A/N This one's a little bit shorter, but I think it has some good lines. Because no hunter can be truly complete without a snappy one-liner.
Sorry for the late update, I looked at the date and I realized, but my sleep schedule is so messed up I legitimately thought it was Wednesday. Anyway, next week will have a longer update to make up for it
This piece is unbeta-ed. Sorry if I didn't catch all of the errors.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or Supernatural, or anything belonging to J.K. Rowling or Eric Kripke, I'm just using the characters for fun. I receive no money off of this story. Don't sue me.
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Chapter Four: Flight of the Witch
Some months passed, and soon enough it was Harry's birthday. Her injury from her last hunt had healed, and she'd decided to take a day off from her routine. Harry strolled down the sidewalk outside the strip mall, stopping in front of a movie theatre matinee.
'Happy birthday to me,' she thinks, walking in and buying a ticket to Beetlejuice. Harry came out of the theatre in high spirits. She was considering how fun it would be to go on a hunt with a ghost like Beetlejuice when she noticed she was being followed. It was subtle, except for the fact that there were people wearing suits everywhere all of a sudden. Trailing behind her in the small crowd, leaning against shopfronts with newspapers in hand but their eyes still. She turned right four times, and sure enough they were still after her. Suspicion itched at her brain as she observed how they held themselves entirely too stiffly. Harry was a couple blocks away from her treehouse when she whispered "Christo."
Glancing behind her, she was rewarded with a flash of black eyes from at least five of her stalkers, and they turned their glares on her, snarling. Uh oh.
Harry took off running, ducking through the crowd and through shops. They matched her pace and the chase began. Harry turned into a mom-and-pop fabric store, jumping onto the display table as she went. The demons followed her, and she crossed the store, sliding under a table and letting the fabric drop around her. She raised her hand and caused one of the drapes near the back exit to flutter as a demon turned the corner. They noticed.
"She's this way!" he yelled. A couple pairs of feet ran past her table and out the exit, off to search for her. Harry wasted no time in slipping out from under the table and sprinting out the front door. She assimilated into the crowds of people heading for lunch, waiting until a gap to duck away to the park where her tree house was.
Casting notice-me-not spells on herself, she ran across the lawns until she was tucked away in the forest, pulling herself up onto the low hanging tree limbs and climbing until she reached her silk hut. Harry grabbed her messenger bag and began shoving everything into it. Books, journals, blankets, pillows, papers, weapons, trinkets; anything she had gathered during her two years here. The protection spells might fool humans, but she doubted the demons would be dissuaded by a few repelling wards.
Just as she finished packing, she heard a grunt and whirled around. Standing just inside the draperies was a demon. She brandished one of her knives at it, daring him to come closer. The meatsuit stepped forward, right into her invisible ink devil's trap. She growled at her, but she only smirked.
"Sorry, not in the mood for death today. Come back tomorrow?" she quipped.
"My friends will be here soon, and they'll let me out. Then I'll get my revenge."
"Revenge?" Harry asked, confused. Then she smiled smugly. "Oh, Rosemary, is that you? I'm touched, really, birthday wishes. You should have called ahead though, I have someplace to be. See ya," she jumped through the sheet hangings onto a thick branch extending from her tree to the next. Harry ran along these limbs every morning, and she could maneuver through the treetops exceptionally well.
She jumped from branch to branch, running along the strong wood to escape the hoard of demons after her. She jumped down and grabbed a smaller branch, swinging herself like a gymnast on bars to get enough momentum to propel her to another branch. Harry took out her blue 5110 Nokia cellphone and a business card from her magical pocket. Dialing the number as she jumped to a lower limb, she heard the grunts of her pursuers as they tried to catch up with her. She assumed they let out their friend. Harry reached into her pocket once again retrieving a no-pump water gun. Aiming it over her shoulder, she squeezed the trigger and repeatedly, smiling when she heard a hiss of pain, followed by a dull thud as the demon fell to the ground some twenty feet below.
"Gotta go fast," she mumbled, jumping over a confused squirrel.
The dial rang in her ear, and she crossed her fingers. Harry slid down the side of a fallen oak, jumping over the uncovered roots and hitting the ground. She rolled and came up on her feet, running hard. Harry aimed the gun over her shoulder and squirted a few more times, praying for good reception.
Meanwhile, in a comfortable if messy house in an auto yard in Sioux Falls, Bobby Singer bustled around his kitchen fixing lunch. He walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer, adding it to his sandwich and chips plate. He sat down on the couch, kicking his feet up and throwing his hat onto a side table. Bobby brought the cool bottle to his lips, sipping the refreshing liquid. His phone rang, and he put the beer down. His fingers clutched the landline, bringing it up to his ear.
"Singer speaking." He took another drink of beer.
"BOBBY!" yelled Harry. The man spewed his drink at the yell, holding the phone away from his ear because of the volume. Harry ducked around a tree at the last second, hearing a satisfied thump.
"Who is this?" he questioned.
"It's HARRY, you NUMPTY!"
"Harry? What's going on?" asked Bobby. He sat forward in interest.
"DEMONS! I can't- they're after me! I- damn I'm out of holy water hold on-" Bobby heard the sound of crunching branches. A grunt came through the receiver and a loud thwack.
Harry turned quickly and threw the gun at the nearest demon, landing right between its eyes where it cracked and spilled some holy water onto its eyebrows. They're having trouble following her through the forest, she knows. Deciding to make it harder, she begins to chant.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus." Bobby stared at the phone when an exorcism came over the line."I need your help!" she yelled into the cell.
"Are you exorcising something?"
"Not what you need to focus on right now."
"Okay, sorry. Sure, I can help, but I'm hours away from Georgia I don't think It'd do any good." Bobby sighed.
"Omnis infernalis adversarii - don't worry about that, just describe where you are in extreme detail - omnis legio." Bobby raised an eyebrow. What? He listened to Harry taunting someone through the phone.
Harry looked over her shoulder, then back to her path and slipped through two close growing trees. "Rosemary!" She yelled over her shoulder, "I didn't think demons were so slow. Mentally, maybe, but physically… Aren't you guys supposed to be, like, powerful?"
Bobby heard scrambling through the receiver. "Ouch! Touchy," mumbled Harry.
"Are you taunting a demon?!" demanded Bobby.
"Bobby! Focus! Description please." Harry was fast, but even she had her limits, and she was beginning to tire. This really put Harry Hunting into perspective.
"Uh, okay. Well, I'm in my sitting room which is situated in the middle area of my house, which is in Singer Auto Salvage. Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It's got books piled around everywhere, a couple run down couches and wooden floors. A couple windows, but it's pretty dark. Is that enough?" He asked.
"I sure hope so," came Harry's reply. She'd never Apparated somewhere without really knowing what it looked like. She concentrated on Singer Salvage Yard and Bobby's brief description, hoping for the best. A small pop sounded, and suddenly she was in a crowded living room with books towering around the edges of the room. Bobby sat on the couch with the phone in his hand, staring at her with his jaw on the floor. Harry pressed a button on her phone and hung up.
"That really shouldn't have worked."
"What the hell?" he asked.
"Cool right?" Harry dropped onto the cushy chair adjacent to the couch, taking a deep breath and collapsing into the comfort.
"What just happened?" He questioned, dumbfounded. Harry sighed.
"Apparition. Apparently it's supposed to be hard, but I can do it easily. Of course, I've found I can do a lot of things rather easily. It's probably because of my magical philosophy regarding wands and other objects or ideas meant to channel your magic. It will only decrease your power, like a pinhole in a dam." Bobby still stared and she rolled her eyes.
"Magic." Harry stood up and busied herself, searching through her messenger bag, ignoring the incredulous look shot her way when she reached her arm into it up to her shoulder. "Now," she started, drawing out the invisible ink and waving her hand so that it began drawing devil's traps, "I'm being chased by some pretty upset demons. I guess they don't like it when you threaten to kill them," she said nonchalantly.
"You threatened to kill a demon? That's impossible! And stupid!" Roared Bobby.
"I prefer the term bravery. Bravery is by far the nicest word for stupid, don't you agree? And it's not impossible, just difficult." Bobby rolled his eyes. Then he caught up with the rest of her statement.
"How many demons are after you?"
"Mmmm...Seven maybe? I got a couple of the ones in range when I finished my exorcism, but Rosemary had a couple with her/him. No more than eleven."
"Seven demons? How are we supposed to fix that?" This was insane, or at least Bobby thought it was. Seven demons! That's more than he'd come across in his life! There was something about this girl that attracted trouble.
"Well I've got a couple devil's traps here, and that'll trap them. Also, I've got this spiffy new knife I want to try out."
"Fine. If I die, it's your fault. Idjit." Bobby stalked away to finish his beer in peace as she demon-proofed the house. He would help, but he wasn't exactly sure what all she was doing. That and the floating paintbrush set him a little off-balance.
After she placed traps around the house and salt lines on every doorway and window, Harry set her bag on the table and pulled out an array of weapons. Bobby reentered the kitchen where she had several guns laid out on the table. He picked up a sawed off shotgun, testing its weight.
"How'd you get these?" He wondered.
"When I first lived in Georgia, I didn't have any money and trickery could only take me so far. Pickpocketing came easy, and that led to larger conquests. Let's just say I'm quite adept at getting what I want."
Bobby nodded. "Okay, what do you have?"
"Several knives, including one that I'm trying to turn into a demon-killing knife. You're holding one of the guns that I use to shoot salt rounds. I tinkered with them a bit, so now they reload automatically. They'll let you aim easier, also, and the kickback is reduced."
"Alright," replied Bobby. Because really, what else could he say? Just then, he looked out the window and his eyes widened at what he saw. Tumbling through the air was a thick stream of pitch black smoke. It rolled over itself as it swerved and landed beyond the treeline, dissipating.
"They'll be here soon," remarked Harry. She picked up a pistol and cocked it, testing the aim. At Bobby's inquisitive look, she answered, "Devil's traps carved in the bullets. Tedious but worth it if one's coming at you and you don't have salt or holy water. They'll also refill automatically, but I only have a limited supply as they have to be hand-carved. I'm not sure why, but my magic seems to react with the trap if it's done on such a small level." Bobby raised his eyebrows, but took one of the pistols and slid it in his belt.
"What's the plan?" he asked.
"When they get around the salt, and they will, some will be trapped in devils traps. Some of them might get by, and that's when we start with the salt rounds. Try not to shoot them with the bullets unless you see that they're already injured. I don't think they've been out of Hell long enough to have killed whoever they're possessing." Just then Bobby and Harry spotted a group of people advancing from the yard. "Showtime."
They surrounded the house, banging on the doors. The walls rattled and Harry and Bobby grabbed the last of the weapons from the table, arming themselves as best they could. Bobby left to guard the backdoor while Harry went to the sitting room. She turned at a noise, only to see a demon crawling out of the fireplace. Standing up and brushing himself off, he shoved a hand forward and caused a table to move and destroy the line of salt in front of the main door. Harry shot him with rocksalt, forcing him through the air. She turned to the door where three demons burst through, looks of malice on their face. They stepped forward, but were blocked by an invisible wall. Harry smirked.
"Bobby!" she yelled. Harry was met with grunts of effort, and she ran around the room to see him ducking a demon's punch, the back door wide open. Two others were stuck in an invisible devil's trap. The demon caught sight of Harry, switching tactics and blasting Bobby backwards, holding him up against the wall. Harry aimed her pistol right at the demon.
"Harry," it pouted. It shook the possessed man's head. "I'm disappointed in you. Thinking that trick would fool me again.
"Ahh, Rosemary. I should've recognized you."
"My name is not Rosemary! Why do you keep calling me that?" The demon yelled.
"Wow, demon, get a life. Even I've seen that movie. Granted, I only got to watch it 'cause the cinema was showing classics last October and the tickets were cheap." The demon only looked more annoyed, and gripped tighter, cutting off Bobby's air supply.
"I can see your traps, and oops! You're out of salt." She swished her other hand and the guns in Harry's possession flew out of her reach. "I'm going to kill him, then I'm going to kill you. And there's nothing you can do about it."
"'Fraid not," yelled Harry quickly, shooting her palm out where ropes appeared from nowhere and twisted through the air, catching the demon and wrapping them around her. They latched onto the wall, holding her there.
"Impossible! There is no way for you to have such power!" Yelled the demon.
"Improbable, learn the difference. Now, Rosemary, I'm going to exorcise your friends real quick, then we'll have a nice chat, seeing as you've ruined your new look." The man's body had an old gunshot wound in his chest.
Bobby got up from his position on the floor and walked over to stand next to Harry. "How come those ropes are holding it?" he asked.
"They're soaked in holy water and covered in salt. Ingenious, no?" Harry tapped her hand on her throat, thinking "sonorous". She erected a clear wall around rosemary, fit with silencing and noise blocking spells. Then she turned to the rest of the house and delivered an exorcism in her loudened voice. Thunks were heard and she saw a pool of dark black smoke sinking into the floorboards. Bobby and her went to check on the victims, gathering the living in the sitting room, and piling the dead by the stairs. Harry raised a hand and levitated Rosemary into one of the traps, then went to modify the victim's memories. They were sent off to the hospital none the wiser, and Harry and Bobby settled into the kitchen where Rosemary fumed, still wrapped in burning ropes.
"So," started Harry. "We really need to stop meeting like this." Rosemary growled at her.
"I'm going to get out of here , brat, and then you're dead. You hear me? DEAD!" She struggled against the ropes, but Harry only waved her hand and made them constrict, rubbing salt into the demon's skin.
"Yah, yah, I've heard your little spiel. Remember what I told you about last time? Well, I think I've got the final product, and oh, does it need a test run." Rosemary paled, but Bobby interrupted her next words.
"Last time? Can I get the story yet, 'cause you're in my house and I'd like to know just what's going on." Harry sighed, then nodded and turned her attention to Bobby.
"Last October, I read about this case. Healthy guy dies out of nowhere, clawed up by some kind of animal in his living room. When I went to investigate there were traces of sulphur. Me and this other hunter were arguing because I found him trying to summon the demon, he thought I was a demon, then this thing shows up." She waved at Rosemary. "Tried to kill us to, went on spouting about our personal lives and death and torture yadda yadda, and I threatened her with my fancy demon-killing knife. It was a work in progress, but she seemed to get the idea. Long story short, she tore up all the contracts she had made in that town, I exorcised her, and me and the other guy go our separate ways. Seems someone wanted to pay me a visit from Hell." At this part Rosemary cut in.
"I wanted to kill you! You humiliated me, you worthless child!"
"Well boo hoo, sorry you're feelings got hurt," retorted Bobby. Harry gave an approving smile and started back with Rosemary.
"I was the laughingstock of Hell! Defeated by a child!I'll never be able to get back-"
"Rosemary, sweetie, no one cares."
"Is she always like this?" Bobby asked.
"Yes, bless her heart."
"SHUT UP YOU INGRATE!" Harry rolled her eyes at Rosemary's fuming, leaning forwards while playing with the knife she had taken from her ankle sheath.
"So, I'd like to test this if you don't mind. If you do mind, well, sucks for you, you're evil." Harry stepped forward just to the edge of the trap, then she thrust her hand out and stabbed Rosemary in the gut. A blinding light filled the room, and Harry turned her eyes away as the demon screamed in agony. The light died down and she pulled the blade out. When she looked at Rosemary, though, the demon was still there, looking tortured and breathing heavy. Did demons even breathe?
"Damn I thought that would work," sighed Harry. She looked back at her knife, wondering what else she had to add.
"What's happening to me?" Harry glanced up to see large orange bubbles erupting from under Rosemary's skin, coming out of her nose and floating in the air. Harry reached up and poke one with the dagger. It popped under the point of the knife, a deranged giggling sound accompanying the popping one. Orange slime stuck on the floor of Bobby's house, bubbling smiley faces continuing to giggle until they were suffocated by the slime.
"Well, that wasn't supposed to happen."
"Get this the hell out of my house!"
"Well I'm sorry, Bobby, I'm only trying to revolutionize hunting here."
"It didn't work. You failed. You're a failure, just like your family thinks."
"What?" Harry asked, looking up at the demon who glared daggers at her. Blood dribbled down the demon's chin.
"Oh yes, they believe you're a monumental failure. And a burden. And a whiny crybaby who should've died with her parents, the freak."
"What are you talking about," asked Harry, the knife in her hand gripped tightly.
"When I clawed my way back out of Hell, fixed what you did to me, I stopped by a little place called Number Four, Privet Drive. I was going to tear out your family's throats, but something stopped me. They were having a party. Do you know what they were celebrating? They day they got rid of you." The demon advanced, staring down Harry all the while. "I heard them talk of how they beat you, how they never loved you. You are worthless. You don't deserve to be alive. Deep down, I think you know that. You work so hard for life to have meaning, for a purpose. Reading all those books and thinking of yourself as a "big bad hunter". You want to prove that you mean something to the world. But you don't. No one loves you, your own family abandoned you to die in the woods. Your life means nothing. If you die today, the world will go on the same, just like your parents. And this time there will be no one left to mourn you." The demon finished, snarling at her. Harry stepped backwards, the knife weak in her grasp as the truth of the demon's words hit her. Because it was true, there was no one left for her. Bobby stood up and exorcised the demon, but Harry was deaf to the world around her. Tears were streaming down her face. She should have felt anger, should have been defiant. But she just felt empty.
She didn't even notice when Bobby picked her up and set her on a bed in a guest room. She didn't see him when he came to check on her after he buried the bodies in his house. She just lay curled up on the bed, despairing in the truth of her life. Why did this have to happen to her? Why couldn't she be normal, sitting with her family and eating birthday cake and opening presents like a normal little girl? Why did her parents have to die, and leave her to live with the Dursleys, who beat her and mocked her and made her do everything for them? Why did they have to abandon her? She fell asleep not soon after, depressing thoughts and what-ifs swirling round her emotionally exhausted mind. 'Happy birthday to me'.
Edit: 2 July 2020