San Francisco, 1948

Seventeen year-old Penny Johnson watered the flowers on the front porch of what is known in present day as Halliwell Manor. Though she couldn't use her powers to do the work outside, she didn't mind; she liked flowers. She hummed a little tune while working, a slight smile playing on her lips. This caused the demon who was watching her to grin.

He was a powerful demon who went by the name Armand. He looked approximately eighteen or twenty years old, though his real age was certainly much older than that. He wore a sleeveless, cuttoff denim shirt over a skin-tight white teeshirt. His shirt was tucked into black pants, which rode high on the hips as was the fashion of the time. Like his shirt (and most of his wardrobe), the pants were tight; this went against the fashion of the time. But, the 1950s were on their way and he knew what styles they had in store; he had seen the future, which was why he was watching Penny so closely from across the street.

As a demon, he was known as The Necromancer. He was very powerful, and ruled in the underworld with a large following because of it. He could smoke-teleport, cast spells, manifest and corporealize should he need, and-most importantly-have dominion over the dead. He gained his power by absorbing the spirits of magical beings. He could control any spirit and make them do as he wished.

He knew he was powerful, he had every confidence in his reign and abilities-more than any normal man (or demon). But, he wanted something to make his power absolute, to make sure that beyond a shadow of a doubt no demon or witch would ever bother him. He had often taken the spirits of lesser demons, but he dared not mess with a demon greater than he; there were few who were greater, and he did not want to mess up the order of things. So, what was left to do but find a way using witches?

He had ventured around in the realm of the underworld until he found a demon who could call up premonitions. This demon gave him the help he needed-gave meaning "gave up" under duress from The Necromancer. After the demon brought Armand into his visions, his spirit was put to good use as absorbed power. But, while in the premonitions, Armand looked through many things, searching for anything that would help him towards greatness. He saw many gatherings of witches in the future-birthday parties, marriages, and run-of-the-mill Sunday outings-but, one instance caught his attention over all the others: a wiccaning in the line descended from Melinda Warren.

He had heard of the line of witches descended from Melinda Warren, they were said to be some of the strongest witches ever to come into powers. The youngest descendent, Penelope, was to have a baby in two years and summon all the spirits of the family matriarchs to give her baby their blessing. All these spirits would be what he needed to rise to ultimate power.

She disappeared back into the house with her watering can.

"Tonight," he thought. "I'll make my move tonight."

It was a Friday and she usually went out on Friday nights while her parents took care of Wiccan business. Whenever she decided to go out, he would be ready.

...

Later that evening as dusk fell, The Necromancer saw a blonde carrying an odd shaped bag walk up to Penny's front door; he assumed it was whoever was fetching Penny for a night out. He cast a cloaking spell on himself so she would not be able to sense he was a demon. He turned to his left and walked down the street a ways until he heard the door to the manor open.

"Goodnight, mom! I'll be back late," Penny called back into the house. Armand walked a little further before crossing to their side of the street. He started walking in their direction, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Facing him, the blond was on left and Penny was on the right. Just as they were about to pass each other, Armand took a little step to his left, knocking his body into Penny gently enough to be an accident but with enough force to make her drop what she was carrying.

"Hey!" she protested. Armand quickly got to work.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to do that." He crouched down to help her pick up the bag that was almost identical to her friend's. He made sure their hands touched and that he caught her eye; their eyes locked. Armand could feel the sparks. "I must've misjudged my closeness, caught of guard by your radiant beauty," he said in a cheeky flirtation appropriate for a 1940's greaser. And, after all, he thought it was an appropriate compliment that she was worthy of. They rose at the same time, hands still touching.

"Oh no, it's fine, i'm sure it was my fault," she said with a blush, obviously thrown off guard by his advancement and his devilishly good looks; she felt the sparks.

Armand put his hands in his pockets and stepped towards her. "Believe me, it wasn't your fault, sweetheart," he said, giving a small grin. "So, where are you two lovely dames off to?" he asked. The blond spoke up:

"Can't you tell?" she snubbed, holding up her almost triangular bag towards him. As if that answered his question. Armand decided he didn't like her.

"Um, no, I guess not." Whatever the bags were, he didn't know; he had never seen any human carrying one before. He inwardly cursed himself for not knowing more about humans and their daily routine; he should have done more research.

"Oh, we're just going skating," Penny said as she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear. Rollerskating, of course! Armand knew about that, it was a human past-time. But, he had never seen a skates-bag before, which he now assumed was the purpose of the lumpy packs they carried. He tried to get his brain back on track.

"Well, since i have so rudely knocked your equipment out of your hands, why don't i treat you to the Malt Shop tomorrow night?" He bit his lip, pretending to be nervously waiting for an answer, which was half true; he needed her to say yes so he could pursue more interaction with her.

"Oh, i don't know..." she said. She gazed at the pavement, and Armand actually thought it was cute the way she dropped her eyes in embarrassment.

"Ah, please," he fake-pleaded. "Say 6 o'clock? I can just meet you there," he offered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the little shack that occupied the end of the street.

She smiled at him, and there were those sparks again.

"Well..." He could see her going over it in her mind.

"I'm buying. Y'know you want to," he trailed off. He was really cracking a smile now, but mostly because he enjoyed the annoyed, pouting look of her friend, obviously jealous of the attention.

Penny drew in breath. "Okay!" she squeaked in agreement.

"Cool, cool," Armand said, flashing an even bigger grin. "Then i'll see you tomorrow, 6 o'clock." He clicked his tongue and pointed at her, then turned on his heal to saunter back into the night.

Penny tried to get some farewell out, but the words were catching in her throat. "Goodnight!" she finally called after him, hoping he didn't notice the delay. Armand just chuckled and turned his head back to her without halting his gait. He raised his hand in farewell and pocketed his hands in his denim cuttoff; he was victorious in the first steps of his plan.

Armand lay stretched out on his bed with his fingers laced together behind his head. He sighed with contentment, reveling in his easily obtained success. He let his thoughts wander, replaying the events of the day. He laughed as he remembered the pout Penny's friend had worn as he ignored her.

"Even if i was really going for the earth-girls, i wouldn't go for her. She's a waif, especially compared to Penny..." He remembered Penny's brown hair in a high ponytail bob on her head, the pink and blue pinstripe pants she wore, high-waisted and tight, hitting right at her tiny waist to accentuate her great hips. Her blue blouse with a sailor-style collar, tied at the waist, unbuttoned just enough to get a peek at her cleavage. Her great smile, eyes, legs, hips...

"...ass," he added to his thoughts. Then he bolted, sitting up.

"Wait..." he said out loud. Why was he focusing so much on Penny? She was just a tool he was using to get what he wanted. Then he thought with reassurance, "It's fine." There was nothing wrong admiring her figure. But, then what was this extra feeling that came along with his admiration?

"Nothing, it's stupid," he said aloud again to the empty room. She was cute that was all. And there were plenty of hott she-demons here in the underworld to look at and get his mind off of her, ones that were more attractive...except he couldn't think of any female he actually considered more attractive than Penelope Halliwell.

"Aaaaargh!" He gave a yell and threw a candelabra across the room in anger, causing it to break into several pieces. He was being distracted; he wanted to keep his eye on the prize, the end-goal.

He heard footsteps approaching.

"Everything alright, sir?" asked his servant.

"Yes, fine," Armand said. This lesser demon had once tried to steal from the necromancer, so he had enslaved and sentenced the fool to an eternity of servitude in punishment for what he'd done. The demon moved to take care of the broken candelabra. "No, leave it. Leave it!" He caused his servant to jump, startled at the outburst. "Get it later, I just want to be alone," he mumbled.

The demon gave a bow and left, and Armand flopped back down on the bed. He gave a great sigh. He spoke to himself, in his thoughts, "I am The Necromancer. I absorb spirits. I am evil. Penny-Penelope-is good. I need to befriend her and stay in her life so she can marry that fool who becomes her husband, Allen."

Allen. Allen Halliwell. The father to the next witch in the Warren line, the one who gets to be the lucky man, the one who gets to swoop in, make his move, and take Penny-legs and all-for his own.

"I'M NOT JEALOUS!" he yelled, releasing a surge of energy. The mirror across from him shattered from his outburst. He heard footsteps approaching and he gave a sigh, lowering his head to rest in his hands.

"Sir, are you sure there is nothing i can help you with?" the demon asked, fear in his eyes. The Necromancer gave a scoff.

"No. Really. Go." he ordered. The demon turned to leave. "Actually, no, wait. There *is* something you can help me with..." The servant turned back towards him as he raised his hand to point.

"Body from spirit, tear and rent. Take spirit from body, yet keep both present." He had cast the spell which separated a spirit from its body without sending the ghost into the spirit realm.

The demon's eyes widened in fear, realizing what had been done. "Master, wait! Noooo!" His screams disappeared as his spirit was absorbed by The Necromancer. Armand sighed with pleasure as the process ended, feeling rejuvenated, though the weakling didn't provide him with much strength. He jumped happily back onto his bead and relaced his fingers behind his bed.

"I am The Necromancer. Demons and warlocks and evil beings of all manner love me and bow to me. I am a demon with a great multitude of followers. I am a demon of strength. I am a demon who does NOT fall for witches."

He closed his eyes with resolution. When he reopened them he glanced to his left, where the still-functioning body lay. "Oops," he said. The spell didn't actually kill its victims, just severed the spirit. The body would remain functioning until something caused it to die. He decided to give it to one of the vampires who had gained his favor. A nice treat, it would keep the people loving him.

He closed his eyes to get some sleep. He had a dreamless sleep that night. Dreamless, except for someone walking away in the distance, someone with a high ponytail that was chopped short, bobbing as she walked away from him. ***

The next day, Penny's mother was suspicious as she watched her daughter sweep the kitchen floor. Penny was dancing. She knew her daughter to be a congenial, generally happy person. She didn't mind chores, but she didn't like them-and she certainly didn't dance over them.

"So," P (that's what she went by) started to inquire, "you going somewhere with Robin?"

"Nope," said Penny, continuing her dance.

"Then did you win a car?" asked her mother with a laugh. Penny shook her head with a giggle. "Did you spontaneously get a new power?"

"Nope nope nope!"

"Is it-"

"I'm just happy, Mom!" Penny cut her mother off, increasing her grin. Her mother looked at her, then gasped.

"You've met a boy!" She exclaimed with a sly grin.

Penny, halting her dance for the first time in ten minutes, turned on her heel to face her mother. "No!" she deflected, defending herself. The she thought. "Well..." she started, reforming her answer, "I sort of did. But i don't think that's why i'm happy!" she said.

"Ooooh!" her mother squealed. "What's his name, what's he like?" she badgered in that girl-talk sort of way.

"Um..." Penny had to think her answer through. Her mother fought demons, warlocks, and all sorts of dark magical creatures. She wasn't sure she'd approve of her dating someone who fit the "bad boy" profile to a T. Between the earring and the black pants, Penny thought she'd leave several details out. But, her girlishness still fueled her answer. She spoke with a quickened pace and a higher pitch. "I ran into him-literally-on the street. He felt bad, so he's treating me to the Malt Shack. He's tall, dark, and handsome. His name's Armand." She gave a little sigh.

"And does 'Armand' have a last name." Penny's mother asked with an edge of caution to her tone.

"Mom," Penny said, pleading. Penny's mother's heat sunk when she saw the look in Penny's eyes. P knew it was hard to not have a normal life, to have overprotective family constantly on your case, to never be able to fully live like other girls...

"You know, he's not taking you out because he feels bad-he thinks you're cute!"

Penny's expression changed instantly, forgetting the troubles of having powers and a family of wiccans. She blushed and giggled, "You really think so?" she asked, imagining the "what-ifs," what if Armand really did like her a little? What if the date lead to a relationship. If. What if he didn't mind that she had freaky powers. If.

After the giggling subsided from both her and her mother, Penny went back to her chore, deep in thought about the "what-ifs," and swept sans dancing.

emotions.***

***So ya, we've flashed back to start the story of how Grams and Armand met! I hope you like it! The next chapter is the date between the two, I thought it was fun posting about the Necromancer, a life-loving high-maintenance, expensive guy go on a regular date. I can just picture the guy that is usually all about Salisbury steak eating a burger in a little shop. Eh, he loves new life experiences anyway, and Penny is there with him ;) ***

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