Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Sleepy Hollow. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am just a writer, working on my skills with characters and worlds that I love.
Note: I was re-watching the first season of Sleepy Hollow over the weekend and this idea just started buzzing around in my head. I tried to let it go but the thought would not leave me. What would a grizzled, world worn, Harry Potter do in a town like Sleepy Hollow when everything goes to shit? Try to hook up with the hot Lieutenant of course, troll Ichabod, and smoke some demons along the way. I'll admit, this pairing mainly comes about from the massive crush I developed for Abbie Mills when I first saw the show as a teenager.
Note: To make this story work with the crossovers I've had to advance the timeline a bit. So Harry started his first year at Hogwarts a bit later than in the canon. When the story starts he'll be twenty-five, having been gone for ten years of his time. But only two years will have passed on Earth since he followed after Sirius in the Department of Mysteries.
Note: Due to the episodic nature of the show, these chapters will more than likely be shorter than those of my other stories.
Note: For those that think I do too many stories, I will remind you all that I do this for fun. Thus, if a fun idea comes to me I will be writing it down. Enjoy.
Note: This story will also feature some input from the show Bones. What can I say, I'm a big fan of Seeley Booth, and I'd like to have him featured in at least one of my works. The fact that a Bones/Sleepy Hollow crossover episode actually occurred helps me in that regard because they apparently exist in the same universe already.
Note: While a certain aspect of Harry's character is inspired by the Ghost Rider movie, he is not a Ghost Rider himself. I simply really liked Sam Elliott's character design, both human and demonic, and decided to incorporate it a little bit. Plus the idea of a new rider of the apocalypse tickled my brain.
Note: I'm going to shamelessly use the multiverse traveling to explain Harry's skills. What can I say, it's a good method for flashbacks. I'm also curious how many references to other fandoms people will pick up as I go.
Chapter One - A Wizard Walks Into A Bar (Or at least he wishes he did.)
"Are you sure about this Harry?" A brunette in a white blouse and blue skirt asks as she gazes into the abyss she has created. The warped hole through reality itself into another plane of existence. This isn't the first time she's done this, and certainly not the last. Especially for the man she is ferrying.
"Yeah, Elizabeth. It took a long time but we finally found the right place." The voice was distinctly British, though a slight drawl had made its way into the tone, and the man speaking was tall at over six foot-two in height. His midnight hair fell loosely around his neck and he wore a pointed goattee. The clothes he wore were faded blue jeans, a light but durable flannel shirt with a blood red bandanna around his neck, a black trench coat, and of all things a black gambler's cowboy hat on his head. He was holding her hand softly in his own.
"But the way they treated you… why would you want to go back to that?" She asked.
He gave her a look with those emerald eyes that made her heart melt. "I don't want to go back to them, or even England. I only want to go back to my world. Being away, no matter how comfortable I got elsewhere, there was always that feeling that I didn't belong. You know?"
"I know." And Elizabeth did. She'd felt that way for as long as she could remember. Being kept cooped up in that tower for all those years, until her mysterious savior had come tumbling out of one of her experimental portals. From the moment they'd locked eyes there had been a connection between them. She now knew it was love, but at the time at least it was definitely understanding. Physical, and emotional, born from someone that had suffered the fate of being a prisoner as she had.
There had been no need for words at first. He'd broken her free of her chambers, helped her escape the guardian bird, and then aided her in defeating Father Comstock. They'd been together ever since. Hopping from dimension to dimension. Fighting when necessary, relaxing when able, and learning the natures of each other as best they could.
"I know you understand, Elizabeth, so if you'd like to stay here or go back to your own astral plane-" He wasn't able to finish his statement before the girl had thrown herself into his chest and locked lips with him.
"You don't need to finish that sentence, Harry. You know I'll follow you anywhere. I won't feel that lack of belonging again because I'll be with you. Now if you don't want to go back to England to fight What's-His-Name, then what do you want to do?"
Her man thought about it for a moment. "I'm tired, Elizabeth. Ten years of combat, war, and seeing things that no person should see… it takes a toll on a man. I shielded you from what I could, but I know you saw enough. I think I'd like to relax. Find a quiet place. Help some people here or there." He tips his hat with the fingers of his free hand, "Maybe even put this hat down."
Elizabeth shuddered at the thought. "I don't know why you keep that thing."
"It has its uses, love. Now are you ready?"
"I am."
"Then let's go." Harry turned to his vintage Triumph Bonneville motorcycle, sat comfortably on the leather seat, and smiled as he felt Elizabeth side mount it from behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Even after all this time she insisted on riding 'like a lady'.
"Hey, if we're lucky we might end up in a bar this time." He joked.
"You wish, buddy. I'd say that's unlikely."
"We'll see." With that he revved his engine to life with a burst of power, and then launched them both through the circular opening in the air… only to land in the middle of an office somewhere with an angry crowd of suited men screaming at him and pointing guns in their faces.
Calls of, "Get down on the ground!" "Where the hell did a motorcycle come from?" and "Freeze! FBI!" lit the air.
"Shit. Not a bar. Liz you might want to duck into my shadow for a bit."
Long used to following orders on a dime, Elizabeth melded into the floor space his shadow occupied and disappeared from sight. This caused a fresh round of uproar and the wizard suddenly found himself tackled to the floor and handcuffed. He didn't fight it. What would be the point? These weren't his usual brand of foe. They weren't crazed cultists, enemy combatants, or demons. No these were defenders. Men and women of the badge. There weren't a lot of things Harry respected anymore, but the will the stand against evil and injustice with a badge and a gun was one of them.
A bit of rough handling and fingerprinting later saw the man sitting alone, handcuffed to a table in an interrogation room. His hat lay flat on the surface of the table beside him. He'd been left alone, but he had no doubt his captors were watching him through the one way mirror on the wall. They were clearly leaving him alone to see if he'd crack in the solitude. Too bad for them he'd been mastering the waiting game since before he'd learned to walk. Living in a cupboard taught one patience, if nothing else.
So he tapped his foot for a while. He hummed, whistled, and eventually started singing a bawdy tune a friend had once taught him about a big breasted barmaid in Mid-world. It didn't take too much longer after that before an agent with slightly visible colorful socks and a large belt buckle slammed open the door. Harry smiled at the sight. This guy had style.
The other man stalked over and sat down in the chair across from him. A moment later he was followed by a shorter woman in a smart suit carrying herself with a no-nonsense attitude. The dimension traveler found himself liking her too. She didn't seem to have an ounce of bullshit in her body. Kind of like McGonagoll.
"Please for the love of god stop singing." The man groaned as he opened a file in front of him. "You're just… the worst."
"I'm afraid god's got no love for me." Harry replied with a toothy grin. "And Liz has long told me I sound like a drowning cat when I sing. That ain't anything new. Can I ask who's interrogating me and why exactly I'm under arrest?"
The man stared at him for a moment as if he couldn't understand the words he'd just said. "I'm special agent Seeley Boothe, and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan. You're under arrest because you somehow infiltrated the J. Edgar Hoover building. With a motorcycle. In case you missed it, this is one of the most secure buildings in the country and no one caught a whiff of you until you were on the top floor. As you can imagine, that has caused quite a few people a great deal of worry."
"Hm. Perhaps. Out of curiosity what is the year?"
"The year?" Brennan asked.
"The year." Harry confirmed. "What is it?"
"2002."
"Hm. Only two years. I guess it could have been worse."
The two investigators shared a look before Booth started his questions. "What's your name?"
"Harry James Potter."
"Where are you from?"
"England. Surrey originally."
The doctor cut in, "No. That's not right. Your accent isn't native to Surrey."
"I've travelled a bit." The goateed man responded. "Been gone a long time."
"And what led to you sneaking into this building? More traveling?"
"Nah. I'm just looking for somewhere to be. Wound up here by accident."
Brennan looked as if she were about to question that statement, but Booth interrupted her with a raised hand. He'd just picked up on something from his prisoner. The laid back, yet careful, way this man spoke. His posture that spoke of ease, yet had the ability to move sharply at a moment's notice. The way the pupils of his eyes were constantly darting from him, to Bones, to the mirror, to the door, as if he were checking every possible area of threat without conscious effort. It was leading to one conclusion.
"Where'd you see combat." Seeley asked calmly, grinning a bit at the jolt his words caused in the other man.
The traveler stared him right in the eye and said, "Everywhere you can imagine, and a lot of places you can't."
Seeley nodded. "I know the look. Soldiers like us, we can't turn it off."
"You served?"
"I did. Sniper. Not let's get back to-"
Before Booth could continue his line of questioning, the door to the room burst open once more and three men and a blonde woman with suits and earwigs marched inside.
"Special agent Seeley Booth," the woman in the lead said, "I'm agent Wilson with the Secret Service. I have orders to take your detainee into my custody for a proper debriefing."
"Bullshit! He snuck into the FBI!" Booth protested.
"And his method for doing so is classified."
"No. I don't buy it." The man said as he got to his feet and put a hand on the butt of his gun. Let me see a warrant."
"We don't need one for this transfer. Mr. Potter is under special circumstances that place him under our jurisdiction."
"And why is that?"
As the others were speaking, a delightful idea popped into Harry's head. "Why don't you put that hat there on my head and find out." He suggested, angling his nose at the object in question.
Agent Wilson looked at the object in question and suddenly got a panicked look on her face as she rushed to say, "I don't think that's a good idea."
But now Brennan was interested. "This hat?" She picked it up and examined it from all sides for a moment before declaring, "This is authentic, not replication. Wherever did you get it?"
"Nowhere you'd believe. Now put it on my head and all will be revealed."
"Mr. Potter, they are not cleared to know anything pertaining to you or your world!"
Booth, tired of the runaround, couldn't see any harm in the act so he snapped the hat out of Brennan's hands and leaned over the table to plop it on Harry's head.
The man smiled his usual toothy grin and said, "Buckle up, Agent Booth and get ready to ride on down the rabbit hole." With that, he expanded the reaches of his mind into the depths of his hat's deeper than expected interior, and pulled on the power contained there. At once the small, shadowed, room was filled with crimson light. Harry's body was engulfed in the glow as his hair and goattee became solid flame and his coat seemed to writhe with living fire. His eyes held the greatest transformation however, as the formerly green retinas had turned blood red.
He stared at the faces of each person present, but when he landed on the shocked, slack-jawed, visage of special agent Booth, he stopped and smiled. "I knew you were a good man." Then he reached up and removed the hat from his head. The light, and the flames, vanished. Plunging them all once more into the dimness of the artificial lighting.
Booth was openly gaping, Brennan was stuttering as she clearly tried to come up with a rational explanation for what she had just seen, and Wilson was groaning as she palmed her face in her hand.
"Mr. Potter, do you realize how much paperwork you just created for me? Those two were not cleared to know about the magical world, but they both have too high a clearance to be obliviated. They'll need to be fully briefed now!"
Harry shrugged, "Good, then do it while you ask your questions. I saw enough of Booth just now to trust him, but I sure as hell don't trust you. I'll only answer you if he's present. I'm guessing you're from MACUSA?"
She sighed, "No, but we work closely with them. We really are Secret Service but we're the branch that handles magical issues."
Brennan scoffed, "Magic isn't real, Agent Wilson. It's a silly superstition."
"Then how do you explain our man on fire here?" The blond demanded, effectively shutting the forensic anthropologist up. She turned back to the man in handcuffs. "Mr. Potter, my government is very interested in the story behind your disappearance two years ago, and an explanation for the rumors of the dark lord Voldemort's return. We have been demanding answers from the British ministry but they have so far refused to cooperate."
"All right, but I want something in return."
She raised an eyebrow, "I have been given leeway to negotiate these answers. What do you want?"
"Well these cuffs off for one. Then I want asylum in the US and citizenship. If you can promise me those things I'll even tell you about my first time." a hand reached up out of his shadow and slapped the side of his head lightly at that, and he chuckled at the looks of his interrogators. "Don't mind, Liz, she's a bit touchy about that kind of stuff being discussed in public."
"B-Booth!" Brennan squeaked, "D-D-Did a hand just come out of his shadow?"
"Yeah, Bones, I think it did." In contrast, Seeley was taking this news rather well. "This explains more than a few strange things I saw in the field when I was sniper." He mused before turning to fully face agent Wilson. "You heard the man. Does he have a deal?"
Wilson took a moment to consider things. Events had certainly spiraled beyond what she would typically have thought of as control, but the demands were still well within the bounds of what she was allowed to offer. "Very well. The asylum I can grant you easily, but the citizenship will take a few weeks to process. Don't worry though, you'll get it."
The former boy-who-lived smiled as he leaned back comfortably in his chair. "Good. The first thing you need to know is that while only two years passed here, I was gone for ten. Time passes differently between the dimensions after all. You see on the day I disappeared I was involved in a battle with death eaters in the ministry of magic's department of mysteries. My godfather, who was falsely incarcerated for twelve years, was hit with a stray curse and fell through the veil of death. I was so maddened by grief that I followed him without a thought. Sadly, in all my travels I never found him."
From there, Harry told them everything. He explained the early years of his life. His Hogwarts tenure, including being forced into a tournament designed for only of age wizards, and all the professors that had tried to murder him. The resurrection of Voldemort, and the subsequent activities of his followers that he knew of. Hell, he even told them about the prophecy, and explained why he didn't give a shit about it. Then he finished by giving a loose explanation for the years he'd spent between the worlds. The battles he'd fought, enemies he'd made, and people he'd saved.
By the time he was done, all anyone could do was stare. Except for Booth. That man looked Harry right in the eye, and nodded. No more words needed to be said to show he'd earned the man's respect.
"I-I was supposed to set Mr. Potter up with a cleared guardian until arrangements could be made for him. In this case his citizenship paperwork. Agent Booth, would you object to housing him for a few weeks?" Wilson inquired.
"No I would not." Seeley responded.
Wilson clapped her hands, "Good then. That's settled." She waved her hand and Harry's restraints clicked open, freeing his wrists. "Mr. Potter, it was an honor to speak with you. I'm sure we will talk more before long however."
"Just make sure you call first." Harry stood up and stared at Booth, "Now where is my motorcycle?"
Several hours of paperwork and explanations later, Harry ended up pulling the Triumph into the driveway of a rather spacious and openly designed home behind Booth's car. The agent quickly exited the vehicle with doctor Brennan behind him.
"Welcome to our home, Mr. Potter." Brennan said as he turned off his engine, earning a strange look from the wizard.
"You live together?"
"Oh, we're married." The doctor said. "I simply didn't take his last name so I can understand why you're confused."
"Right." Harry swung himself off his bike, and a moment later Elizabeth rose from his shadow to curtsy to the shocked couple. "This is Elizabeth. For all intents and purposes she's my first wife."
Booth gave him a strange look. "First? You have more than one?"
"I did. Two others. They… passed on a while ago."
Brennan gave the man a sad smile and said, "While Seeley might not understand the urge to take multiple partners, I've studied human culture long enough to get it. You have my condolences for your loss. Both of you."
Elizabeth stepped forward and took the other woman's hands in her own. "Thank you, Dr. Brennan, for opening your home to us. I swear we won't be an imposition if we can help it. And please, just call us Harry and Liz. The Mr. and Ms. things gets old pretty quick."
"Only if you call us Booth or Temperance."
"Or Bones in her case." Booth cut in with a smile. "Now come on in and I'll show you around."
The next three weeks were some of the most peaceful Harry and Elizabeth had experienced in years. They went on long walks, rode around DC and saw the sights. Brennan even gave them a tour of the Jeffersonian so they could actually see what her job looked like. It was impressive to say the least.
However two things came through as the most enjoyable for Harry personally. First, making love to Elizabeth, peacefully joyous, and happy with the feeling of completeness he got from finally being on his home world again. Second, sharing evening drinks with Booth and swapping stories of combat on both of their parts. The things they spoke of were dark, and terrible, but it was incredibly therapeutic for both of them to get these things off of their chests. They were the sorts of events that one just could not share with their romantic partners, for fear they'd never see them the same way again.
By the end, a true friendship had begun to form between the two couples. One born of mutual respect, and eventually understanding. But all things eventually had to come to an end. As shown by the eventual arrival of Agent Wilson with a closed file in her hands.
She was welcomed inside, poured a coffee, and after a couple of sips she began to speak and pass over certain documents from the file. "Mr. Potter, you have been granted American citizenship as requested. It should be noted that your status of asylum is also still in effect, so no calls for extradition from the Magical UK will ever be considered should they come through. For the information you have provided us you have earned the full cooperation of our government."
Harry blinked, "Was what I told you that important?"
"Indeed. Thanks to you we found out Voldemort had returned and who many of his current followers were. When we cross referenced the names you provided with our current magically employed staff we found no less than ten imbedded agents with blood purist ideals and strong political and financial ties to the death eaters. They were quickly apprehended and interrogations with veritaserum proved they had been radicalized. You may have helped us stop the next 911."
"T-That's good I guess."
"Good!" Booth exploded, "That's great Harry."
"Indeed." Wilson agreed. "It is because of this success that I have been asked to help you find employment and relocation. To do so I must ask what you would like to do and where you would like to go, should you have a specific location in mind of course."
The wizard scratched his chin as Elizabeth rubbed his shoulders. She hadn't needed citizenship, she'd explained, because she could freely exist anywhere she desired. And she saw herself as bound to Harry with or without a piece of paper.
"I'd like to help people I guess, so perhaps law enforcement? As for a location, somewhere quiet would be nice."
"Hm." Wilson drummed her fingers on the counter for a moment before smiling brightly at the couple. "I had a feeling you'd say that." She flipped open her file completely and handed over two objects to Harry. One was a silver badge and the other was a postcard for a village called Sleepy Hollow.
"You have been granted clearance to work as an RA, or resident agent, for the FBI with Special Agent Seeley Booth overseeing your work remotely. Sleepy Hollow is a very quiet village in upstate New York, which has not had an FBI presence in quite a long time even though we maintain an office in the vicinity. You'd take up responsibility for the office we have there and as a resident agent you'd have the place to yourself, to handle the cases you choose and represent the Bureau. Of course, you'd also get a housing stipend along with a generous salary reflecting our gratitude. Is that agreeable?"
The wizard smiled and took the shield to clip it on his belt. "I'd say so, but I won't be wearing a suit."
Three Days Later
It had taken a few days to say goodbye to all the people he and Liza had met, as well as to the city itself, that had provided the two with such peace. Seeing the lights disappearing in his mirrors had hurt more than he thought it would to be honest. But now they were speeding along the road on his motorcycle with a badge and revolver clipped to his belt. Other than that, the only change he'd made to his outfit was removing his bandanna and placing it in his back pocket.
They'd been on the road for a little over four hours now, and if the directions they'd been given were correct, then… there! He saw the welcome sign for sleepy hollow. Hm, population of 144,000? He thought Wilson said this was a village. But that could easily be the population of a decently sized town.
They rode on for a while, and eventually stopped at a local diner where a helpful sheriff recommended they try the apple pie. True to his prediction it was delicious. They spent the rest of the day exploring the town, finding a realtor, and putting a downpayment on a vacant cabin a ways into the woods. Harry liked his privacy after all, and they paid full price on the condition that they could move in that day.
The two spent the next day decorating their home with furniture and paintings they un-shrunk from his saddlebags, and expanding the interior to fit their massive bed. (which they'd promptly used to christen their new home.)
In the morning they went to see his new office. As was typical, Liz rode sidesaddle behind him as they drove, and then melded into his shadow as he walked up the steps of the modest one story building. The two were so in sync by this point that she could come and go from his personal space with little to no effort at all. Years ago he'd turned his shadow into a portable storage space, and Elizabeth had later helped him in combat by tossing him guns, ammo, and other supplies when necessary out of it. She had herself her own office space in there too now.
The interior of the building was as modest as the exterior. There was a waiting room, a space for a receptionist to sit, a full sized office for Harry, and a bathroom and break room with a fridge and microwave. They supposed it made sense for a space that traditionally was only meant to fit one agent. They spent the rest of that day setting up their government issued computers, phones, and contact lists.
They were interrupted toward the end of the process however as a woman's voice inquired from the main entrance, "Excuse me, Sleepy Hollow PD. We got a call about a couple of suspicious individuals ransacking this place."
Elizabeth hung back in his office as Harry went to investigate. He was met in the front waiting room by an african american police officer with her gun drawn, but currently aimed at the floor. Harry took everything in about her that he could in a microsecond. She was perhaps five-four in height, with thick black hair, full lips, and bright brown eyes. He also noticed that her standard issue uniform could do little to hide the generous curves of her body. The traveling wizard-turned-agent couldn't help but think that this woman was incredibly beautiful.
Police lieutenant Abbie Mills didn't know what she expected to find when she responded to the B and E call that'd come over her radio, but it definitely wasn't a handsome cowboy. He was tall, dark, wonderfully goateed, and he wore a goddamned cowboy hat! Who did that these days. She was all set to demand he give her his name, when to her surprise, he reached slowly to his belt and pulled out a very specific government shield.
"I'm Resident Agent Potter. Newly deployed from D.C. This is my office."
Abbie gave the man a disbelieving look, "Lieutenant Abbie Mills. I've never known a Fed to walk anywhere in anything but a suit."
"I'm new, and I don't really like suits. Could you holster your weapon please? There's no need for it."
She reached out a hand, "Give me that badge first."
Harry shrugged and tossed it to the woman, who took several seconds to verify both it, and the credentials attacked to it were real, before tossing them back and holstering her firearm.
"Apologies, Agent Potter." She said formally, "I guess this place has been vacant so long that no one thought anyone professional would be taking it up. Clearly our report was a mistake."
"Yes, my posting was rather last minute. My associate and I are just setting up the place now."
"Associate?" Abbie asked, just as a brunette woman in a finely tailored blouse and skirt entered from the back room.
"Hello, lieutenant. I'm Elizabeth, Harry's secretary." She held out her hand and the other woman shook it firmly. Not noticing the strange look the brunette was giving her, as all of her attention was still on the strange new Fed. "We look forward to a healthy, close, working relationship in the future."
"Yeah." Abbie gave the woman a smile and started making her way back to the door. "I'm sure Sheriff Corban would like a word when you have a chance. We're on call tonight, but would it work for you to come by the station tomorrow? Just for introductions."
Harry nodded. "No problem, Lieutenant. It would be a pleasure."
Before leaving, Abbie just had to ask. "Where are you from? I can't quite place your accent."
The wizard gave a mysterious smile. "A little bit of everywhere, lieutenant. I'll see you tomorrow."
It was not to be however. Later that night Harry and Elizabeth were cuddling on their couch before their new fireplace with individual books open on their laps, when a sudden rapping came upon their door.
"That's odd." Elizabeth noted as they disentangled themselves from each other. "I thought one of our sticking points with the realtor was that there weren't any neighbors nearby."
"There aren't supposed to be." the wizard grumbled before donning his hat and yanking open the door. Any barbed comments or threats he was planning to make to be left alone were cut off at the start as he took in the sight of the filthy, shivering, man before him. The stranger was kneeling in front of the entrance to his cabin, leaning on the frame for support, and dressed in severely outdated clothing for the time he found himself in. Harry pointedly ignored the fact that the same could be said about him.
"Please," The stranger wheezed, "help me." Then he collapsed.
A series of quick fire diagnostic spells showed only exhaustion and mild exposure, so Harry pulled the stranger inside, set him up before the fire, and stuffed a few potions down his throat. Then he sat back beside his wife and waited. It didn't take long.
Five or so minutes later the potions had apparently done their work because the stranger, now markedly less pale than before, jolted upright in front of them.
"Where am I? Who are you? What's going on?!" the man yelled, only to be brought up short by a swift grunt from Harry's throat.
"I can't say I know mister. You just came out of nowhere. So how about you tell me who you are and we can see about getting you some help."
The other man nodded, conceding that this request was most certainly reasonable. "My name is Ichabod Crane. I woke up in a cave, about three miles from here by my estimation, about an hour ago and I've been running in circles ever since. I don't know anything else."
"Hm. Sounds like kidnapping to me." He stood up and held out his hand. "Come on then, I'll take you to the police station and they can get you sorted out."
"I thank you, sir." Ichabod praised as the two made their way out the door. Elizabeth had fallen into his shadow when the other man was not looking. "I assume you have horses?"
Harry smiled as he led his interloper over to his motorcycle. "Yes, seventy-nine of them to be exact." at a burst of his will the engine started up on its own, the abrupt roar making his guest nearly jump out of his skin. Though apparently not for the reason he expected.
"What is that monstrosity? And why is it so loud?" The man exclaimed.
The new federal agent's brow furrowed, "You don't know what a motorcycle is?"
"Motorcycle?"
"Of course." Harry grumbled as he mounted the bike. "The guy in period dress doesn't understand modern machinery. That's some fine commitment to a role buddy."
"I assure you, I am not 'playing a role' my good sir." Ichabod declared as he sat behind him.
"Then we'll know for sure once we get you set up downtown. Hold on tight to me, buddy."
Crane clearly didn't know what was going on, but he recognized a warning when he heard one. So he held on tight to the frontiersman in front of him, and merely a second later they took off down the road faster than any horse had ever carried him before. Ichabod wanted to scream, but he worried that he might swallow a bug by accident if he did. So instead he merely clutched the shirt and coat of the big man carrying him like his life depended on it.
Twenty minutes later they pulled into the precinct parking lot, and both were surprised by the multitude of flashing lights and scrambling bodies. Clearly something big was going down.
Harry found an empty space, turned off his machine, and took Crane by the arm, "Stay close to me, Mr. Crane. We don't know what's going on here, but we don't need you getting caught up in it."
"Understood, good sir. I will of course follow your lead." The two made their way inside, started filling out paperwork, and were making a good effort staying under the radar, but then… Crane just had to open his mouth.
A cop and man in a suit were walking by, and with a start Harry realized the officer was lieutenant Mills. She was saying something to the man about a horseman that had apparently killed the sheriff. She said he wore some sort of red military uniform.
"Was he carrying a broad-axe?" The strange man's cultured voice spoke up, earning an annoyed groan from his current escort. "And did he have a mark like a bow on his hand?"
Mills spun on the man and demanded, "How do you know that?"
Crane's eyes grew wide and he started muttering, "No, no, no. It cannot be." Over and over, until Abbie shoved past Harry and took his coat in her hands.
"Who was he? When did you last see him?"
Crane stared the woman down, "When I cut off his head."
One hour, and a rather strange polygraph test, later, Harry moved to the side of the room he, Abbie, and Crane were occupying and made a call.
"Hello." The voice on the other end said.
"Booth, it's Harry."
"Hey man, how's the new office looking? Small town living looking up? Sweets and Bones say hi by the way."
In spite of the situation, Harry smiled. After Booth, Sweets had quickly become his best friend in this new land. He was just so earnest, kind, and understanding. It was impossible not to open oneself up to a person like him. "Tell them hello from me to. And let Sweets know he needs to be careful with Daisy. A girl like that can break someone like him in two in the bedroom."
Booth laughed out loud. "Will do. So what's up that has you calling me not even a week after you leave. By my count you aren't even scheduled to start duty until next week."
"Right, about that. Turns out Sleepy Hollow isn't exactly sleepy. I find myself in a situation involving a dead sheriff, a time traveling Revolutionary War soldier, and a headless fucking horseman. Something wonky is going on here."
"What do you need from me?"
"You're my supervisor Booth. I need authority to act."
"Sounds like some wonky magic shit's going down. You have it."
"Thank you, Booth."
"No problem, buddy. Hey, since you called, I gotta tell you something. Agent Wilson contacted me. Apparently MACUSA and the secret service both received requests for a team of British wizards to come over here with their wands. They were denied because they refused to give a reason, backed up by veritaserum, for why they were coming."
"Is that standard procedure?"
"It is when wizards are coming from a place with a dark lord that knows how to use the imperious curse. I also got briefed on the potential use of polyjuice potion and that shit is terrifying."
"Believe me, I know. So why are you telling me?"
"Because the requester was Albus Dumbledore. Now Wilson assures me that you have no tracking spells or stimuli on you anywhere, but she thinks the temporal displacement that brought you here might have alerted the old man to your resurgence. All he knows for sure is that you are in the states. Nothing else. And no one here has any intention of giving him any more information. All the same, I thought you deserved to know."
"Much obliged. Now you go take care of that wife of yours, or I might just come down there and do it myself." he joked to the continued laughter of his friend before ending the call.
Just in time too, as the tall man in a suit from before burst into the room. He and Abbie spoke, argued, and eventually the man, who was now identified as Captain Irving demanded that Crane be sent to a local mental institution for a seventy-two hour watch while the police tried to figure out what had really happened to Sheriff Corban. That was something Harry could not allow. He'd watched that polygraph, and he'd watched Crane's face. In his opinion that man was not lying or insane.
"Excuse me, captain Irving, but I'm afraid I can't allow that. This man is a key witness in my investigation."
Irving looked him up and down, clearly confused as to why a tall man, dressed as he was, was standing around an interrogation room. "And who are you?"
Harry raised his badge and credentials for the captain to observe. "Agent Harry Potter, FBI. The new resident agent for Sleepy Hollow. This man has several signs implying kidnapping which makes him a federal case. Additionally, he was with me during the time frame of sheriff Corban's murder so he cannot be a suspect."
The captain stared at him for several moments before hissing out, "You want the nutjob. Fine, take him." Having said his piece, Irving marched out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Harry didn't take any offense. He knew the look of someone desperately trying to rationalize events that he couldn't understand.
"Crane could still have information about how Corban died, even if he wasn't responsible." lieutenant Mills noted.
In response, The wizard gestured for the woman to look at the man in question. His head was lolling to the side in exhaustion. "You think you can get anything meaningful out of him like this, lieutenant?"
She sighed and shook and her head. "Good point. Look, can you bring him to your office tomorrow at least so I can speak to him when he's rested?"
"Why do you think I kept him from the psych ward? This guy definitely knows something, and if it can help you find the person who killed your friend, then all the better." At her look he said, "You're too passionate about this case for Corban to have only been your superior."
Abbie was silent for a second as she weighed her words before simply saying, "He was there for me in a pretty dark time. That's all I'm saying."
"That's all that needs saying. I'll see you tomorrow."
The rest of the evening was spent driving Crane back to his home and dealing with his pestering questions about the new time period he found himself in. When the man heard how much the wizard had paid for his cabin he nearly became apoplectic. Ranting and raving about inflation and taxation and how the founding fathers would be ashamed. It took a warm bowl of stew, made specially by Elizabeth for him to fall asleep. And the next morning the two (as far as Crane knew) made their way to Harry's field office. The revolutionary markedly quieter than he had been before. The wizard guessed the reality of his situation was finally sinking in. Everyone he had ever known was gone.
It wasn't a surprise that Abbie was waiting for them in her car. But it was definitely strange to see the pensive and considering look on her face as she looked at Ichabod. When they reached her she said, "Last night the town reverend was decapitated." At Harry's look she said, "I know it wasn't Crane. But after I left the scene I investigated Corban's office… I found dozens of files and recordings. He was investigating this town. The things he found… Over one hundred witches put to death. Witch covens in the populace. Hundreds of unsolved cases that went ignored including murders and disappearances. Demons and monster sightings that were corroborated by historical records."
"What are you saying, lieutenant? You believe our resident time traveler's story about a headless horseman?"
Abbie frowned up at the taller man. "Look, I'm not sure what to think. But the man I saw that night certainly looked like he was missing a head, and whatever else is going on, Corban thought something bad was happening in this town. That it has been for a long time. All I'm saying is that I'm willing to look into Crane's story and see if there are any grains of truth to it."
Behind them, the man in question gave an elegant bow. "You have my thanks, lieutenant. It is a pleasure to know that someone as strong of character as you was emancipated."
Mills frowned, "What?"
"Emancipated. From slavery." Ichabod looked confusedly at Harry, "Was she not?"
The wizard sighed with frustration. To Mills he said, "I've been filling him in on the history I know since last night. We didn't get to the emancipation proclamation yet."
She unlocked her vehicle. "Then I can fill him in as we go."
"Go where?" Crane asked.
"You said you woke up in a cave. Seems like a pretty easy detail to verify. Show us where it is and we can go from there."
Harry nodded and put his hat back on his head. "Good idea, lieutenant. I'll follow behind you two." He gestured to his bike and the woman nodded her understanding.
Ichabod first directed Abbie to Harry's cabin, as it was a starting point he knew. Then he took them both on a merry jaunt through the woods. Although merry might not have been the word the two law enforcement officials would have used. The process of backtracking and rediscovering their witness's trail took several hours, and by the time they finally arrived it was nearing dinner time. Harry hated missing meals. It reminded him too much of his childhood.
Finally though, they found it. A hollow in the side of a rocky ravine that led into a depression in the earth. The three descended into it and came upon the sight of what Harry could only call a ritual chamber. It had all the hallmarks. Ancient candles burned down to the nubs, jars containing reptiles and other animal sacrifices, and a central dais to channel power, in this case clearly buried in the earth. Until Crane had burst up out of it.
"Yup." Harry nodded. "I believe you, Crane."
"Thank you, agent Potter." The posh man gave him a grateful smile.
"Just Harry is fine, Ichabod. I'm not used to this 'agent' thing yet and it sounds weird."
"Very well then, Harry."
"Wait, wait, wait." Abbie cut in as she approached the pair. "This doesn't prove anything. For all we know, Crane planted all of this himself to give credence to his time travel story."
"I don't know." Harry saw a glint in the dark, and picked up a gold embossed book. A quick perusal showed it to be a bible of some kind, with a ribbon stuck in a particular section. "His story has more correlations than holes. Hm, revelations eh? Ichabod the witches that put you here had a strange sense of humor."
"Witches?" Both his current partners asked.
"Yeah. There are many ways to practice magic, but here in this chamber we have ritualistic drawings, language, and sacrifices. All hallmarks of witchcraft."
Abbie stared at him. "You're insane."
In response, Harry held out a hand and with a twitch to the reserve in his hat set it on fire. As the others gasped and backed away, the new Fed said, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
"Shakespeare does seem rather appropriate here." Crane noted as he stepped forward and poked the flaming limb. "It does not burn?"
"Only those I wish for it to." He looked at Abby, "Typically the Secret Service handles matters of magical security in America, but I was given clearance to do so as well. For obvious reasons."
"S-So Crane's story, Corban's notes, all of it is real?"
"Seems to be. Damn, but I was looking forward to living in a quiet town."
All conversation was halted however as Ichabod suddenly lurched in place, his spine going ramrod straight, and his eyes glazing over. The fit only lasted a few seconds, but when it ended the man fell to his knees, gasping as if he'd run a marathon. "I know what the horseman is after." He managed to get out.
Having seen something similar with an old gunslinger on Mid-world, Harry asked, "You had a vision? Who was the sender?"
"My wife, Katrina. Her soul is being held in captivity, but she had enough energy to send for me."
Abbie pulled the man to his feet, "That's all well and good, but what did she have to say? What does old headless want?"
"His skull. I took it on the battlefield and apparently my wife's coven hid it in plain sight."
"Where?"
"You said the reverend was murdered last night? I believe he was the guardian of the skull, because it's apparently buried in my wife's empty grave."
"Well it's been a while since I last went grave robbing, but I'm sure it'll be easy to pick up again. Come along, all." Harry waved the others out of the cave after him.
It was a rapid dash the three made back to their vehicles, and then a high speed rush to the church in question, but it was still night before they made it.
"Hurry!" Crane urged. "Katrina said the sun would kill the horseman, so the night is his domain. For all we know he could be on his way here now!"
"Alright, Ichabod, easy." Harry remarked as he followed the man into the graveyard with a pair of shovels. "Did your wife tell you anything else about this guy?"
"She called him the horseman of death. One of the bringers of the apocalypse."
Against all expectations, Harry laughed at that statement.
"I hardly think that is an appropriate reaction, Harry." Ichabod noted.
"Yeah, I thought you believed this guy's story and all his mystical mumbo jumbo." Abbie noted.
"Oh I do. Just trust me, this guy isn't the horseman of death. I think some messages got crossed in the cosmic communication network. More likely this guy is just a demon's avatar. He's probably a figurehead meant to represent the rider of death cause they couldn't get the real thing."
His words made the others break into quiet thought for a while as they searched for the right tombstone. As providence would have it, Crane found it, and after a moment of depression as he saw his wife was supposedly burned for witchcraft, the two men started digging as Abbie kept watch with her gun drawn.
An indeterminable amount of digging later Harry's shovel struck metal. He and Crane hurried to wipe away the loosed dirt and gravel to reveal a cylindrical canister. When he moved the leather cover out of the way they were presented with the floating visage of a skull.
"Looks like we found it." Harry looked Abbie in the eyes, "This enough proof to nail the coffin for you?"
Before Abbie could answer, a shrill horse's shriek cut through the night, immediately followed by the boom of a shotgun. Abbie ducked behind a tombstone as the shell impacted the ground she'd previously been occupying, Harry launched himself across the ground to get behind a tree, and Ichabod crouched down into the hole. Clutching the skull to his chest.
Harry risked a look around the trunk of his temporary defense and saw with his own eyes a man with no head stalking between the tombstones with a shotgun continuously firing towards Abbie. Well he couldn't have that.
The wizard pulled his revolver from his hip holster, channeled a bit of fire from his hat into the barrel, aimed, and fired. The enhanced bullet hit true with the benefit of years of practice, shattering the barrel of the shotgun to pieces and causing the unused shells to explode back against the body of the monstrosity, flinging him down to the ground.
"Crane! Get over here!" Harry yelled, covering the path with his weapon as the thin man scrambled out of the ground to reach his side. A quick glance to the tombstones showed a distinct lack of lieutenant Mills however. "Where's Abbie?"
"She went over the perimeter wall for cover."
"Smart. Come on." Harry grabbed the other man's shirt and dragged him off into the mass of gravestones, working his way ever closer to the parking lot. It was still several hours till daylight, so the best option was to get to his bike and try to outrun that monster.
Too bad the man without a head seemed to have enough brains to head them off with his horse and block the exit.
"What now?" Crane asked, still clutching the cylinder tightly to his body.
The dimensional traveler took a second to take in the scene, and groaned at the conclusion he came to. There was only one way out of the parking lot. They could try to run back to the graveyard to hide but that horse would only run them down.
"Liz, you might want to hop out of my shadow now. I'm going for a ride."
To Crane's utter surprise, the woman he last met in the cabin slipped out of literally nowhere to stand beside him. "Okay, Harry, but be careful."
The man smirked at his wife, giving her the joking smile he knew she loved. "I always am, love." He removed his hat and kissed her then, soft and gentle, before turning to Crane. "Keep your eye on her, Ichabod. She isn't safe outside of my shadow."
The other man tried to say something, no doubt to ask about what was going on, but Harry didn't give him the chance. Instead he raced over to his bike, slid into the saddle, and stared at where he imagined the horseman's head would have been.
"So, Horseman of Death, eh?" He set his hat on his head, tapped into its power, and all at once he was coated in flames. His hair and goattee roiled with dancing light, and the fire flowed down the length of his coat. Those weren't the only changes however. His motorcycle shuddered, groaned, and crimson light engulfed the body and exhaust, cracking the concrete beneath him from the heat being displaced. The rubber of his tires hissed with barely constrained magma. "Let's put that title to the test."
His tires screeched, the horse screamed anew, and the two riders charged at each other.
Across the street a patrol car was just pulling up to the scene, having been called by Lieutenant Mills over the radio a few minutes earlier for backup. A good thing too as they'd been close enough to hear the shotgun fire when it started. The officers inside were just getting ready to go in when the gate ahead crashed open and a headless body in a red coat came flying out to crash into their hood and windshield. They screamed, scrambled out the side doors, and turned just in time to watch as the massive man who apparently had no head rose from the damaged vehicle as if nothing had happened at all.
As they continued to stare at the impossible scene before them, the fresh snarl of an engine lit upon the air, preceding a magma laden motorcycle and a literal man on fire riding it down the path after the monster.
Though before the officers could even yell, "Freeze!" A white horse materialized out of nowhere, and the headless man mounted up and rode off just before the man on fire would have reached him. As the two sped away, one of the officers dimly noted that the second man was wearing a cowboy hat.
A few hours later daylight was gracing the land, and Harry was riding back up to the precinct. He'd ridden hard, and chased that damned horseman over land, forests, and housing yards, but he'd eventually charged straight into the depths of the river, and that was one place the other rider could not go. Fire and water did not mix.
So he'd come back here, intent on checking on the others and seeing how things had shaken out. It wasn't much of an investigation on his part as the moment he walked in the door, captain Irving marched up, grabbed his elbow, and dragged him into a mostly empty office. The man was rather happy to see Abbie and Crane were also present.
"Are any of you gonna tell me what went down last night?" The man demanded without a preamble.
"What would you believe?" Abbie asked right back.
Irving frowned and said, "Considering the fact that I have two officers and a shit ton of town residents describing having seen a headless horseman and a goddamned human torch cowboy riding around Sleepy Hollow, quite a bit." He glared up and down at Harry's clearly western outfit, "you got anything to say about the flaming cowboy part?"
"Why, my good captain, I wasn't aware it was alright to ask your coworkers about their sexual orientation."
The man glowered, "You know what I mean."
Harry nodded. "I do. But I need to get permission to tell you first. Give me a second." He moved away, and as Abbie and Ichabod started filling Irving in on all that they had discovered, he called Agent Wilson. After explaining to her what had happened and what was likely to keep happening, he stressed the importance of having a local police captain in 'the know' to work with. In the end he was given permission to brief him on the magical world and he hung up.
When that briefing was done, Irving left, stating a need to go lie down. No one present blamed him.
"So that's it? You beat the horseman so this is over right?" Abbie asked, earning surprised looks from the men.
"Abbie, in my experience, baddies don't stop doing bad things until they're dead."
Crane cleared his throat, "Not to take away from that rather morbid statement," he brought out the bible that had been buried with him, "but I have been reading further into this book. According to the signature on the inside cover it once belonged to General George Washington. The section on revelations speaks of two souls, empowered by god, to witness the seven years of tribulation. Lieutenant, I believe this speaks of you and myself. And if it does then horrible things are still yet to come."
Abbie stared at the man, "That's insane!"
"Any more so than any one of the things we've seen over the last couple of days?"
She groaned at that reminder. "Fair enough, but I still don't buy the chosen by god thing. Damn it, I was going to Quantico next week to train as a profiler, but I can't now, can I? Not with all of this shit going down. If you're right then more disasters are coming."
"Probably a fair bet." Harry winced. "I just wish we knew what the next thing would be."
A contemplative look came over the lieutenants face and she said, "There actually might be. Come with me." She led them out the door and down the hall back to the holding area. "Andy Brooks was a cop I'd worked with for years, but last night he attacked me and tried to help the horseman get his head back. He's clearly involved in this mess so if anyone could give us a lead it's him."
"Excellent." Harry opened the door for the others and followed them into the cells. "So who goes first-" he bumped into Ichabod's back, and when he looked to see what had stopped him he saw a body on the floor with its head snapped clear onto its back. "Well shit."