Harry Potter has been living abroad for years. Suddenly, he has decided to return back to Britain. He now faces demons of the past and future. Read and discover as he realizes the difficulty and toll revenge has on his soul and the complexity of goi...
"Do not look him in the eye. He gone to fight you. Kill you," a fellow prisoner in Alcatraz warned, behind me.
He looked up and met the eye of the beefy criminal, eyeing him with a glinting eye. He turned back to serve food on his plate but couldn't help but snarkily reply, "He gonna kill me before breakfast?".
His plate was suddenly knocked to the ground, falling with an audible clank; the beefy criminal had knocked his plate and was now close to him: a maniacal glim in his eye.
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"You are in hell, little man—", he said, before grabbing a fistful of his hair and handing him a right hook, "—And I am the Devil," followed by headbutting him.
Knocked to his knees, Harry replied, "You are not the devil. You're just practice."
All rational thought of staying cool escaped his head and he charged into the man engaging him to a fight.
Gunshots were fired several minutes later as the men brawled in the mud. And the wardens came sweeping in, dragging Harry from the man he was unleashing his punches on.
Exasperated, being drugged he asked, "Why?"
"Protection"
"I don't need protection."
"Protection for them" Nodding his head towards the several men moaning in the mud having been thoroughly beaten by one man.
Roughly manhandled and thrown into his solitary cell, he waddled towards the far end of the wall and turned, only to find a man in the shadows.
"Are you so desperate to fight criminals that you lock yourself in to take them one at a time?"
"Actually, there were... seven of 'em."
"I counted six, Mr. Potter... or do you prefer Mr. Black."
Shocked having turned his back on the stranger, he wheeled back to stare at him.
"How do you know my name?"
"The world is too small for someone like The-Boy-Who-Lived to disappear, no matter how deep he chooses to sink." Gesturing around the damp prison cell.
"Who are you?"
"My name is merely Lacour, but I speak for Ra's Al Ghul, a man greatly feared by the criminal underworld. A man who can offer you a path."
"What makes you think I need a path?"
"Someone like you is only here by choice. You have been exploring the criminal fraternity but whatever your original intentions... you have become truly lost."
"And what path can Ra's al Ghul offer?"
"A path of a man who shares his hatred of evil and wishes to serve true justice. The path of The League of Shadows."
At the last statement, Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "You are vigilantes."
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"No, no, no. A vigilante is just a man lost in the scramble for his own gratification. He can be destroyed or locked up."
Lacour moved from his standing position and came to crouch and slightly leaned closer to Harry.
"But if you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you, then you become something else entirely."
The small monologue having grabbed all of his attention. So, entranced by it he was. He asked, "Which is?"
"Legend, Mr. Potter."
The man rose from his crouched position and walked towards the cell door.
"Tomorrow, you will be released. If you are tired of brawling with thieves and want to achieve something, there is a rare blue flower that grows on the eastern slopes. Pick one of these flowers. If you can carry it to the top of the mountain, you may find what you were looking for in the first place. And do not be alarmed if you cannot utilize your special talents, it is meant to be so."
Amused and holding a chuckle not wanting to offend the man. "And what was I looking for?"
"Only you can know that."
The men then immediately stalked out of the room, his cloak billowing behind him.
