Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter, Sleepy Hollow, or Bones. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am just a simple writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love.

Note: I would like to thank my audience for the positive response this story has received so far. As a creator it makes me happy to know how well my ideas are thought of.

Part Two - Witness The First

Elizabeth was reclining in bed on a lazy Sunday morning when her cell phone rang on the end table beside her. With a groan she retrieved and flipped it open before pressing it to her ear. "Hello? Lieutenant Mills? What's wrong? A burned corpse without a heart? Why that does sound strange. Yes, yes, I'll inform Agent Potter forthwith and send him to meet you. Yes, it was good to hear from you as well. Goodbye."

She groaned anew as she ended the call and her husband's skilled tongue ceased its ministrations between her legs. Instead of continuing his well practiced husbandly duties, her man inclined his head to look at her and asked, "What was that about?"

"Oh, there was a murder under mysterious circumstances. Abbie and Crane think it could be something to do with their whole 'end of days' thing."

Harry started to bunch the sheets up and rise, "Is it urgent?"

In answer, Elizabeth grabbed a handful of her man's hair and forcefully shoved his head back where she wholeheartedly believed it belonged. "The man is already dead, so it is not so urgent that you can't finish what you started, Harry. Now get back to work."

Below her, Harry smiled warmly as he thought of one of the true loves of his life, and the one that had helped him learn what a tongue was truly best used for. "As you command, my love."

It was two hours later before the two left the cabin on his motorcycle and made their way to the highway where a police cordon surrounded a burned out vehicle. Abbie and Ichabod stood off to the side quietly discussing something where the others couldn't hear.

Elizabeth quickly melded into his shadow, and Harry ambled his way over to them.

Abbie saw him first. "Well look who it is." She smiled up at the much taller man. "Sure took you a while to get here. What kept you?"

"Elizabeth had some 'work' for me to take care of before I could leave. Now what's the situation?"

Crane answered, "A single victim, incinerated in the car with his heart torn out of his chest."

"Have either of you examined the corpse thoroughly yet?"

"We were waiting for you." His fellow Brit replied. "I believed a supernatural proponent could be at play and that your expertise could thus be of use."

Harry smiled at the man and gestured grandly at the yellow tape, "After you then."

Together the three made their way to the wreckage and started examining everything they could find. If the uniforms on the scene found anything strange about an FBI cowboy shifting around, they didn't say anything. By now everyone had heard the stories of the headless horseman and the pyro biker with the gambler's hat, and each person had their own suspicions regarding the new Fed. Luckily 'common sense' kept them all from voicing those same suspicions out loud.

"Well," Harry noted as he examined the corpse, "this guy is certainly well done. This definitely wasn't a regular car fire."

"How can you tell?" Abbie asked from over his shoulder.

"Because the body is uniformly burned through. It was done at the same rate and at the same temperature. By that I mean his epidermis and most of his organs were seared through instantly. In a normal fire the bodily fluids would halt the process slightly, thus adding a tinge of color variation in the body. This one is full crisp."

"Very astute observation, Mr. Potter." Ichabod nodded, a faraway look in his eyes.

Harry saw it and immediately pulled the man to the side where they could speak without prying ears listening in. "You know something, I can see it plain on your face. Spill it."

The time traveler gave his compatriot a look for his strange turn of phrase, but regardless he answered. "A couple nights ago I received another vision from Katrina."

"Your wife?"

"Yes. She confirmed that her soul is being held hostage, and that an army of evil is preparing to attack this world. She also provided a hint as to who would be coming first. 'She's one of us.' Whatever that could mean."

Harry gave the man a flat stare, "Dude, your wife is a witch. That clearly implies the first monster, and likely the one that did Old Crispy here in, is one as well."

Crane sighed and nodded. "You are right, of course. I am sorry, Harry. I simply have been having trouble reconciling the knowledge that the woman I loved kept something so vital a secret from me. I thought we told each other everything. Honesty was part of our vows after all."

"Crane," Harry took his arm companionably, "look, in my experience a marriage without trust isn't really one at all. I know I'm young, but I managed to do it three times and in none of those cases did I hold anything back from my spouses."

"What are you saying?"

"Only that in this time you find yourself with a fresh start. Perhaps you should consider if focusing on a marriage of lies is something you truly wish to do. But enough of that kind of talk, was there anything else that struck you as odd about the body?"

"Yes…" Ichabod trailed off and glanced to the side, as if he were lost in thought. "During the war I was returning with my regiment to camp in Albany. The moon was low in its cycle, as it is now by happenstance, a Blood Moon. We came upon a massacre beyond anything that artillery should have been able to provide. Bodies lie everywhere we could see, reduced to ash. Murders similar to those became more common as time went on and we began to hear whispers of a dark coven coming to power. It was supposedly led by a high priestess named Serilda of Abaddon. General Washington believed the redcoats had made an alliance with this unholy creature."

Abbie, who had joined them midway through their conversation added, "Corban did say he thought there were two covens active in Sleepy Hollow. One good, and one evil."

"Then the answers could be in his files in the archives." Crane agreed.

"Right, it seems like we have a plan." Harry looked to each of his partners in turn. "You two search the files and I'll go on the hunt. I got a bit of a feel for the magic used to start that car fire, so if I feel it again while I'm looking I'll ride like hell to head it off. Any info you can get me would help immensely though, so be quick with the research, yeah?"

The other two nodded, and they each took off on their duties. And thus it was that for the next several hours Harry sped from one side of Sleepy Hollow to the other. Always searching, always looking. And finally, as night fell, he felt it. A twinge in the air of magic. Immediately he spun his bike around in the middle of the street, and as the passerby continued on their way and honked their rage filled horns at him, he sped off in the direction of the source. Hoping against hope that he wasn't too late.

With a slight boost from his hat's reserve he made it to the source of the output in record time. It was a white house, two stories high, and just as he killed the engine he heard the sound of a child's scream.

"No!" the wizard exclaimed. fearing he was too late he ran across the short yard and slammed through the door, leaving a comically human shape behind him in the locked wood. The sight before him filled the man with both hope and dismay. The child was still alive, but he was held in the grasp of what looked like a walking burn victim!

"Accio!" He reached his hand forth and the boy was ripped from the monster's arms into his own. Immediately he drew his revolver with his other hand and fired a concentrated blast of hellfire right in the attacker's chest.

She, as that voice could only be female, screeched as her body was sent flying into the other room. The sound of breaking glass followed and when he ran to follow, Harry saw only a blank frame where a window had once stood. "Son of a-"

"Freeze, police!"

Harry sighed once more at the sound of Abbie's stressed voice. He raised his hands and said, "Wrong culprit, Abbie. I got a shot off, but the creature managed to get out the window. You handle things here, and I'll go after her."

By now the child's mother had descended the stairs, drawn by his screams of fear no doubt, and Abbie was too busy assuring her that the threat had been dealt with to answer. So Crane gave him a nod in her stead and he carried on.

The rider searched until morning, but to no avail. The apparent witch made no further attempts on the boy. Nor did she make any other appearances of a kind. It was as if she'd simply disappeared. So with a groan of annoyance, Harry sped off back to the precinct where he imagined Abbie and Ichabod were no doubt waiting. He wasn't wrong, but it took him a good thirty minutes of searching to find where they'd hidden themselves away. The archives really were off the beaten path as it were.

So when he finally pushed open the double doors to the space, he was justifiably ornery. "Please tell me you lot know what's going on? Cause I ain't found shit."

The cop and time traveler were huddled together over a book of some massive size, and when he spoke up they jumped in place. Clearly they'd been very engrossed in whatever they were reading.

"We have found a great deal, Mr. Potter." Crane gestured him over to a pair of rather ancient looking chairs, and with a shrug, the man moved over to take one. A second later Elizabeth rose from his shadow to take the other.

"What the fuck!" Abbie exclaimed as the primly dressed brunette seemingly appeared from nowhere to sit behind the English cowboy.

"Oh that's right. I never told you about that did I?" Harry mused. "Right, well, Elizabeth travels everywhere with me in my shadow. She's my partner in all things, much as Crane is yours now. If you speak to me just assume she's listening too."

Abbie wanted to argue that that explanation was wildly vague, but a lot of things about this man were so. And she didn't want to sour the working relationship they'd managed to build so far. "You know what… fine. Just… fine. You keep your secretary in your shadow. Why would that be weird? Anyway, we know who the monster is and what she wants."

"Really?" Elizabeth questioned as she reached down to pull a pad of paper and pen from her husband's shadow. She smirked softly at Abbie's confounded stare before uncapping the writing instrument, clearly implying the woman should begin.

To her credit, Abbie shook off the strangeness rather quickly and focused on the matter at hand. Yes, Elizabeth thought this woman had potential.

"It's the same witch that massacred the revolutionaries in Crane's time. From the records we learned that she was captured by Katrina's coven, and eventually charged with witchcraft and burned at the stake. We believe she has been brought back, but in order to gain her full power and body she has to absorb the ashes of the last descendants of her murderers. Jeremy Furth, the victim of the car incineration was one of them."

"And that kid last night was another?" Elizabeth questioned.

"No." Ichabod clarified. "He was actually adopted. His father was the last descendant." He reached down behind the desk and placed an urn on top of the massive book. "And thanks to your superior's timely intervention, we now hold his ashes."

Harry looked between the two smirking witnesses and said, "You look like the cat that got the canary. Why is holding the ashes a good thing exactly? Aside from the fact the witch isn't going to get them of course."

"Because if she hasn't absorbed these ashes by the time the moon ends its cycle tonight, her soul will be returned to whence it came. All we need to do to win is hide them."

The wizard was silent for a moment before saying, "Or you could just destroy them."

Ichabod blinked. "What?"

Instead of answering Harry stood up, opened the jar top of the urn and reached his hand inside. A burst of light followed and the man set the urn on a nearby desk. It gave off a distinctly hollow sound as he did. "There. Now there is absolutely no way for her to survive the night right?"

"N-No, Mr. Potter there is not. But what should we do now?"

"Well, I imagine the bitch is gonna be looking for this urn once the sun goes down, and she'll probably be pretty pissed when she discovers it empty. Why don't we let her find it?"

Elizabeth perked up at that. "Oh that's absolutely devious, Harry."

"I should hope so. Do we still have that stash of C-4 in your bunker?"

"Let me check." The brunette stood up and hopped lithely into the depths of her partner's shadow. The sound of objects rummaging and clinking came through the air for a few seconds before her echoing voice intoned, "Yup. We've got a whole shelf of it."

"Excellent, love. Come on out and let's plan this mother."

Abbie raised an eyebrow, "Plan what?"

"How we're gonna trap the bitch until morning."

The Next Evening

"There is no way this is going to work." Abbie muttered as she lay prone on the ground just behind the rise of a hill two miles outside the town limits. In a small clearing several meters away lay the urn. Sitting all harmless-like, plain as day.

Beside her, Harry lay with a pair of binoculars over his eyes as he gazed at the surrounding trees. He chuckled lightly and said, "Never underestimate the single mindedness of the powerful. This witch has the experience of decades, if not centuries behind her. To her mind she's above everyone in this world, so who would possibly have the gall to try to trap her? And even if they did, she believes it surely wouldn't be effective." he took a breath, "Pride goeth before the fall, Abbie. I've dealt with egomaniacs like her before, so trust me."

The Lieutenant was all set to say that he'd earned that concession more than once since coming to her town, but a disturbance in the trees held her tongue. Instead she shook her temporary partner's shoulder and said, "Look! Over there."

Harry did so and through his binocular lens he beheld the charred visage of Serilda of Abaddon as she shambled toward the urn, her gaze never once leaving the piece of polished metal.

"As I said, Abbie," Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a detonator "single minded." As the walking corpse shambled ever closer to her goal, the wizard starting counting. "Five, four, three, two… one!" He clicked the detonator and a muffled boom erupted into the night. The creature shrieked in fear as the ground underneath it fell away, plunging her into a hole over one hundred meters deep.

A second click of the detonator started a chain reaction of secondary explosions that caved in the walls of the hole after her as she fell. Several seconds later it was over, and all that remained of the trap was a rubble strewn divet in the ground and a cloud of fresh dust in the air. In the silence that followed, the beeping of a large truck in reverse could be heard, signaling the arrival of Crane and a cement truck that Elizabeth had spent a good hour teaching him to drive, while Harry had been using his magic to dig the hole.

A short time later and that same clearing had a solid, and growing, layer of concrete building on top of it. Someone would probably complain, or try to remove it, but it'd be long past morning before such a thing became an issue.

Still, the trio kept watch until the first rays of daylight, and when they were sure that the witch wasn't going to rise from the earth once more, they engaged in a gracious round of backslapping before heading back to town. Harry happily offered to pay for breakfast, and as they sat talking about inconsequential things, and laughing a bit at Crane's lack of modern knowledge, the wizard smiled. It was nice to have friends again.