"Are you sure this will work?"
"No."
"Is there any other alternative?"
"No."
"Okay. Let's do it."
The plan seemed simple enough. They would summon the demon Forcas and negotiate the release of Astra from Hell. They hoped they had something of value that would persuade them to help. If not...well, it would be back to the drawing board. John felt that the best place to perform the summoning ceremony was to return to where the whole thing had started - The Casanova Club.
It took them a couple of days to gather everything that they needed for the ceremony, and so it was on the first night of the Easter holidays that they walked to the perimeter of Hogwarts before Apparating to the outskirts of Newcastle where the fated club once stood. When their feet hit solid ground, they looked up nervously at where the old nightclub once stood, now a burnt out shell of rotting black wood and covered in weeds.
"What happened here?" she asked, unable to disguise the fear in her voice. The building looked in danger of collapsing in on itself. John shrugged and lit a cigarette, the flickering light splashed onto his face, illuminating it momentarily to reveal his grave expression before being shrouded in darkness once more.
"Dunno, kids probably burnt it down. It won't affect the ceremony, though," he gave Minerva a hard look. "You don't need to do this, Minnie. I can manage on my own."
Minerva huffed irritably and marched towards the ruined club. John smirked and crushed the cigarette butt under his heel before following her into the darkened heart of the building. They didn't have to worry about gaining access to the building as someone had kindly torn the front door from its hinges. As they stepped over the threshold they both drew their wands and cast the Wand-Lighting charm, bathing the dark, dank interior in pale white light.
Minerva followed John as they carefully walked through the crumbling building, side-stepping fallen timber and broken furniture.
"Where are we going to do this?" she whispered. She knew that they were alone, but she wanted to leave as little impression here as possible. Everything about this place - the charred walls, the sodden, rotten floorboards, the damp air - felt tainted.
"The basement," he replied quietly, nodding towards a set of stairs at the end of the corridor. "This way..."
They carefully made their way down into the basement, pitch black and silent. Minerva shivered, pulling her cloak closer to her neck, a combination of the cold night air and nerves. She wasn't ashamed to admit that she was frightened. The more that she had learned of the Occult, the more she disliked the practice, but her determination to see this through to the end never wavered.
They made quick work laying out candles - some for light and others for purposes of ceremony - and began inscribing the necessary sigils on the damp ground. Chalk wouldn't suffice this time so John used Thestral blood to paint two large circles in the centre of the basement. Minerva didn't ask where he had managed to procure such copious amounts of blood on such short notice, instead concentrating on distributing salt over the cursed ground, muttering incantations of protection as she did so. Neither of them spoke as they prepared the space for the ceremony, there was nothing else to say. Minerva just wanted this over with.
When everything was ready, John began to disrobe. Kicking off his shoes he tossed them into the far corner of the room along with his socks, trench coat, shirt, and tie. Minerva cast a furtive glance over John's torso which like his arms was covered in Occult tattoos. She would have thought they were beautiful if she weren't now so well-versed in their true meanings.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked for what felt like the hundredth time. He gave her a warm smile.
"Let's just hope it does."
"And if it doesn't?" she implored.
"I'll worry about that when I need to," he sighed. He pulled her into a tight embrace and she hugged him back, afraid to let him go. She could feel his heart rapidly beating through his chest. Despite his cool composure, he really was afraid. He'd be a bloody fool if he weren't. John pulled away and rubbed her shoulder reassuringly, "You cast the first spells to strengthen the protection circle, then I'll summon Forcas."
Minerva slowly walked around the two circles muttering incantations under her breath, tracing her wand through the air in a figure of eight. John knelt in the centre of the first circle, facing the other one, lifted a small dagger from the ground and pressed the blade into the palm of his hand. He winced as the blade pierced his flesh and he collected the blood in a small wooden quaich. When the cup was half full he lifted the cup into the air and began to recite the incantation that would invoke the demon Forcas.
"Helon...Taul...Varf...Heon...Homonorium...Clemiach...Serucleth...Agla...Forcas, I awaken you," he called, dipping his index and middle fingers into the still-warm blood and running the sticky red liquid across his own forehead. Minerva averted her gaze, ignoring the queasy feeling in her stomach and concentrated on repeating her own protective incantations.
Tetremmaton...Tasoly,..Osurmy...Dermusan...Forcas, attend me now," said John a little more firmly. The candles flickered ominously and the room seemed to grow even darker, unnaturally so. It reminded Minerva of whenever a Dementor was nearby...
"Atalslym...Asophiel...Ilnosteon...Baniel...Ihalva..." John clamped his eyes shut and cried. "Forcas, I conjure thee, appear!"
Still, nothing happened. John peered out of one eye and his shoulders sagged.
"C'mon, you bastard, where are you?" he shouted.
"John!" Minerva hissed. John slammed the quaich onto the cold stone floor causing some of the blood to spill over the sides. He clambered back onto his feet, his hands clenched in tight fists by his side.
"The tricky bastard's playing hard to get," he grumbled. Raising his wand into the air and. "Forcas, by the names of your lords, Lucifer, Beelzebub, Belial, attend me now, or else I'll-"
"Or else you'll what, John?" came a booming, unearthly voice. Minerva gasped and instinctively pointed her wand at the large figure that had appeared in the second circle. John, however, lowered his wand and pulled his cigarettes out of his back pocket.
"Well, it's about bloody time," he muttered. Minerva squinted in the low light of the room to better discern the features of the demon before her. He looked human in form, only much larger. The only person she'd met with a similar size and physique was the Hogwarts groundskeeper, Hagrid. Forcas took a tentative step forward and raised his large palm into the air, but it didn't extend beyond the edge of the protective circle. He lowered his hand by his side and frowned at John.
"John Constantine," he said slowly. "Your reputation precedes you. Not many mortal men would be foolish enough to summon me."
"Yeah, well I'm about as dumb and cocky as they come," John smirked. "I'm not here to cause you trouble, chum. I've a small favour to ask."
Forcas laughter boomed and reverberated against the basement walls, "You summon me to your realm, trap me then have the gall to ask favours? Not only are you arrogant, you are also stupid."
"Not going to argue with you on that," he conceded, flashing a quick smile in Minerva's direction. "But I think I have something that may be of interest to you."
Forcas snorted, "And what could a mere mortal have that would be of any interest to me?"
Minerva swished her wand through the air and a large book levitated towards the demon, coming to rest at the edge of the protective circle so that he could see it but not touch it. The manuscript was almost three feet high and weighed 169 pounds. The demon's eyes widened and he knelt down better to see the ancient tome. He looked up sharply at John.
"Where did you get this?" he demanded. John smirked. As he had predicted, the demon was definitely interested.
"Borrowed it," he lied, taking a protracted draw from his cigarette before speaking again. "Found it hidden in the Vatican vaults, silly buggers didn't know what they had in their possession. It's rumoured to contain all human knowledge. Yeah, I thought that might interest you."
"Perhaps..." said Forcas slowly rising to his feet again. "What do you want in return?"
"What do I want in exchange for all human knowledge contained in a single text? Not much," he shrugged. "Just a human soul."
Forcas frowned, "That is no small request."
"It's a fair exchange," John argued. "Hell's bursting at the seams with damned souls, giving up one isn't going to make much difference, is it?"
"Hell is infinitely vast, its tortured inhabitants innumerable. How do you expect me to find one pitiful soul amongst so many?"
"Don't play coy with me, chum," said John warningly. "'He recovereth things lost...' Lost souls would fall under that category, would it not?"
Forcas chuckled, "Very good, John. Yes, I can find lost souls, but whether or not I help you is dependent on the soul that you seek. So pray tell me, who do you wish to save from eternal damnation?"
"A child," said John. "Astra Logue."
"No," said Forcas immediately. "You cannot have her."
"Why not?" asked John angrily.
"A child of tortured heart is too exquisite to trade, even for all of man's knowledge," he explained. "Losing the Codex Gigas is unfortunate, but tormenting the child will ease me through eternity."
John was beginning to panic. He looked around the room desperately for inspiration, "W-what if I give you something else?"
Minerva felt a stab of panic. They had agreed if the demon had refused the trade then they would banish him back to Hell and resume their search of the library in the hopes of finding another more amenable demon. John, however, was going off-script. What was he doing?
"And what have of equal or greater value to that of a child's tormented soul?" asked Forcas flatly.
"Nothing," John admitted. "Nothing but my soul."
Minerva gasped, "John, you can't be serious."
"Your soul?" said Foras interestedly. "You would give it up so willingly? For the salvation of one other?"
"Yes," said John firmly. "I would."
"John, this is madness!" Minerva shouted. "You can't do this!"
Forcas laughter cut across Minerva's cries of protest, "Your soul is worthless, it is damaged beyond repair. It cannot compare with that of an innocent child. Besides, your soul is already damned to Hell, I would only be taking what is already mine."
"Why wait decades when you can take me now?" John offered.
"A few decades is nothing to me," Forcas sneered.
"But wouldn't you love to be the one who dragged me to Hell?" said John. "I've caused your lot quite a lot of trouble over the years, you'd get a hero's welcome if you came back with me."
Forcas bared his teeth in a wide grin, "Very true."
"So do you accept my terms?" asked John. "Exchange Astra for me?"
Forcas gave a curt nod, "Deal."
"John, stop this madness at once!" Minerva yelled. "I know you're desperate, but there must be another alternative. You cannot throw away your life so willingly!"
"This is the only way," he replied grimly. "Believe me, I'm not exactly keen on giving up my mortal soul to this prick, but I checked every other possible alternative. This is the only way to save Astra."
Minerva gaped at him, "You knew from the very beginning that you would do this, didn't you? And you've made me party to it!"
"I told you that you wouldn't want to know what I was doing," he countered. "I'm sorry, Minnie."
Minerva couldn't let him do this. She wouldn't. She rushed forward, determined to put a stop to this madness, but as she reached the edge of the protection circle she crashed into an invisible forcefield. She staggered backward a few steps and looked pleadingly at John. He gave her a sad smile.
"Protection circles," he shrugged. "Just as effective for keeping things out as they are for keeping things in."
Forcas held out his hand to John, "Take my hand and the contract will be sealed."
"John!" Minerva cried, beating her fists helplessly against the forcefield. "Don't do this!"
Drawing her one last longing look, John turned away from her, reaching out of the circle and grasped Forcas' outstretched hand tightly. Immediately fire erupted across John's arm and he snarled, his face contorted in pain. Forcas sighed happily.
"Oh John, your fear is intoxicating, you wear it like a second skin," he simpered. "Then again, your skin would make a fine coat to wear, too. Come now, I have such wondrous delights in store for you..."
"Shut up and let's get this over with!" John snapped before he let out a blood-curdling scream of pain. The fire quickly spread and his entire body burst into flames. Minerva screamed too, unable to intervene. As the fire grew brighter, Minerva had to shield her eyes, the shrieks of pain and roar of the flames were deafening. Then just as suddenly, the screaming stopped. Smoke and the putrid smell of sulfur filled her nostrils and she gagged, choking. Minerva lowered her shaking hands away from her face. John and the demon were gone. The only thing in place of where they had stood moments before was a black scorch mark on the ground and a small figure that lay slumped on the floor.
Minerva crawled on her hands and knees towards the figure and let out a cry of exhilaration and pain as she recognised the blonde hair of Astra Logue, unconscious, but miraculously alive. Minerva pulled the little girl into her arms and cradled her back and forth, tears streaming down her cheeks, at a total loss and what she should do.