Author's note: Hey all, haven't written in a while and this story just sort of started writing itself, so I figured I might as well share it. This is primarily a Bridge to Terabithia fic combined with the wizarding world of Harry Potter, but since this is wizarding America rather than britain I'm adopting some elements from other stories and making others up as I go. Particularly of note, I'm shoehorning the Grey Wardens from the Dresden files in as the American equivalent of Aurors, and Harry Dresden of the same series is a cameo character as well.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and some original characters when they show up, and have neither interest nor inclination to make profit off this story. It is written for pure personal enjoyment and the hope that others will enjoy it also.
It was a Saturday, and Jesse Aarons could hardly think of one that had started better. The seasonal rains had finally let up, he'd gotten his chores done early, and his beautiful teacher had invited him on a trip to a museum in Washington DC. Jess had a niggling guilt in the back of his mind that told him he should have asked if his best friend Leslie could come with them, but he ignored it and tried to enjoy himself. He and Miss Edmunds were taking a small break and resting after so much walking when the day went sour. It started with a sinking feeling deep in his gut that came from nowhere. Perhaps the cafeteria food wasn't agreeing with him, he thought at first.
Jess! Leslie's voice screamed in his mind, urgent and primal and quavering with fear and pain. Without knowing how, Jess immediately knew he wasn't imagining things and that Leslie was in danger. For a moment he despaired, knowing that wherever she was, whatever trouble had found her, he could never reach her in time to help. Something strange rose up in him in answer to the call, however, a sensation of power he'd only ever felt before in Terabithia. The power had been latent then, sleeping, but now that Jess's mind called for help the power answered.
"Jess? What's wrong?" Miss Edmunds asked, apparently noticing his distress just in time to watch him vanish with a pop as he felt himself being pressed through a long, thin tube.
The tube was unsteady and lacked direction at first, but Jess felt a power other than his own reach out and grab hold of him, guiding him towards it.
Jess's power strained as the distance fell away. He was almost there, he could feel Terabithia close, but he couldn't quite reach it. Jess surged back into physical space in the fields near his home. Something felt wrong as he landed, but he pushed the thought away and hit the ground running, through the fields and the trees to the creek where the rope swing hung. Used to hang, he corrected himself, seeing a frayed stub of the rope swing gently in the wind. Leslie! Jess thought frantically as his eyes scanned the water. Blood on the rocks and a flash of color downstream were all he saw. Jess raced after the color, recognizing it as part of Leslie's outlandish wardrobe. He hesitated for a moment when he reached the water's edge, his mind shouting at him don't do it you idiot, you can't swim! but he batted the thought aside and leapt out over the creek, trying to get as close to Leslie as possible before he hit the water.
The cold of the water surged against his skin, pouring straight through it into his flesh, his blood, his bones, and in the next moment he felt the sodden, limp form of his best friend. The icy water crashed over him as the heavy flow knocked away his footing. Jess closed his arms around Leslie as he fell, pulling her tight against him and kicking at the bottom with abandon, doing all he could to push them to shore. His shoulder scraped hard against a sharp branch, tearing through his clothes and into his flesh. Jess blocked out the pain as best he could and surprisingly it fell away, leaving his arm free enough to latch onto the branch and pull his head above water. The branch drew a line of fire down his back as he did so, making him cry out. His other arm dragged Leslie up too, revealing frighteningly pale skin and blood matted in her hair. With herculean effort, and not a little help from the recovering power surging inside him, Jess hauled Leslie up the bank.
Panting heavily for air, Jess rolled onto his back to rest for a moment and noticed with a start that there were swarms of glowing, brightly colored miniature humans flying about with translucent wings. Their high pitched childish voices were mostly cheering, a few shouting "Praise king Jesse!" and "Long live the king and queen!". Others were shouting in anger and pain from further away. Jess sat up and looked around and found they were surrounded on three sides by squogres and little men with red mushrooms for hats. The little folk were fighting them valiantly, but the enemy was steadily advancing. Several of the little folk grabbed him by his clothes and lifted him to his feet. "Help us, my liege!" Cried one of them with a little plumed hat, "We can't hold them off much longer."
Spying a heavy branch on the ground, Jess hefted it and waded into the fray laying about with the branch and trying to hit anything he could reach in the head. A particularly vicious blow snapped the branch near in half. Jess stared dumbly at it for a moment before a group of the little folk alighted on the branch, melting its form into that of a sword that felt warm and right in his hand. Jess renewed his attack, the sword turning it from a routing charge into a gruesome onslaught. Limbs parted from their owners, blood bright red and curdling black sprayed his clothes and pooled on the ground with the gore and offal. Jess's stomach flipped at the revolting sight and he nearly fell over retching. He heaved again as a redcap charged his flank. Jess lashed out instinctively, and the ugly thing's head rolled from its shoulders. A squogre pounced as the redcap fell and very nearly got a piece of his neck before Jess rolled out of the way and the squogre was beset by faeries. Adrenaline pushing his nausea aside, Jess returned to the battle.
The circle of faeries expanded as they started gaining ground with Jess's help, but the dull aches and sharp stings encroaching on his senses told him the battle would wear him down before too long. His arm started aching with exertion, so he switched hands. Swinging with his left arm was awkward, but the tradeoff for strength more than made up for it. A deep burning sting crept into the fingers of his right hand and his left calf and shoulder, pulsing in time with his heartbeat it right knee also felt swollen and stiff, making it harder for him to move.
His reduced mobility allowed the Squogres to gang up on him and surround him, pinning him down even further. It was then that some of the faeries cried out "Protect the queen!". Jess spun around, his blade carving a bloody trail as he did so, and he saw a group of the evil creatures breaking through the fairy ranks on a beeline towards Leslie. Jess shook a redcap off his good leg and hacked at his attackers savagely, trying to extricate himself to go protect Leslie, despairing of making it in time all the while.
Just as Jess's hope plummeted, a mighty bark rumbled across the engorged creek. PT was on the other bank, running swiftly. The next thing Jesse knew PT was leaping across the water, his form shifting strangely as he crossed the midway point. He grew to nearly five times his original size, his legs lengthened, and so did his teeth and claws until he was almost closer to a bear in proportions than a dog. Prince Terrian landed heavily on the near side and bowled into the intruding charge of enemies, snapping off limbs and rending flesh with his terrible claws. Jessie felt a feral grin paste itself on his face in pride at their Prince. It soon turned into a grimace as he resumed fighting, carefully falling back towards Leslie as the ring of enemies tightened. Although Leslie was safe for the time being, even the addition of the great beast of a dog did little to turn back the incoming tide of enemies.
They were almost overrun when three sharp cracks announced an equal number of new arrivals. Jess didn't know who the two men and one woman dressed in grey cloaks with armored leather padding over comparatively normal clothes were, but since they seemed to be shouting strange words and shooting his attackers with bolts of colored light from thin sticks he wouldn't question it. The whole situation was completely bizarre to begin with, and he could worry about puzzling things out when it was safe. The tall man with dark hair thrust a staff forward and shouted "Ventas", sending a chunk of the horde flying with a blast of powerful wind. He was the only one with a staff, the other two only had the short sticks. Wands, Jesse supposed, now that he was clear of enemies for a moment and had time to do any supposing. "Relax, kid." The man said with a cocky grin, "The cavalry has arrived. Fuego!" At this new magic word, a gout of fire shot from his staff and he drew a half circle, scorching many of the beasts and routing others around the flames. "Chamani, the girl is injured, and she don't look so good. Think you can take care of that?"
The woman Chamani said nothing, but crouched beside Jesse and pulled Leslie's head into her lap, whispering softly in a strange tongue, building a haunting rhythm with the stressed and unstressed syllables. Now that Jess got a better look at her, he saw that Chamani wasn't white like the other two, but was black and had her face painted white in the shape of a skull. She wasn't the first black woman Jess had seen, but suffice to say in a small insular town like Lark Creek there weren't many people of color. As her chant continued, Chamani drew from her robes a jar and a cloth doll in a white dress. Dipping her fingers in the jar, Chamani anointed the doll's head with the oil within, and soon did the same to Leslie. The woman then drew a pin from a band on her wrist and thrust it into the doll where the oil clung to it. Leslie gasped sharply and arched her back, clutching at the ground. Chamani set the doll aside and held Leslie's head gently as her chant slowly wound down.
Meanwhile the other two had apparently made short work of the remaining foes, but strangely Jess found himself more tense than before. "He's coming." Leslie whispered, and the words made him feel it too. The Dark Master was here. Jess's world narrowed to a shadow on the horizon creeping through the trees. Branches cracked, bark frosted and peeled away, and grass and flowers wilted around him, a tattered cloak blacker than black with white eyes cold and cruel. Had Jess truly despaired before? He wondered, for as the Dark Master approached all happy thoughts fled him and he found only cruel memories when his mind went searching against his will. The teasing of the other children. The oppression of Hoager, Fulcher, and Janice. How poor they were. Not having things and knowing their absence sharply. The shame of only having his sisters' hand-me-downs. His father's anger. His father's cold distance.
"Nothing... Nothing crushes us."
Leslie. Jesse held onto that thought tightly, the light of it shining within him even as the shadows grew darker and true night fell though it was surely barely past noon. The trees rattled and the ground shook as the Dark Master was joined in his approach by two huge lumbering figures with the rough shape of potbellied men. Their bodies were lumpy, blotchy and sallow skinned with long, lanky arms, and twigs, stones, and leaves clung to them thickly in patches of dried mud. One carried a fallen tree as a club, but the other was thankfully empty /em/p
Riiiiiiiiip, crack, snap
Oh. Well, so much for that. The empty handed troll ripped a tree out of the ground, roots and all, squeezing it so tightly in its hands that the wood splintered and the smaller branches fell away.
"Zander, handle the dementor." The tall man said as he squared off with the one that had just armed itself. "Chamani, we've got the trolls."
Chamani smiled at Jess as she laid Leslie back down gently and stood. PT barked and snarled at the nearest troll before charging it, dodging its clumsy swing. "Good dog." Chamani said with what sounded like a thick Jamaican accent as she raised her wand.
"Expecto Patronum!" Zander shouted, and a silver-gold lion leapt from his wand and charged the Dark Master, roaring as it went. The Dark Master flinched backwards at first, but then pressed forward and batted the lion to the side. Zander tried again with equally poor results.
"Harry, we've got a problem!" Zander said, backing away as the Dark Master closed. "The patronus isn't working!"
"What? I'm a little busy here." Harry said, dodging through the troll's legs. A quick glance told Jess that Chamani was similarly occupied.
Jess steeled himself when Zander stopped just in front of him and Leslie. They couldn't stop him. Jess wasn't sure what he could do if his saviors were useless against the shadowed figure, but he had no intention of letting the Dark Master get to Leslie.
He was close now, the full weight of his despairing aura pounding down on Jess like the weight of the world. Leslie, he thought to himself. Leslie Leslie Leslie. I don't care what happens to me, but she must live. She has to.
The Dark Master reached out towards her, or maybe towards him. It was hard to tell. Jess tightened his grip on the sword.
"I won't let you take her." Jess Snarled, and thrust the blade into the Dark Master's gut. The blade sank deeply, and then quickened in the unearthly flesh until it was unyielding as stone and Jess couldn't pull it free. The Dark Master screeched like rusting metal, like crumbling stone, like fallen trees and dying animals, like the last warm light in the universe flickering out, and drew back with an arched back, convulsing. As he drew away the sword drew back with him, pulling it from Jess's grasp. Jess collapsed backwards, keeping himself between the Dark Master and Leslie even as what remained of his strength fled him.
But the Dark Master was not vanquished by such a blow, for he soon recovered and advanced again only to be blocked suddenly by a pale woman glowing with ethereal light who materialized out of nowhere. The woman grabbed the handle of the blade stuck in the Dark Master, and Jesse felt a sudden and momentous shift of energy as she poured her power into the blade. The sound that followed Jess knew Leslie would've described as Snicker-Snack, but was really more of a snishnick. The Dark Master screeched again as he fled, shadows melting off him and leaving a great big hole where the sword had been. As he moved into the forest the light returned and the Dark Master lengthened like the shadows at dusk, stretching into the distance but leaving his dread aura lingering behind.
"Hell's Bells, what the fucking hell was that?" Harry asked, staring after the darkness that had fled over the smouldering corpse of the troll.
"No dementor like I ever seen..." Zander muttered.
"No dementor at all." The newest arrival answered in a lilting voice. "An ancient and terrible shade, These ones know him as the Dark Master. It is not his name, nor does he have one, but it is as fitting a title as any for one such as him."
"And just to round out the day, there's a fairy queen to boot." Harry muttered. "Thank you for your help, lady, but I'd really appreciate it if maybe someone could explain how this clusterfuck started. I mean, where does someone even find that many red caps and ...tusk rats, let ... trolls and big dark ..."
Harry's voice seemed to fade in and out, but Jess quickly realised it was he that was having trouble hearing, and his vision was dimming as well. If the lady answered, Jess didn't hear, for he had entered the restful realm of oblivious unconsciousness.