So, Chicago. It's a big city. And it only gets bigger when you're looking for someone. But when you're looking for a certain someone with a knack for doing a little magic, well then, the list gets a little bit smaller.

The alleyway is just as I imagined it; dirty, smelly, and cramped. I crouched down against a wall (well, not too against it, if you know what I mean) and dug into my pocket. Sliding out a small bundle, I glanced around, and then unwrapped it. My crystal. Quartz, about an inch and a half long, tied to a leather lead, and has never failed me. Unwinding the leather rope tied to it, I let it dangle down and hover over the ground, twitching slightly. It spun one way, then another, and then glowed. Frowning, I stared at it as it glowed a dull green-blue. Glowing was not good. Glowing meant magic. And magic meant that whoever did this was definitely a wizard.

Sighing, I stood up again and walked a few steps further down the alley. The glow got brighter, shining an aqua green, and my frown deepened. Suddenly, the glow was tainted with a purple edging to it.

Purple. Purple was magic, but not used, like the aura that hangs around a wizard. Which made this thing a whole lot worse. It had to be one powerful wizard to give off an aura that could almost overpower the magic's color. Which only left a handful of people.

"The High Council, Harry? Are you sure?" Bob asked. I set my crystal down my desk. After taking another lap up and down the alleyway, I returned back home to gather my thoughts and bounce a few off Bob. "For them to be involved already..."

The High Council. It's a sort of police for the magical realm. They are a team of high power wizards who patrol both of the worlds and keep the peace. Except they're brand of "justice" is a bit unconventional for most people. They tend to point a finger, say "guilty", and then lop someone's head off. Real unconventional, I would say, especially if the one they are after is you.

"Yah, I know, Bob. That means that whoever this kid is, she is in a world of trouble." I shook my head. "But there's no doubt about it. The crystal turned purple, Bob. Overwhelmed the green completely and spun out of control. I guessing it was Morgan and his crew, and then after the spell, they took off in their typical disappearing fashion."

"So, if they got the girl," Bob concluded for me. "Then they wont be coming back here for you. So if they do..."

"Then the kid got away and is on the run." I agreed. "Question is, why did they jump on her immediately? Were they chasing her beforehand?"

"Perhaps." Bob shrugged, noncommittal. I glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised. "There are other reasons why they would be following her, aside from the abuse of magic, Harry."

"What else, other than the laws?" I asked, slumping down into my old, orange winged-back chair. "I mean, that's why they keep coming to check up on me, right?" Bob nodded, distracted. "Bob?"

"Mm. Misuse of power, breaking one of the laws, being born into the wrong family..."

"Wait, being born?" I interrupted, holding up my hand. "That's a crime that the Council will kill you over?"

"Well, think about it, Harry. Certain families come with the... the pleasure of being judged by what your ancestors have made of themselves..." He tilted his head towards me, tucking his chin with an expression of a secret thought. "Or the pain." I sat there, mulling it over.

"Is the Council really that shallow?" I asked after a moment.

"Well, Harry, its not exclusive to the Council." Bob chuckled, most likely at the fact that I wasn't seeing his point immediately. "Think about it. When you hear the name 'Kennedy', whom do you think of first?"

"JFK, of course." I shrugged. Bob nodded, walking past me as he spoke.

"Right. And why is that?" He paused, long enough to look down over at me. I shrugged again, gesturing my hand for him to keep going. Man, this was starting to feel like we were back in his class, back when I was a kid. Not exactly the wildest time of my life. "Because, Harry, he was the one who made the most impact on the world. Positive or negative impacts will remain linked to a name, staining it for the generations to follow." He sighed, shifting his shoulders as if to stretch out a kink in his neck. Ghosts don't get kinks in their necks. That means something in particular was bothering him. But what, I wondered. Bob continued on. "Minor things would add on influence to the world's view on the name, of course, but the largest contributor would be the singular reminder when that name is thought of."

"Oh, ok, right. So, like when someone says 'Dresden' to a Council member...someone like, say, Morgan?" I leaned back, sighing to myself. "The first thing they'd think of would be..."

"The link between you and death of your Uncle, yes." Bob agreed, folding his hands across his chest. "Unfortunate, yes, and that might be something you could try to work against."

"Trying, Bob." I groaned as I stood back up, getting up out of the winged back, tattered chair and stretched. "Why do you think I keep doing this store job instead of just rolling over and playing puppy to the Council?"

"Mmmm...And here I was under the delusion that you were just insufferably stubborn." He replied drolly, but the look he gave me let me know he was joking. Somewhat, anyways. We exchanged slight smiles and I started back to the front of my apartment. "And you are going to do...what, Harry?" Bob asked, passing though each wall and item in his path, keeping up with me as I weaved my way around things.

"Me? I'm going to go out, tell Murphy I took a look at the alley, collect the pay for the day, and then go buy something to eat." I sighed, a tired smile lingering on my face.

"Mm-hmm, I see. And, so, what? Are you going to just happen to take the long way tonight? Which just happens to go by that same district, no doubt." I dropped my head away, hiding my expression of guilt. He could read me like a book, which was quite easy, actually, since I can't lie well for anything. "Harry, you are too easy. A knight, noble to the end, and a dog, who just can't let a bone go unworried."

"Aw, Bob, that's so sweet...we might just have a moment going here." I teased, sarcasm dripping with each syllable, and he rolled his eyes. "More food, less waffles."

"And a new pan." Bob reminded me, stepping forward as I opened the door. "That was your third one in...oh, the same number of months, actually. Congratulations, Harry. You're keeping the pace of destroying things, as usual."

"Shut up, Bob." I groused. "And get in your skull. I don't want anyone dropping by unexpected and seeing you. I've got enough to worry about right now." He nodded stiffly, an expression of distaste lingering as he dissolved into that red-and-black smoke, before wisping away into his skull, which was resting on my desk. The empty eye sockets glowed with a flickering orange flame for a moment, then dulled out into nothing.
Turned out, I didn't have enough troubles yet. More were just aching to find me and make my day.