Is there a library around?" he asked.

Tracey was startled. "A what?"

"A Library," Harry repeated patiently.

"Er… yes. It's actually close by."

"Lead the way."

Tracey knew a command when she heard one. She turned right.

Behind her, Harry grinned. That had been fun. Her red was now spiking. Her fear was returning. He increased his pace and stepped in beside her. "How did you end up here?" he asked.

"You're an asshole. That's how I ended up here," she bit out.

Harry was taken aback. That was sudden.

Tracey stopped and looked at him with hard features. "Look," she hissed. "I don't want to talk to you. I fucking hate you. But I got no choice. I have information you need. Get me out of here and i'll tell you what you need to know. So what's it going to be…" she couldn't resist adding an insult. "…. you monster."

"No." Harry was blunt. He didn't care much about her information. He was merely curious to know how the Desert had affected her. It was different for everyone. The Desert consciously created a maze for the mind. It was the maze that changed for each soul. he had realised. It was his labyrinth rune structure that had make the connection with the source. The source was interpreting his runes the way it chose. It was possible if he analysed the way it affected people, he could find a pattern. A process unique to the source that could help him reach it faster.

Tracey trembled. "I never expected you to say yes. If you want to leave here alive, you're going to hear what i have to say.. so, again… what's it going to be?"

Harry grinned. Looks like the Desert had improved her guts. "Lead the way," he said with a mocking gesture. He could easily pull the information out of here. He had a lot of options… torture, mind reading, being the popular choices. But there was something else he wanted to try.

His observation of the succubi had shown him they could manipulate the cores of others, specifically the orange. They charged it to an extent where every other rational thought created by the rest of the colours in a human was overpowered with the desire implanted by the succubi. Harry wondered if he could replicate it.

Tracey his prey now. If Black wanted her back, she was going to have to come fetch.


The Library, Avalon.

Harry was quite impressed with the library of Avalon. From the outside it was a small, circular, unassuming building made out of red stone. It had no entrance. You had to walk through the walls, and once inside, his mind was blown. It was still the same size, a few wooden tables and chairs bunched close to each other in the centre, but all around, everywhere else… books floated neatly as if in a shelf but there nothing. The rows were stacked atop each other and Harry's eyes kept going up and up, eyes getting wider at the apparent endless roof, that stretched on to a dark infinity with books in an invisible, immaterial shelf, bonded to the heart of the building.

The magic was pure white and hummed with an endless deep serenity.

"Oh my," Harry whispered.

"It's amazing isn't it," Tracey said softly, her mind free of thought and at peace under the influence of the magical library.

"You don't know the half of it," Harry laughed. "Actually, strike that. You know nothing of it."

And just like that her fury returned. "Just sit down," she snapped. "Think of a book and it will come to you."

She didn't have to tell him. He saw it in the magic. He felt so close to the source. It's wonder felt real. It's wonder would not be gone if the truth was made real. It was the truth Harry was looking for. And a Truth that he would never find in the world of human nature.

A book drifted down, like a feather in a downward spiral, attracted to his thoughts.

He smiled and carefully plucked it out the string of magic attached to the shelf. The book would return when he was done with it. It was written in the magic.

He grinned to himself and gave a passing glance to a woman seated and reading on one of the tables, as he followed Tracey's lead and sat at the table furthest away.

"What book is that?" Tracey asked, curious, despite her simmering rage.

It was hundreds of thin parchment sewn into a black leather cover. There was no title on the cover but Harry could see it. "The birth of the Universe," he said softly.

He put the book down on the table and leaned back with a relaxed sigh. He folded his arms and looked at Tracey with piercing eyes.

"Ok then. Talk," he commanded.

"Bellatrix," Tracey started and was immediately cut of by Harry. "She's coming after me isn't she?" he said knowingly.

"Yes," she replied tightly. What did he know that she didn't?

"It was inevitable," Harry said. "She's addicted to power. To be more specific, having power over others, power over the world. Her method is unabashed seduction. And the idea of having power over me is irresistible."

Harry grinned. "If she comes at me again, it's going to be a fight."

Tracey couldn't help it. She was impressed. She now saw what Daphne saw in him and desired to make her own. Tracey scoffed in her mind. Did Daphne really thing she could control him?

Harry saw her colours dip towards jealously and wondered what the girl was thinking.

"You're absolutely right except for one thing," Tracey said dryly. "It won't be just Bellatrix coming at you. She has friends just as strong as her and just as mad as her who will come at you too.

"Now, I know you're powerful. Probably powerful enough to destroy this island. But you're not strong enough or smart enough to escape from their underhanded methods of winning a fight."

"Interesting," Harry murmured. This was a good time to try out attempt at colour manipulation in another person. "So in simpler terms, I have to be smarted than them."

"Or, you protect me and I show you a quiet way out of here."

"Tracey," Harry said softly, turning his eyes to the book and opened it. The words looked English and written using an ink quill. It to him a moment to realise, the magic ended with the cover. The parchments were real and some one had worked hard to create this book. "Do you know why Daphne hung around me?"

"Because she had the hots for you?" Tracey said sarcastically.

"It was because she knew I could see right through her. And she also knew that I didn't care about what I saw."

"What are you talking about?" Tracey said irritably.

"You're lying to me about something," he hissed.

Tracey felt fear and leaned back in her chair.

It was gone as soon as it came. It was her first time seeing the demon inside Harry. His indifferent nature to her had almost fooled her into forgetting the monster hiding beneath.

"But it doesn't matter," Harry added more calmly. "I don't care about running into Bellatrix and if I can avoid it… good."

Tracey's heart jumped. Was he agreeing with her? Was going to get her out of here?! "And you'll take me to Daphne?"

"We part ways at the entrance to the Badlands."

Tracey suddenly felt light headed. Could her nightmare have a chance of getting over? There was exit to the real world there as well. She could survive by herself if she was away from Avalon.

"But just in case we do run into Bellatrix and her band, there's something I need to learn."

"What is it?" Tracey asked. Did it have something to do with the book, she wondered.

"Just be calm," he said.

Suddenly Tracey felt dread.

Harry reached out with the Void and focused his attention on her orange with the will to control it.

Tracey knew what was going to happen. She had seen it dozens of times now in the bars of Avalon when Bellatrix took her around. Was Harry going to sink that low! she cried in her mind.

Harry felt a rush of intense emotions and he broke the connection with a gasp.

The feeling of being overpowered drained out of Tracey and she glared at Harry. "What the fuck are you doing, you bastard," she hissed, her voice trembling.

"If I going to run into powerful enemies. I need an edge," he breathed. He hadn't been able to discern any way to control her colours. He just felt them at their full strength. It had been overwhelming. Controlling colours was harder than he realised. He smiled. Things that were hard to achieve were worth it.

"Don't worry," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Just be calm. I need the practice and a willing subject is easier to deal with."

"You…" Tracey began.

Harry reached out to her blue ignoring her protests and stopped cold in his tracks when he felt cold metal press into his temple.

"Stop what you're doing right now or else i'm going to plaster your brains all over these books. You don't want to ruin them do you?"

It was a woman's voice laced with a South European accent.

Harry stopped manipulating Tracey and turned to face the muzzle of a shotgun. He looked past the length of the menacing weapon and into dark eyes firm with determination.

He leaned back and observed her whole. She was in a black dress wearing a large hat, tanned, had black hair tied back and a rifle slung over her back in addition to the shotgun pointed between his eyes. He noticed a pistol tucked in the belt around her waist as well but what drew his attention most was the neck line of her dress that dipped deep, provocatively revealed her breasts.

Her colours were amazing and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it earlier when he had passed by her. Everything was in balance and the white flowed through her with an intensity he had not yet come across. She was in control of it and was capable of using it to do some serious damage. Harry felt it best to be cautious.

"What am I doing?" he asked casually. Could she see colours?

"Step behind me girl," the woman commanded Tracey.

Tracey stayed put. Her breath was laboured and she knew she was in trouble but he was still her way out. "Please," she said softly. "It's not what you think."

"He was attempting to control you," she snapped. "If there's one thing I hate most in this world, it's men who think they can do whatever they want, whenever they want."

Harry laughed softly. "You don't want to test me lady," he said. "Lower your gun and leave now. This has nothing to do with you."

The woman didn't lower her gun. "I overheard you girl. You want to get out of here. I can help you."

"Are you a muggle?" Tracey asked. She didn't feel any magic from her. She had learnt to differentiate between the two in Avalon. Muggles were usually prey but this was different. Only muggles used such weapons. How could a muggle help her? Bullets were useless against magic.

"Yes I am. And I've met my fair share of wizards who thought they could tame me. They're all six feet under the ground."

Tracey still felt doubtful. Her best bet out of here was still Harry in her opinion.

The woman lowered her shotgun and slung it back around her neck and confidently took a seat next to Tracey and loudly put her boots on the table.

Her dress was attracted by gravity and Harry followed their path up her legs.

Now Harry was intrigued. This woman was interesting.

"If you want her, she's yours. But she's not leaving until I'm done with her."

"You see," she said with a sarcastic tone, "I'm going to have to disagree with that. I'm not one to interfere but when I see something I know is wrong. I stop it."

"You think you can stop me?"

"You want to try me?" she barked back.

Her white vibrated in resonance and Harry felt it was wise to back down. There was an unknown factor at play here and something told him to to test it. She was in sync with the source. Had she seen it?!

"Who are you?" he asked instead.

Tracey stared at them with wide eyes. She now realised her plans were meaningless. She should have just followed him quietly and fate would have lead her free. Now she felt trapped between two predators. She didn't believe in saviours. Not anymore. She knew the woman was not saving her. There had to be an ulterior motives. She wondered if it mattered now that she had forged letters in Bellatrix's name and sent them to the Assassins Guild. If her plan had gone according to plan, Harry would have simply followed through the path she had planned, the assassins were given false locations and when they realised that Bellatrix would get the heat. Tracey would have been scot-free.

She should have known better than to play games with psychopaths. She surrendered. Suddenly, nothing mattered. She was just a pawn.

Tracey didn't know it, but the pressure of the presence of the source around Harry and the Woman was wreaking havoc on her magic.

"I'm just a traveller," she replied. "And you're a cheap bastard," she added.

Insults, Harry thought with disdain. He decided to get straight to the point. "What do you know of the source?" he asked. He had to test her knowledge. How did a muggle learn how to channel the source with such tremendous skill?

The Woman's eyes scrunched in confusion. "The what?"

Was her control unconscious? Harry wondered.

"How did you know I was trying to manipulate Tracey's colours?" he asked instead.

The Woman looked even more confused. "Colours? Did you escape from a psych facility dude?"

Irritation simmered in him. Maybe he read her wrong. Maybe she wasn't strong at all. He was only making assumptions and his perception of her was forcing him to be cautious. He took a breath to focus his thoughts and filtered out the irrelevant.

All that mattered was the source.

He looked around. This was just a trailer. He had to find the entrance to the Badlands. It was calling out to him.

Tracey didn't matter. The Woman didn't matter. What was the simplest solution out of this annoying situation he had put himself in?

His thoughts came to a common conclusion. One that would have never come to him had be not discovered his ego in the desert.

He stood up and the Woman causally kept her palm on the butt of her pistol. "Tracey," he said, turning his attention to the confused and desperate girl. "Lead the way and I'll keep you safe until we reach the exit. Lady, you want to keep her safe, you can accompany her and make sure I don't do fucking wrong things."

"Are you being serious," Tracey asked dully. "I'm not interested in your games. I just want out."

Harry picked up the book and put it into his pocket while simultaneously enchanting his pocket into a pocket dimension. The book was his until he was done with it. That was the Library's only Law. The book had chosen him and it would not leave until the knowledge he desired was received. The magic of the library was conscious and unbiased. If he disrespected the Law, there would be consequences.

Harry turned to leave. His mind was made up. He didn't want to waste time here. A conversation here was pointless. He knew attempting to manipulate Tracey again would not go down well. It was unfortunate but not something to dwell on.

"Wait!" Tracey shouted. She turned to the Woman. "I appreciate the help but I'm going with him."

"Let's go then," she said with a smile.

Tracey's opinion on the woman began to change. Was she genuine?

Harry remained quiet and waited for Tracey to lead. Instead he focused his mind on the Woman, who walked in side step with Tracey and began to analyse her dim colours which were far in contrast against her white.

"My name's Freya by the way," she said to Tracey warmly.

"Tracey Davis," Tracey replied feebly. "Maybe later you'll show me how you got away with fucking with Harry?"

Freya laughed. "I know this old dude who's a great teacher. I'm sure he'll be happy to shelter you. He pays me for every person I bring to him."

Tracey had been right. There was always a selfish agenda.