Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
Something was not right. There was a tension in the air, like the anticipation of a brewing storm, and Dom was almost jittery with nerves. Or as jittery with nerves as sentient constructs that had once been a rock could be, he supposed. The feeling of wrongness had settled over the mindscape not long ago, but he could not make out its cause. In the time since, he had checked the perimeter of the upper layer–the mountainscape making up ‘Rigel’s’ mind, re-affirmed that all his traps and tricks were in working order and lastly, settled down at the foot of the mountain to wait for the inevitable disaster.
Oh, he knew that disaster would come, whatever form it took, and it would be unpleasant for all involved. How could he know that? Well, because he lived in the head of one Harriett Potter, trouble-magnet extraordinaire and wanted criminal to boot. For all that it annoyed him to not know what would happen, he wanted to be useful to her (as embarrassing as admitting that was), so he didn’t grumble about being held in suspense much.
He was just contemplating the things he could have been doing instead–turning the sand in front of the pyramid red, one grain at a time, for example–when it happened. It turned out to be a person being catapulted through mists and landing none too gently just a short distance in front of him. He had immediately sprung to his feet, but didn’t attack–Dom had grown quite accustomed to the feeling of Harriett’s avatar and recognized her right away.
Momentarily relieved, Dom was sure she would be able to explain that strange lingering sense of foreboding. However, after her violent entrance, Harriett’s avatar did not stand up, but remained motionless on the ground.
It was now that Dom felt the first inkling of true alarm, but he had no way of knowing how this situation would spiral out of control. Harriett was not only completely still–she was unconscious, something that should really be impossible in the mental realm. While her avatar had no bones to break and no blood to spill, Dom was quite sure his Mistress would not have survived the fall had it happened in the physical realm, judging by the unlikely and painful-looking arrangement of her limbs.
“Rigel?” he called out, shrinking himself down to her level (he wasn’t about to crouch down like a human limited by their mortal form). As he’d already expected, she didn’t as much as give a twitch and her eyes remained shut. Only the faint rising of her chest told him that she wasn’t completely lost–he had always been quite disdainful of her insistence to continue breathing in the mental realm, but now he was glad she’d brought the annoying habit over from her real body.
In all the eons Dom had spent doing what he did best (aka gently guiding a worthy soul to greatness and power), he had never, not once, encountered something that would make a person’s mental avatar pass out. It would have been very convenient if he could simply knock out intruders, but that was just not how the mental realm worked.
However, he couldn’t say he was surprised that it would be Harriett to involuntarily discover how to do it. And if his guess wasn’t completely wrong, it meant that Harriett’s physical body was probably in danger. An idea on what to do started to form in Dom’s head and he let out a little evil-sounding chuckle, an amusing practice he’d picked up from some long-ago master, who’d otherwise been a very disappointing human and even more underwhelming wizard.
If he could make it work, it would be the most exciting thing to happen since he’d entered Harriett Potter’s head. However, he could not immediately act upon his thoughts. As it was, these days Dom had to exhaust every other option before he could justify to the vows Harriett had bound him to that this was truly the only viable course of action. She’d tasked him to work in her best interest and had laid a ridiculous number of restrictions on him.
To start, Dom had to make sure that Harriett was truly insensible and could not be roused. He called her names again, both real and borrowed, louder than before. Nothing. Then he pinched her and when that failed to produce a reaction, he poured his best approximation of near freezing water over her head. She remained still and silent. Well, he said aloud and hefted her into his elongated arms, this should be proof enough. Dom let his form swell to the height of an average human, conveniently taking Harriett with him as he switched the layers so that they stood in front of her space room.
Despite copious amounts of temptation, Dom had never actually tried this before without her permission. He hoped that having her unconscious form with him would be enough.
As clearly as he could, he said: “The Award Ceremony is happening in Paris and Harriett Potter just entered her mindscape, but her avatar is unconscious. I'm unable to wake her and I have good reason to believe that her physical body is in danger. I need access to the Space Room to figure out the circumstances in which this occurred, and–if necessary–temporarily…” Dom paused and savored the next words, “take over her body and bring her to safety.
My name is Harry Potter and I am not a boy.”
The door swung open.
Dom stepped inside.