Harry Potter and the Spirit of Revenge
Chapter 23: Meetings and Goodbyes
Please Read and Review. I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I am doing wrong (to correct it).
London, England
Diagon Alley
"This just won't do." Madame Xanadu sighed. "Dear Kimmy, why does the sign still shows the 'Jiggerson and Son's Apothecary' sign? Jiggerson died fifty years ago, and the son followed his father in 1978."
A twenty-something young woman of Asian descent (1) shook her head, still holding a box full of, mostly, glass jars, though there were a few made of bronze, silver, gold, clay, and a couple made of metals unknown to mundane science. Some of the jars were small enough to fit in the palm of a hand; some big enough for the head of an adult man; each containing a different object, or part of one (2). "I'm sorry, Madame Xanadu." Kimmy said, her voice a droning monotone, "The man from the Ministry demanded to speak with you before letting us change the sign. As you can see, the sign is ready." she tilted her head to a small table, where the 'Hokus & Pokus Occult Curioso' sign rested, "We didn't want to cause a scene, per your instructions."
The immortal woman sighed, raising an eyebrow, "No doubt he hinted at some…" her hand traced vertical circles in the air.
"Licence processing fee, he said." Kim's answered with an euphemism for "Bribe".
"Stupid corrupt leeches…" Madame sighed again, "Well, let's give him a little trinket as a token of good faith." She noticed some ashes on the rug, "Smoker?" She asked.
Kim nodded, "Yes. He dropped the ash as a show of dominance."
"Well, then. That narrows the possible gifts, doesn't it?" She walked around, examining the jars. Looking for one jar in particular.
New York, USA
The Village, Lower Manhattan
Club The Wrath of God (Outside)
John Constantine took a drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in an irritated snort. "Hell and damnation, John." He said to himself, "You had to tell the cabbie to get you to an interesting place…"
He stomped on the cigarette butt, digging in his pockets for the pack of Silk Cuts. "And of course, he had to give me a card for the only club in the world to cater to BDSM freaks that get turned on by the fricking Spectre!" (3) He lit a cigarette as he walked down the dirty alley, towards the door with the hand painted sign. "So much for forgetting about the new Spectre's ascension."
He shrugged and raised an open hand to the bouncer, a big muscle bound man, who wore a green hood over his black suit. He had no cape, but the hood was somewhat styled after an executioner hood, if one was to believe the movies…
"You are not dressed appropriately." The bouncer rumbled threateningly.
Constantine showed him the card the cabbie had given him. "First visit. Was told to ask for Simon."
The bouncer nodded, and opened the door. "Go to the bar. You'll find Simon there. If you get a sponsor, they will advise on proper attire. Next time you won't enter unless you are properly dressed."
"Got it, guv." Constantine nodded thanks, and went in, thinking 'Shoulda gone to Gotham…' He passed next to a couple stumbling to the private area. Both had heavy grease paint covering their faces in a ludicrously fake white pallor. The sorcerer from the other side of the world thought they looked like clown tadpoles, yet to grow their colours. They wore green capes and matching green underwear… nope, a Speedo and a bikini. Neither had a body even remotely suited for such clothes. Constantine suppressed a shudder and kept on walking to the bar.
On the way, he heard snippets of conversations. In the dim light, he noticed everybody wore green hooded cloaks, all with a blood-chillingly familiar look. 'I'll be damned… again…' he thought, containing the impulse to shake his head.
He sat by the bar, and nodded to the bartender, a cadaverous looking woman, her face partially hidden by the shadow of her hood. "A beer." He asked, "Regular, not that light swill that tastes like pee."
"Oh, a connoisseur from the Motherland, I see." She retorted, with a twisted smile. Her eyes sparkled in the shadow. "And a newbie in these parts." She filled a mug with beer on tap, and pushed it towards Constantine. "So, what's your deal, Brit-boy? Cane or whip? Back or hand?"
Constantine drank deeply from the mug before answering. "No idea, girl. Why don't you tell me the options?" He returned the smile with a crooked smile of his own. A more attentive look revealed that the woman had a nicer body that it seemed at first sight. It was mostly the make-up she wore making her look like a ghost. Or rather, a Spectre. Old Moon Face had left a mark in the Big Apple, that was obvious.
"Of course, that's why I'm here and get paid the big bucks. I am Simon. Agatha by name, Simon by surname." (4)
"John Constantine. I'm all ears."
Spectre's Mental Plane
Dumbledore stared into the distance, looking at the orange glow at the end of the road, beyond the horizon.
For long hours, he had remembered his life. For some reason, in this strange place his memory worked in an alarming way. He could recall events, people, actions, with crystalline clarity, but knowledge, academic stuff, blurred. He knew how to cast spells, but the theory behind that magic eluded him.
After a moment of panic, he calmed down. It might be a trick of this place, to keep his mind on his actions and not lose himself in tangential thoughts.
No. He was in here for a purpose.
To judge himself.
After reviewing his long and eventful life, he found himself… wanting.
He sighed sadly. So many…
So many wonderful people lost by his blindness, his unwillingness to compromise his lofty ideals.
He buried his face in his hands, and wept.
In his mind's eye, all those people paraded in front of him, silently accusing him of their deaths. Starting with his beloved sister, Ariana, and their father. A seemingly unending tide of faces and names, all of them belong to people who had died because of him and his actions. James and Lily, along with Frank and Alice, were not the last, but their silent judgement felt even heavier than most of the others, as their sacrifice had not ended that night.
Fighting evil required sacrifices. But he himself had not sacrificed much in the end…
With a supreme effort, he stood up. His knees barely supported him, and his hands shook terribly.
If this was to be his end, he would face it with as much courage as he had asked from the people he had sent to their deaths.
"Spectre?" He said, "I'm ready for judgement." He stood immobile, waiting. A lonely figure in an empty world.
The bench, the table, and even the road disappeared, leaving him standing there, alone.
Absolutely alone.
Hogwarts
Astronomy Tower
"Hey, kid, young ladies." Deadman bowed as Harry, Hermione and Luna opened the door of the Astronomy Tower. The Grey Lady stood there, watching down serenely. Myrtle joined her a moment later floating through the floor. To the sides of the class platform, the ghosts of Hogwarts watched in respectful silence, except for the Bloody Baron, the only one absent.
"Hello, Boston." Harry said, smiling at the red-clad ghost. "Let me introduce you to my friends. Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of our generation; and Luna Lovegood, who can see beyond sight. Hermione, Luna, this is my friend, Boston Brand, also known as Deadman."
Both girls curtsied. "Glad to meet you, Mr. Brand." Both said in synch.
"The pleasure is mine. Any friend of Harry is my friend." Deadman bowed in an exaggerated movement.
Hermione fidgeted with her fingers against her robe. Harry whispered, "Later."
She nodded and calmed down. Harry pulled them softly to the end of the line of ghosts, symbolically closing the lines, forming a rough circle, open at the edge of the platform.
Boston approved with a minute nod, and took to the air, floating just beyond the edge of the parapet. He cleared his throat, and spoke with a strong voice, "Welcome, friends. For this is a joyful occasion." He smiled. "Today, two souls find their way forward. Don't be sad, don't be mad. For this day comes to all souls. Raise you eyes, Helena Ravenclaw. Raise your eyes, Myrtle Warren. Up to the sky. Right over the horizon. What can you see?" He pointed at the horizon.
Myrtle gasped. "There's a star!"
The Grey Lady spoke, her voice very soft in wonder. "But it's the middle of the day!"
"It is indeed, a star." He extended his hands towards them. "There is your next step, I'll take you there so you won't get lost or distracted in the way. Will you let me be your guide?"
The two ghosts nodded, tears gleaming in their eyes. Myrtle hurried to Harry's side, and kissed him on the cheek, blushing silver, before hurrying back to her place. They took Deadman's hand, and slowly floated away from the tower. Helena Ravenclaw watched the star as if in a trance, but Myrtle turned her head back. "Goodbye , Harry. You were a good friend. Hermione, Luna, I wish I had known you better."
The three students waved goodbye, wishing the departing ghosts good luck. Myrtle smiled widely and turned back to the star. For a fleeting moment, her smile was the most beautiful thing in the world, for in it, there were happiness and peace.
"I'll see you later, guys." Deadman said as the trio floated away, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until they were a dot in the sky, shone bright for a moment, and disappeared.
Everybody stood there for a minute, not daring to break the silence. They al knew in their hearts that this world would never see Helena Ravenclaw or Myrtle Warren again.
No one noticed the Bloody Baron, standing on the top of Ravenclaw tower, his head cast down in complete misery.
The ghosts floated to the stairs, for once, taking the same route the living did.
Sir Nicholas was the last one to depart. "You know?" He said, to no one in particular, "I had never seen her in peace. Neither of them. There was always…"
"I know, Sir Nicholas. I understand." Harry whispered.
"Thank you. I… it's hard to put into words." The Gryffindor House Ghost mumbled, "I better go with the others."
"I think we will stay for a bit." Hermione said. Sir Nick held the top of his head and bowed in goodbye."
The three teenagers stood in silence for a few minutes more, thinking.
A brown barn owl landed at the parapet, and began to groom its feathers. A moment later, Hedwig did the same.
"Hello, girl!" Harry smiled, "I see you got a new friend!"
The brown owl jumped to Luna's shoulder, to her clear delight; while Hedwig did the same with Harry.
Hermione looked at the new owl, "Hmm? Are you a postal owl?"
"Nope." A new voice answered from the empty air beyond the parapet. "His name is Yo-Yo. And he is my pal."
They turned around, seeing a kid sitting on a broom as if it was a bench. It was very clearly a Muggle broom. And the kid sitting over it held a curious look in his face. Apart from the scar, he looked almost like Harry! Messy black hair, round spectacles, even his nose and mouth looked somewhat alike, though his eyes were black, and though he was slim, he didn't look starved. (5)
"How did you enter Hogwarts? Who are you?" Harry asked, putting himself protectively in front of Germione and Luna.
"Well… I'm potentially the most powerful enchanter ever, so I just flew in. As for my name…" he sneered at them for a moment, before cracking a smile, "there are some who call me…" he paused dramatically, "…Tim!" (5)
Harry's brow twisted in incomprehension, Luna smiled, and Hermione snickered. And then laughed hysterically.
"Oh, c'mon, you two! I've been waiting months to introduce myself like that!" The kid jumped down from his broom, laughing. "Oh, well… I guess everybody is a critic. Tim Hunter, you must be Harry Potter. The Phantom Stranger said we should meet. So here I am." He held his broom up. "Race?"
The Moon
JLA Watchtower
Monitor Room
The Flash lounged comfortably on his chair, surrounded by snacks. In a few minutes, his watch would end. He was impatient to go back to Earth. Linda had prepared a night out, and he was impatient to leave the Watchtower.
The transporter tube hummed, and Superman entered the Screens Room. "Hey, Wally. Any news?"
"Supes! You're early." Flash checked his watch. "Things are remarkably quiet for that would require the JLA so far."
"Great! Lois insisted I came early. I know Linda has been preparing your date night." He shrugged, "They have been talking."
"Ah, domestic bliss." Both heroes laughed.
"BTW, we are a bit short-handed. Bats and J'Onn took a few days off." Flash's fingers blurred over the modified keyboard, pulling the roster for the next few days. "Aquaman registered it in his shift."
Superman's brow furrowed. "Both? That's weird."
"You know how Bats is."
"I do, but J'Onn has a lot of identities. He normally goes down the list to keep them active."
"I don't know how he does it." Flash scratched his head. "I can barely manage some days."
"Yeah, same with me. Where are they?"
Flash checked the computer. "England. Both of them."
Superman shook his head. "Batman is too stubborn for his own good. At least J'Onn is with him."
"Wanna put an alert?"
"No. Just keep on watching from afar. I'm not going to make things worse. If, and only if, things go too bad, I'll put a call. The Stranger asked us to let things proceed."
"They are proceeding." A deep voice noted from behind them. Superman turned around and Flash scrambled out of the chair.
"Stranger!" Superman said.
"You almost gave me a heart attack!" Flash exclaimed.
"My apologies." He tilted his head towards the heroes. "Batman's actions have been taken into account already."
"You set him up? That's amazing!" Flash pointed at the mysterious man.
"No. Plans have been made for both his presence and absence. As we speak, the new Spectre has met a new friend. This day will decide how he will fulfill his duty."
"If you don't mind, I'll still keep an eye on things. For my peace of mind."
"Of course." The Phantom Stranger tipped his fedora, and vanished like smoke.
Weekly Alarm! Offices
Editor's Office
"We are ready to go to print with your story, Flead. I'll give you cover and two page spread, a quarter page of pictures with text. I want a box detailing the blood results." Mortimer J. Moss practically rubbed his hands together. This was a big scoop. And the Weekly Alarm! Had the exclusive!
No other paper had gotten close to the crime scene, and the police had managed to keep things under wraps.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Your paycheck will come out the profits, so get crackin'!" He clapped twice, and his reporter ran out the dingy office.
Satisfied, Moss sat down on his battered chair, thinking of a good header for this week's edition. He extended his hands in front of his face, framing the imaginary text. "DEADLY TIDE OF BLOOD IN LONDON!" No, too long. "TIDE OF BLOOD!" Hmm… nope. "BLOOD TIDE IN LONDON!" Ah! That was the one.
Tomorrow, all of England would be reading the Weekly Alarm!
Author Notes:
(1) Kim Liang. She doesn't actually exist. She is a shard of Madame Xanadu's soul, given form by magic. She was part of a plan by Madame Xanadu to obtain magical energy from Jim Corrigan (who at this point led a semi-independent existence from the Spectre), while Kimmy played on with Jim Corrigan's feelings to seduce him, Madame Xanadu did the same with Corrigan's other half. It worked for a while, but Corrigan/Spectre got wise to the trick, and cut ties with both Kim and Xanadu. Later on, a deal with the devil (Nero) gave the fragments more power, rebelling against Xanadu. She reasserted control, and still keeps them around. Kim Liam's debuted in The Spectre issue 1 (Apr, 1987). All of Madame Xanadu's employees are fragments of her soul, but I'll not give them much characterization, as I won't read the issues they were introduced. (I cannot stand Gene Colan's… drawings. His crimes against anatomy were many and constant. Just to make my opinion clear, he is my Rob Liefield).
(2) The jars contain little mementos of Madame Xanadu's adventures. When she debuted in Doorway to Nighmare issue 1 (Feb 1978), her stories had her reading the future to the protagonists of each story, helping them solve a supernatural problem. At the end of the story, some small item related to the story appeared inside a small glass jar. It was shown she had collected dozens, maybe hundreds of jars, that she kept in her store.
(3) Believe it or not, The Wrath of God Club exists canonically in the DCU, at least for one issue. It was formerly called The Killing Joke Club. Guess whom was it was based on… in any case, both versions of the club debuted in The Spectre, issue 51 (Mar, 1997). It's implied that the club continually changes name and theme, as its patrons are always looking for the next fad.
(4) OC, just there for ambiance.
(5) The two characters are very similar in appearance. Tim Hunter debuted a few years before Harry Potter, and it's not clear if J.K. Rowling was influenced by the Books of Magic comic or not. In any case, Neil Gaiman, Tim Hunter's creator, has not pursued any legal action about it. It might very well be a coincidence.
(6) Tim Hunter is referencing the classic movie "Monty Python and the Holy Grail". If you're like Harry and Luna, and don't know why Hermione is laughing, I implore you to watch the movie!