Worthy Of Magic

Part 36 - Primal Instincts

We must learn to stand in our darkest hours.

Time unknown

"Let's play a game."

Harry Potter had lost count of the days. He hadn't bothered to keep track after his magic had returned to acceptable levels which took about three days.

In that time, he observed resourceful muggles who figured out the limit they could travel without getting lost in one day and had wisely rationed their food to last as long as possible.

They travelled by jeep everyday with screams and war cries and always brought back those they found wandering in the desert to their stronghold.

And in their stronghold only their rules applied. There were four who were the first inhabitants in the factory after the calamity and they had been quick to adapt to the laws of the desert.

They understood the one rule that governed this new world.

There were no rules

Harry had been pleased to see that the message was understood so quick. Perhaps it was always waiting... the primal instinct to survive... waiting in all humans... waiting to be understood.

When his magic returned, Harry took his time, always hidden, understanding the magic he had dwelled in, understanding the reality that was once a dream.

The reality was so much more beautiful than the dream. Harry was amazed at the complexity of the runes that covered the sky. The runes were gold and white in colour and phased out of shape at a leisure pace. It was like watching thousands of pages being flicked through the thumb and trying to understand the million words that flashed past the curious eyes.

Harry took days and nights, spent sleeping on the roof of the factory, with handy invisibility runes, trying to understand the dynamics that governed this magic. It was a creation of the source but it wasn't the source. The experience he had had when touching the source was unlike the magic that powered the desert.

The magic of the desert was a creation of Magic and his Will that unified for an instant when the knowledge of his mother's love flooded his green.

He still felt it. It made him grin, knowing that she loved him and understanding what it felt like. The green began fading soon after. The necessity of survival brought him back to reality and his red began to brighten slowly until he felt a spark of his bloodlust return.

It wasn't enough that the muggles he was watching were surviving. He wanted them to feel pain. He wanted them to know... they were not in control... he wanted to see them driven to the desperation of surviving and then he would know whether they were worthy or not.

Whether they were worthy of magic.

A full moon night had inspired him to reveal himself.

He walked down the ramp leading to the ground floor lobby and exited the building for the first time since he got there.

There were dozens of fires burning on scavenged wood and boys and girls surrounded them. Some were in the arms of each other, igniting Harry's orange in ways he had begun discovering the day he had killed Tonks. Others were talking softly and laughing as they huddled together and shared a cigarette.

Harry's lips curled into a smile and he slapped his hands, amplifying the clap with the help of the Void.

The sound was like a screech in the ears of the near fifty inhabitants of what they liked to call – Fort of Youth.

Their habit of killing those they deemed too old had not gone unnoticed by Harry.

One of the four leaders jumped to his feet and shouted at Harry, "Oye! Who the fuck are you?"