The first few attempts were basic spellwork, trying to detect wards or protective measures. Since he found nothing, Harry proceeded to unlocking spells. There was nothing but a mild fizzle or sizzle, telling him he had struck out on all of them. Well, it would have been way too easy and absolutely not what he would have expected of his mother if a basic spell had undone the map.
So he tried combining spells.
No luck either.
xxXxx
Harry called it a day when he was too tired to concentrate anymore.
xxXxx
Bob suggested more complex breaching methods when he resumed his spell-cracking attempts.
"It might be a bit more complicated. And it's more dangerous than basic stuff," the spirit warned him. "But you have the necessary whammy power."
"The 'basic stuff' hasn't so much as made this thing shiver," Harry argued. "And 'whammy power'?"
"You always packed a lot of punch, for a wizard your baby scruff age. You wiped the floor with a lot of more experienced or hardier types before you connected with Marcone. It only got a lot more intense in the last years. And now that you acknowledged him? You are heading toward limitless, boss. Oh well. It's your head."
Dresden scowled at him, Bob's bright orange eyes flaring briefly.
It was how they started the more difficult spells, which required all of his concentration and skill, some of them almost way past what he was comfortable with.
Working complicated magic usually required either a lot of this kind of concentration that Harry had never mastered, or one needed the help of other practitioners to share the load and just handle one portion of a spell. Since he wasn't planning on relocating the whole of Chicago to another plane of existence, or banish something truly tremendously powerful, let alone call it, Harry was convinced he could do this.
He had been practicing. He had fine-tuned his skills a lot. And he was under no duress, no time pressure, nothing. He had all the time in the world to get this right.
He drew up a protective circle around his lab area, just to be on the very safe side. Bob supervised the runes he inscribed into a powerful circle.
"But much, but might be necessary," he commented. "Seeing how you're the wrecking ball kinda wizard."
Harry grimaced, but hey, better safe than sorry.
xxXxx
The first few rounds had no success, but Bob's near-endless knowledge continued to give him a list of what might work. Some of it required Harry to prepare himself, too, which was only the first of many red flags he ignored for the sake of success, but he was determined.
And actually obsessed by now.
xxXxx
He should have stopped there.
Because after something that had taken almost two hours to weave into the spell he needed, it ended with Harry on the ground, the mother of all headaches raging through his mind, and he whimpered pitifully.
The pain was terrible. He felt like he had to throw up. Everything was one big bruise.
The migraine seared through his brain, cut through his thoughts, and it overwhelmed his senses.
"Uhm, boss?" Bob asked tentatively.
Harry managed a croak, then just remained on the ground, riding out the worst of it.
xxXxx
It took him almost the whole day to make it out of his lab and fall into his bed, exhausted and still aching.
Thankfully Marcone was still too busy with some kind of complicated business thing or two, which meant late hours or even whole nights sitting with various politicians or high-ranking members of Chicago society, and no time for anything resembling a private life. It was like a game of chess, dragging on for hours, each participant trying to outwit the other, and whoever faltered would fall prey.
Marcone had never faltered before. The man was like a shark following miniscule drops of blood in a freaking ocean to get what he was hunting for.
It was about the only reason why Harry got away with holing up in his lab for days on end, surfacing only to scavenge food when his stomach violently reminded him of its needs.
xxXxx
The second attempt to break through what had to be the most complex and yet undetectable protection he had ever witnessed with highly complex spells was met by moderate success. Well, it was a success that he didn't end up with a migraine on the floor.
It still hurt. Especially between his eyes, but at least he could still catch a clear thought. Sure, the world faded out around him once or twice, but hey. He had had worse.
He couldn't access the contents of the ruby, though.
xxXxx
Bob devised new methods to find the key and the keyhole.
"It can't be that hard," the spirit muttered. "She secured it, but it shouldn't be impossible. She gifted it to you. You must be the key."
Harry massaged his temples, willing the aches away. "We tried just about everything, Bob. I only get slapped around by the insane amount of warding."
Bob hummed. "It protects itself. But she wanted you to have it."
Harry sighed. He looked at the ruby again; he wouldn't give up.
xxXxx
He gave up temporarily when a new attempt had him black out after a blazing agony had raked over his mind, the world around him narrowing down to just a pinprick of reality, and then winking out of existence.
Waking up was like dragging himself out of the deepest pits and he so shaky, he was unable to get off the floor for what felt like hours. His ears were ringing, his vision fogged or tilted, and Bob made no sense. He heard his voice, but not the words.
His mind was on fire, each breath hurting, each heartbeat a million times louder than before. His very brain seemed to throb with the pulse.
This had been a truly bad idea. Really, abysmally bad.
Time to find another approach, he swore to himself.
xxXxx
Harry Dresden finally gave up when after a day of preparations, of even swallowing some vile potion that would enable him to use his Sight on the ruby to see if there was a combination lock hidden within the inanimate object, ended with a minor explosion that actually shook the building.
It also shook him.
The shield he had instinctively pulled up around the ruby and within the fraction of a second saved him from being crushed by what had to be some kind of gravitational force that tossed the lab and nearly punched him through the wall with one blow. The protective barrier held and he really didn't want to think about what would have happened to the house, the block, maybe even the whole neighborhood, if not for the protection.
Panting, the ruby encased in a brightly glowing bubble, he sat on the ground, ears ringing, a steady pounding hammering through his head. The room was coming in and out of focus, and he was starting to feel nauseated.
Oh, wait. That pounding… Someone was hammering against the door for real. It wasn't just in his head. He staggered haphazardly to his feet.
"What the fuck, Dresden?!" Hendricks exclaimed when Harry managed to wrench the door open.
The red-head looked wildly around the lab, then his eyes tracked over the disheveled man who was watching him with a slightly concussed expression. Hendricks had his gun in one hand, all of him radiating readiness to confront whatever could have breached the subbasement because a certain wizard might have accidentally opened a portal.
"Uhm, hey, I… nothing happened?" Harry tried, still feeling off-kilter.
"The house shook! I wouldn't call that nothing, even in Dresden-speak!"
"I kinda miscalculated."
Hendricks stared at him and if looks could kill, Harry would have already died three times over. He knew this would get back to John. It would most definitely get back to him.
"I contained the blast," he continued.
"I knew the lab was a bad idea," the bodyguard growled. "You have a penchant for blowing things up or setting them on fire."
"Nothing happened!"
The glare silenced Harry and he found it quite a good glare, considering.
"Did something happen?" he inquired because, hey, the house was still standing and he didn't have to put out any fires. Big plus, really.
Hendricks growled again. "Know any fancy spells to repair what spilled out of the cupboards? Flic of the wand and reparo?"
"That's a different kinda wizard and Harry," he muttered. "And no."
"Too bad."
"You're a Potterhead?" Harry asked with a mischievous glint. "Doing research? Didn't take you for the young adult kind of reader."
Yes, if looks could kill…
Hendricks turned on his heels and stalked off.
Harry stayed where he was, feeling exhausted and achy. He finally glanced at his lab and groaned. It was a mess.
And among the mess sat a thankfully unharmed skull with glowing, orange eyes, watching him avidly.
"Don't," Dresden said tiredly and grabbed a broom.
"Zipped up, boss. But you might want to head over to IKEA."
He glared, which resulted in Bob sniggering more.
"Look on the bright side!" he chortled. "You didn't blast yourself into the Nevernever! That would have been really embarrassing! Not that Johnny wouldn't have come riding to the rescue and dragged you back. Probably on some freaking white horse, too."
Harry tossed a book at him.
Bob howled with laughter, nearly toppling over.
xxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxxxxXxx
"You are working on the map," John remarked three days later.
While Harry had expected to be confronted by Marcone the very evening he had shaken the foundation of the building – it still stood and had no lasting damage, though the kitchen needed a lot of new dishware now – Marcone had been suspiciously absent. As had been Hendricks. Gard had informed him that something had come up, and since she hadn't elaborated, Harry knew this 'something' was nothing he really wanted to know about. Unless it opened portals and dragged forth unspeakable dangers.
He also hadn't tried anything new since then. There was a limit to what Harry was willing to do, especially since he really didn't want to bring down the house, and he had reached that limit. Further experiments would have to be moved to a safer location.
Harry blinked. "Uhm?"
It got him that patient, knowing look. "Didn't you deem it too dangerous?"
"Yes?"
"But you are trying to access it."
"Well, kinda?"
John looked like he wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he simply sighed. "How bad were the attempts?"
Harry shrugged. "Nothing blew up for real?"
"I have it on good authority that there was a minor earthquake registered in the area. A few car alarms went off and we need new plates, cups and glasses. Among other things."
"Uh… put it on my bill?"
"What about yourself?"
Surprise shot through him and he looked into the pale green eyes, seeing nothing but barely veiled worry and a lot of exasperation.
"I'm good. Really. A headache, nothing more."
A blinding, mind-numbing headache every single time. His brain had felt like puree for almost the whole day and Harry hadn't left the lab, just curled up and hoped not to die.
Marcone studied him and Harry knew he was probably reading between the lines. He was very adept it; a pro.
"But no success?" John asked neutrally.
He sighed, shaking his head. "Nope. It's like a code no one has a key to. And I tried some pretty heavy decoding stuff. It either doesn't react at all or repels what I throw at it."
A wry smile graced Marcone's lips. Harry rolled his eyes.
"I didn't blow up the building! Or set it on fire! And if I had known how strongly it reacts, I would have chosen a different location! I will take further attempts somewhere else, John."
"While I laude your safety-mindedness," and yes, the sarcasm was clear to hear, "I wish you wouldn't endanger yourself like that."
He was very close to just sticking out his tongue, but he was too professional to give in to the childish notion. There was a teasing light in John's eyes and he knew he was perfectly well reading him.
"I'll be better prepared the next time!"
It got him a sigh. "There will be a next time," Marcone muttered. "Of course." He rubbed his fingertips over his forehead, as if trying to ease the lines. "Does there have to be a key?"
Marcone gave him that mildly inquisitive expression that told Dresden he had the man's full attention by now, that his brain was going through options and possibilities. While he had no grasp on magic like a practitioner, John Marcone approached any problem like he did mundane ones.
"Well, I hope… because if my mother left this for me, why give me something I can't use?"
Marcone appeared thoughtful. "Your magic doesn't trigger it?"
"Well, it triggers something, but that's a migraine of epic proportions," he said moodily.
"You might need something else to activate the map, something you don't have just yet."
Harry leaned back, trying to hold back his frustration. He had tried so much already. Spells, potions, various triggers in form of different gem stones, powders and liquids. He had placed it into a specially created circle, had drawn runes and tried sigils. Nothing had so much as given him even a scrap. Just the headache. If it was keyed to him, it didn't show it in the slightest. It was just a ruby on a golden chain.
"How can I be expected to find it if I don't know what it is?"
"Family heirlooms?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. When I was placed with the state I had nothing. My magic hadn't manifested yet either, so no magical objects."
Marcone pursed his lips. "How sure can you be that this is your mother's pendant?"
"Lea wouldn't give me a fake!"
John hummed. "But maybe your mother handed a duplicate to her."
He shook his head. "I can feel it's magical. Something is in there, but it's always moving away from where I try to apply a key."
"You won't give up." It was a fact. He didn't even ask.
Harry met the pale green eyes and shrugged. "Would you?"
Marcone smiled. "No." He looked thoughtful. "Working with the premise that the ruby is the real stone and that the necklace is your mothers, why did the Leanansidhe give it to you now?"
Harry shrugged.
"So, what changed, Harry?"
The question threw him. He blinked, then managed, "Uhm…"
"Why now and not years ago? She made quite an entry to prove a point. She tested me, then us. So what changed to say, three years ago? Or five? Or longer?"
Harry was silent for a long time, then his eyes narrowed briefly and he finally looked at Marcone. "You. I've got you now!"
John smirked. "You had me over five years ago, too."
Harry scowled. "You bullied yourself into my investigation and tried to strong-arm me into cooperating with the mafia. I didn't have you! I was actually trying not to have much to do with you!"
"We met, Harry. We met and we shared the soulgaze. That was the moment you had me and I had you. If you hadn't been so obstinate, we might have started and finished what took you five long years to accept."
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. "Well, we didn't," he muttered despondently. "But we always ran into each other! You stalked me in a very creepy way and you were always, always right there."
"More or less. Mostly you tried not to ask for my help, then grudgingly accepted it anyway. You kept insulting me, my men, my organization, refused further aid, then came back for more." Marcone leaned back, looking smug. "And you kept refusing everything I offered."
Harry stared at him.
The calm green eyes reflected amusement and the man's mouth quirked in a brief smile; so brief, it might have been wishful thinking.
"Until you didn't and accepted me, Harry. That changed, only that. You consciously accepted me as your counter-weight and counter-balance. You acknowledged what I am for you and to you. You and I finally happened."
Dresden's eyes were wide as saucers and he was truly having trouble comprehending what John was saying, what he was laying out for him in detail. He finally shot to his feet and started pacing restlessly around the room, hands raking through his already tousled hair. Marcone let him, aware that the nervous energy had to go somewhere.
"N-no! No way! She… she couldn't… my mother couldn't have known! How… should she… My magic hadn't manifested when she died… and even if she had bet on genetics and all… She couldn't have known about the depth of my abilities! Or that I would one day need and find my shield… John, that's insane!"
Marcone watched the frantic pacing calmly. "But possible."
He shook his head and stopped abruptly. "Insane!" Harry repeated. "Absolutely insane! You are the key?"
"Possibly."
"But…"
John rose fluidly, gracefully. "Is it worth a try?"
Harry swallowed. "I… don't know. It might be dangerous."
"More dangerous than throwing spells at it on your own and hoping for the best?" Marcone asked with a mild frown. "Or blowing up the house?"
"Well…"
"Where is it, Harry?"
"Still locked up. You really want to do this?"
"Yes."
"You are certifiable!" he exclaimed.
John's smile was almost terribly shark-like. "Lead the way, Mr. Dresden."