Joining Forces

Prologue

PRESENT DAY

A beautiful woman with dark hair stepped into her home. She had just arrived from the supermarket with heavy bags of groceries during the dark, rainy night. The woman locked the door behind her and turned on the light to her living room. She gave her cat a scratch between the ears and went about to check her mail and answering machine. She got the usual mail: Bills and magazines and junk mail. There were only two messages available; one from her so-called friend Carmella DeMato and the other from her boss at her publishing job, Mr. Marx. She frowned.

Why is it a woman as beautiful as me cannot get a man? She thought bitterly. Vivencia was beginning to be come what she called a "peon". She was no longer an extremely wealthy woman.

Vivencia was used to having money. Fur coats, house-elves at her becking call, beautiful dresses, parties...Vivencia sighed. She wanted her father so he could spoil her rotten again.

This beautiful woman's name is Vivencia Spellman. Vivencia was thirty years old. She had dark, brown eyes, tanned manila skin, lips that were full but so red with the blood-red lipstick she put on everyday. Her hair was also dark and very wavy. Vivencia's curvy, hourglass figure did get a lot of complements at her job, but not the kind she wanted to hear. They were always telling her she was too fat or too dumpy. Vivencia sighed as she remembered those comments. She wasn't married, although she'd tried to start dating, but the men didn't meet up to her standards. They were either too dull or too...good. Vivencia liked her men to have a dark side. All the men she had dated made her stomach churn.

The night Vivencia found out about her father, she was shocked beyond belief. A strange man came to her home and told her the news of her father five years ago.

Vivencia remembered that cold Wednesday night, when the man came to her home...

FIVE YEARS AGO

Vivencia sat down in her spacious, Victorian mansion, sipping red wine while sitting by the fireplace. She and her cat, Toulouse, sat together on the large black sofa.

Vivencia groaned inwardly. Another night alone, she thought. She knew her father, Desmond, was probably out womanizing. He was known to have five girlfriends at one time, she'd heard.

Vivencia didn't care about her father out gallivanting and screwing around. Her mother was long dead anyway. The only thing she cared about was waiting for her dad to come home so he could give her whatever she wanted. Vivencia found that putting on a fake pouting, puppy-dog look could make her dad melt. Desmond gave his daughter whatever she wanted.

Vivencia smirked. I think I'll give him some wine so he'll become so drunk, he'll give me a new fur coat, she thought deviously.

Desmond never hurt Vivencia; physically, mentally or emotionally. He was hardly ever home anyway to even think about it. His favorite thing in the world was himself. He was a vain, selfish, coldhearted snake...and she loved him.

Vivencia set down her wine glass and put Toulouse down on the plush velvet rug. She walked to the window to see Desmond was anywhere in sight. He wasn't around anywhere in the neighborhood. Vivencia grimaced. She was getting to be quite annoyed and worried. Where was he?

A knock at the door startled her. Vivencia smiled. Finally!

The Spellmans' house-elf, Dankie, opened it.

"Who is it, Dankie?" Vivencia asked.

"It is a man outside the door waiting for you, Miss. He says he wants to talk to you," The house-elf replied meekly.

"Let him in," she replied. Maybe he's someone Daddy hired to give me a new house or that expensive broomstick from Austria. OOOH! She thought giddily.

When Dankie escorted the man to the sitting room, Vivencia's face fell. He didn't look like a salesman. He looked more like a beggar. The man was dark-skinned with chocolate eyes. He was wearing nothing but black, from head to toe. He had a scarred face that made Vivencia wince slightly. What was this man doing in her home? She thought snootily. She sent Dankie away.

The man stepped inside without waiting for Vivencia to invite him in.

"May I help you? What it is you want?" Vivencia asked snappishly.

"Are you the daughter of Desmond Spellman?" he asked bluntly.

"Yes. I am," Vivencia said. "Who are you?"

"I'm Warner Langley. I'm a member of the Destroyers. I was sent here by an anonymous person telling me that your father, Desmond Spellman, is gone."

Vivencia looked even more annoyed. "Gone? Gone where? My dad is one of the richest men in the world. He has bodyguards, plenty of estates around the world to stay in. How can he be 'gone'?" She asked, laughing.

"According to this person, he was defeated."

"Defeated?" Vivencia asked, snorting. "Oh, that's rich," she replied, trying to hold her giggles.

"By a child-a little girl," he said, looking at her with a stone-hard expression.

This was sounding even funnier. Vivencia laughed harder.

"What's so funny, ma'am? This is serious. This isn't a laughing matter."

"My father, defeated by a child? You really expect me to believe all this?"

"I know it may sound funny and amusing, but it's true. Please, ma'am. Let me explain."

Vivencia rolled her eyes. "Pray, do tell," she said, wiping the tears out of her eyes.

Warner sat down on one of the soft chairs and began to talk.

"Well, ma'am, it all started back at your father's home in the Appalachian Mountains. I think you know that your father had been proclaimed the Greatest Warlock in all the land."

Vivencia smiled proudly, just thinking about it. It sure pays the bills, she thought, smiling smugly.

"Well, duh," she said, rolling her eyes. This guy is such a waste of time, she thought. She tapped her foot impatiently. And what the hell does he mean by 'has been'? My dad is the Greatest Warlock of all time!

"Well, he was told the same thing everyday by some kind of magic mirror that he was the only greatest warlock in the land until it all changed. The mirror predicted that a child would take his position away and-"

"This child you keep talking about. You're not making this up, are you? What do you want from me? Money? I'll give you a hundred Galleons if you leave me alone or my father will-"

"Ma'am, please do not interrupt me or you'll suffer the consequences. Let me finish my story and then you can believe it or not; I don't care. But don't interrupt me again," Warner told her strictly.

Vivencia rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she replied. "Anyway, please finish your story," she said coldly.

Warner glared at her. What a spoiled brat, he thought. It's probably just as well that her father is gone, but then again, he reigned supreme and the Destroyers need a new leader, even if it is someone like this spoiled twit, Warner thought. He nodded and continued his tale.

"Anyway, your father planned to use the Mystic Abyss to destroy the child so he could keep his position, but it didn't work out that way. The child would become the Greatest Witch if she could do what no witch or wizard could do. And that was to befriend a spirit."

Vivencia rolled her eyes. This story was becoming absurd, but somehow, she felt drawn in to keep listening.

"What else?" she asked in a bored voice. "What's the Mystic Abyss?"

"The Mystic Abyss is a realm that can only be opened by an extremely powerful witch, wizard, or warlock. It has been used by all to get rid of all things human: magical and Muggle alike. It's been around for centuries."

"What about the child? Huh? Who's this little crumb snatcher?"

"Well, the child and her family went into hiding for awhile. They were really smart and clever, I heard. They kept from using any really extreme spells that could keep your husband from finding them. But they weren't smart enough. Somebody used them and then they had to find another place to hide. Your father found them and planned to destroy all of them. Each and everyone of them."

"And?"

"He didn't succeed, sad to say. The witch and her spirit friend had him in the Mystic Abyss instead. I'm sorry, ma'am. He's no longer here."

"What do you mean by 'no longer here'?" Vivencia asked.

"The witch-the child-is now proclaimed The Greatest Witch."

Vivencia sniffed. "How can that be possible? If my dad is gone, I'm still around, aren't I? I'm related to him. Shouldn't I be The Greatest Witch?"

"It doesn't work that way. According to The Oracle Mirror and by law, the greatest witch or wizard has to complete a grand feat that no other would do. This girl's friend is a ghost. No others have become friends with them after centuries."

"Who is this girl? Where can I find her?"

"The person who was spying on them said her name is Wendy. Wendy Punkle. She lives in the country with her three aunts. Their names are Gertrude, Gabby and Fanny. Here is a picture of her, if you'd like."

Vivencia snatched the picture. She stared at the moving picture of the girl named Wendy. She had blond hair, brown eyes, and a smile that could light a room. She winked brilliantly.

"Where did this picture come from?" Vivencia asked coldly.

"From The Quill Gazette. Look, to prove I'm telling the truth, here's the article about the girl here."

He handed Vivencia a piece of crumbled newspaper from his pocket.

Vivencia snatched it from him and hesitantly read the article:

THE GREATEST WITCH

Levva Quillton

Today, Wendy Punkle, an 11-year-old witch from a small town in California, has now been crowned The Greatest Witch. Yes, folks. You heard right. If you're wondering what happened to Desmond Spellman, the warlock that has been feared by witches and wizards throughout America for decades has been defeated. Punkle did what no other witch or wizard can boast: She befriended a ghost, whose name is Casper. More than likely, magical beings and spirits have not become friends or even been friendly with one another. Casper is an extremely friendly ghost who lives with his three uncles who used to be rather un-friendly with him. Stinkie, Fatso and Stretch are their names. They could not be reached for comment. According to Casper; their favorite hobby is scare people, who they call "Fleshies". Anyway, back to Punkle.

Punkle resides with her three aunts in their secluded home in the country, but not for long for Punkle.

"We're thinking about putting Wendy in a private wizarding school where she can learn more skills in magic. We're all so proud of her," Gertrude, one of Punkle's aunts replied.

Punkle is now shopping around; trying to decide what school she wants to go to.

"I don't know what school I'm going to yet. I can't wait to go so I can meet new friends and learn new things. But I also want to get away from the spotlight. Being The Greatest Witch is...I'm still me. So I don't want anyone to treat me any differently," Punkle said.

It seems that Wendy, the Good Little Witch, is on her way to a good education and a title that only she can claim.

"I can't believe this. There must be a way to change this! There has to be!" Vivencia cried.

Warner nodded. "I can understand what you're feeling. I agree that this child has no right to this title. She's undeserving."

Vivencia threw the article in the fireplace. "My father has to be set free. Isn't there a way to free him?"

Warner shook his head. "I don't know any spell as of yet that could free him. But I do know someone quite powerful. Have you heard of Tom Riddle?"

Vivencia shook her head.

"Well, how about Lord Voldemort?"

Vivencia gasped. "Yes," she gasped. "I've heard of him. Dad always praised him, but he never met him. What about him?"

"Well, he's into something similar himself. He was defeated by a child, too.Only now, he's back to destroy the one who made him lose his power in the first place."

"Do you know the boy's name?" Vivencia asked.

"His name is Harry Potter and he lives in England with his aunt, uncle and cousin. Voldemort killed his parents when he was just a baby. When Voldemort tried to kill him with the Killing Curse, it backfired onto Voldemort and left Harry with a scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightening bolt. He's been called The Boy Who Lived by the wizarding world since then. He's been living with these Muggles for close to seventeen years now. He goes to a private school in England when he's not with the Muggles called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Vivencia nodded impatiently. "Yes...But what does this have to do with the girl? I want to free my dad so we can destroy her, together!"

Warner scowled. I can't believe how silly this girl is! "Don't you understand? If we can, somehow, contact Lord Voldemort about the situation that's arouse, he can help us find a way to destroy both Wendy Punkle and Harry Potter!"

"But how?"

"I'm sure he knows how to free Desmond from the abyss. He's powerful - more so than Desmond. He wants to rid the world of Muggles, half bloods, and Muggle-borns. Potter is a half-blood and so is Punkle. That is more than enough reason to destroy both of them."

"Yes...I agree. Purebloods are superior. In fact, I'm a pureblood myself," Vivencia agreed, nodding. "But how is this plan going to work? How can you get in touch with Voldemort?"

"I know him more ways than you know. Right now, first, we need to find out what school Punkle is going to be attending. Then when we find her, we'll contact Voldemort. He'll find a way to get rid of her and Potter and then free your father. An abyss can't stop him."

Vivencia grinned. "But I want to kill her myself. When I do, then I'll be the Greatest Witch!" She laughed wickedly.

BACK TO PRESENT DAY:

Vivencia shuddered as she remembered that moment. It was five years later and still no word from Warner.

Time is running out. I'll never get my mansion! She thought. That ugly, scarred-up man had better do what he promised or I'll kill him myself!

She scowled when she picked up the letter made by Muggle Post that had Warner's name on the envelope.

Ugh!

She opened it and quickly read it:

Vivencia-

I know you must be peeved with me, but don't worry. I've been doing some spying of my own. I've found Wendy Punkle. She attends Eizzelbell Academy of Magic in Green Grove, California. It's near Los Angeles. I've also found Potter as well and gotten contact with Voldemort. Voldemort's plan is to have the two meet up together. How, we don't know. But don't worry. Plans are underway and everything will work out. Both Potter and Punkle are in their seventh years, just so you know.

See you soon.

-Warner

Vivencia smiled at the thought of what Voldemort's plan was. Forgetting her anger and annoyance at Warner, she thought about finally capturing the Punkle girl. She couldn't wait to find that girl so she could get her hands on the title of being the Greatest Witch. Then she would buy a new mansion and never have to worry about working for Muggles again. Vivencia took out her wand and pointed it at her tacky-looking wood wine cupboard. Now was the time for celebrating. She cast a spell to open the cupboard and took out her chipped wine glass and a bottle of cheap red wine.

She poured herself some and sat down, motioning for Toulouse to sit by her. He purred softly as Vivencia scratched between his ears.

I'll get my hands on that girl, she thought while looking at the tackiness of her apartment. And then I'll get revenge on those who scorned me. No matter what.

AN: The name 'Vivencia' is pronounced V-VIN-SEE-A. Just so you know. I'll have an update real soon. I'm also working on another story as well.