What's Left to Lose?: The Possessed Girl
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or Constantine so yeah…
Story: Harry has nothing left to lose. His family and friends are gone, his world is destroyed, and he's all alone in a world where magic is fictional and demons and angels run rampant. John Constantine is the only one to save him.
Set as an AU kind of.
Spoilers:
Warnings:
Pairings: John/Harry/Balthazar
What's Left to Lose?
Chapter One: The Possessed Girl
His name was Harry Potter. He was a wizard. Only, he was the only one left. In a world where magic used to thrive, there was none left except in stories. Well, that wasn’t quite right. Harry still had magic in him. But everyone else, it seemed, had lost sight of it.
Even if magic was fictional to them, it wasn’t to Harry.
Though he stood alone in this, Harry was absolute in his belief.
That was why Papa Midnight had commissioned two special people to locate Harry Potter and bring him to help the girl that couldn’t be exorcised. For this, he needed John Constantine and Balthazar to locate the last living wizard on Earth, Magic’s scion –the Witchmaster.
They needed all the help they could get, for the last heard of Harry was that the boy had disappeared off the face of the planet.
“Why again am I here?” Balthazar drawled.
John sneered and was about to retort when Papa Midnight interrupted them, “Because you help out and John won’t deport you. You’re here, John, because you can’t exorcise this girl. Now I need you to locate a friend of mine. Harry Potter needs to be found; only he’s gone without trace. I doubt you’ll be successful in finding him, much less convincing him to come with you. But you need to try. For all that could happen, there could be a backlash bigger than this girl that only he can deal with.”
Both men straightened up and leaned forward attentively.
“What does he look like?” John asked warily.
Papa Midnight sighed, “He’s shorter than you both, with green eyes. His skin is eerily white like snow. There’s no blemish on him, nor will you find one. Except the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, he’s scarily perfect. Last time I saw him, his hair was messy and no brush could tame it, but I heard it grew a little before refusing to grow any more, making it straighter.”
Balthazar frowned, “How old is he?”
“…He’s sixteen,” Papa Midnight admitted.
“Wait, we’re getting a brat?” For once, John agreed with Balthazar.
“Do not call him that!” Papa Midnight hissed, getting upset.
He calmed himself down and then began speaking again, “He’s more powerful than you can imagine. Respect him as all else do.”
The two men nodded stiffly and got set to work.
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“Harry Potter? Haven’t seen him in ages.”
“Potter? Sorry, can’t help you.”
It was the same everywhere. They couldn’t find a lead without it turning up to be false. Both of them were becoming agitated, especially with each other. Unerringly, it never failed for them to almost come to blows.
“Shut up, you stupid half-breed,” John snarled, glaring at the other male.
The demon sneered, “Make me.”
“I hear Harry’s coming ‘round here,” a woman’s voice sounded from a little way’s away.
“It’s around that time. Thank goodness too. Little Abigail’s gone into a fever-induced coma. Well, that’s what the doctors say. But Harry’ll help her.”
“Lead,” John muttered, eyes trailing after the talking women.
“Then let’s follow that lead,” Balthazar rolled his eyes.
In moments they stopped as the two women stopped and eagerly waved towards a hooded person walking down the rough street. And then the hooded person stopped just before them, his pale long-fingered hands moving up to remove his hood. Soft raven locks fell around a narrowed face with aristocratic cheekbones, a pointed chin raised slightly as he stared down at the women with calculating emerald eyes that slanted like a cat’s. His full blood-red lips were set into a frown, just slightly pouty. His eyes were in a heavily-lidded look, with long, dark eyelashes fluttering on the ends of his eyelids. Then his chin jutted out and he slightly raised his slender eyebrows at them, his prominent lower jaw clenching unnoticeably to the women. His straight, slim nose faintly raised into the air questioningly at the two women.
“What is wrong?” he asked, voice coming out softly.
“Harry, you must come see Abigail. The doctors can’t help her!”
His lips moved upward in a delicate smile, his eyes changing from calculating to warmth.
“I do as you please,” he murmured gently.
He followed the women and the two men silently followed this boy who could only be a sprite. Something not human, but not saintly enough to be an angel and not tainted at all to be a demon.
“Harry, thank goodness. We need your help. There are several patients that are beyond our help,” Dr. Murtogg said in relief, seeing the Witchmaster.
The exorcist and demon watched their target perform miracles, curing at a fast rate. When the wizard bowed his leave, they followed him to where he seemed to live, Floors Castle. Strange, seeing as how the Scottish country house had been open to the public, housing the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe.
“Why are you following me?” Harry suddenly asked, not even turning from the threshold of the castle.
“So you noticed us,” Balthazar commented idly, pretending to be indifferent when really something about the Witchmaster unnerved him.
“Of course. Why are you following me?” Even as the tone was harsh, the words flowed melodiously from his lips.
“We need you to come with us and help a little girl,” John twisted their story, seeing how Harry was willing to help people.
Harry gave pause, but turned to face them. “I will help you.”
Both of them inwardly sighed in relief.
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Harry removed his cloak, setting it aside as he examined the girl silently. Papa Midnight had looked at them in surprise, seeing their return from Scotland successfully with Harry. All of them were quiet as they watched Harry start his work. And then oddly enough, Harry laid aside the girl, who looked dreadful with red eyes and veins pulsing from sickly pale skin, her hair matted to his forehead. He hugged her close to him and began chanting in Latin, one hand caressing her sweating forehead.
She groaned and then began shrieking, her limbs thrashing, but Harry continued to hold on calmly. Harry still chanting, she started thrashing even more, violently trying to dislodge the wizard from her. Then Harry laid a simple kiss to her temple and she stopped, arching off the bed and her mouth forming a silent o. She collapsed onto the bed, looking healthier with wisps of steam coming off her.
Harry sat up, looking at her in silent contemplation, his head tilted to the side.
“You brought me here more than just to save the girl,” Harry suddenly stated.
Papa Midnight nodded grimly, “That girl wasn’t possessed by any normal demon such as half-breeds, vermin, scavengers, or soldiers. She was possessed by a true demon.”
“Soldiers, vermin, and scavengers are true demons,” John pointed out, getting a little irritated that he may be a little lost.
“No, demons passed the gateway of Hell,” Harry said scowling, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“The gateway of Hell is the Hell you and Balthazar know, John. It changes with the times, concerning the next event that causes an overload of deaths. But beyond that, lays the true Hell, with nine levels. From Purgatory to Lou’s inner circle,” Papa Midnight explained.
“It’s the levels where people truly deserving to be in Hell are sent to. Your gateway touches only the surface of Hell, housing basically the ‘leftovers’ or the ones that aren’t tainted enough to be truly punished,” Harry explained.
“It’s for the people who aren’t damned enough,” Papa Midnight ended.
Balthazar scowled, “That doesn’t explain why I don’t really know about it. I’m a demon.”
“No, you’re a half-breed. You’re tainted by being somewhat mortal. Think of it as this way, true Hell consists of purebloods and you’re only a half-blood not good enough to be associated with them. The scavenger demons and whatnot are mindless, not deserving of true Hell either,” Harry stood up from his spot.
Balthazar sneered and started to approach Harry when Papa Midnight intervened, “Harry, will you help?”
The Witchmaster sighed, “Why should I?”
“Why wouldn’t you? Would you rather disappear again? Just because you are the last of your kind doesn’t mean you should keep away from the world and us ‘normal’ people,” Papa Midnight shrugged.
Harry stared at him shrewdly and then unexpectedly began exuding power, laying it on thick and overwhelming the three, though Papa Midnight took care not to show it outwardly. John gasped and stumbled back, leaning heavily on the wall nearest him. Balthazar had to close his eyes and concentrate everything on just standing, keeping his focus only on that and nothing else. He knew he would have fallen otherwise.
As sudden as it had started, it stopped and all three warily looked at Harry.
“I will help, but I want my peace. I don’t want to be bothered ever again, and while I’m here I want to be bothered as least as possible. Don’t bother me unless there’s no other choice.”
Papa Midnight grimaced, “Such grim terms. Alright, whatever you want. Do you have a place you can stay?”
“No.”
“John, if you don’t mind housing Balthazar and Harry…?”
John shook his head adamantly, “I’ll take the kid, but there’s no way he’s coming too.”
“The half-breed will come, exorcist. He will be useful in the future,” Harry stated flippantly.
“Don’t call me half-breed!”
“Don’t call me exorcist.”
Both John and Balthazar yelled at the same time.
“I will address you accordingly,” Harry coldly said. Ignoring them, Harry turned back to Papa Midnight, “You will tell me when she awakens.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s the first possessed and there must be a reason why.”
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By the time they had reached John’s apartment, the two men were steadfastly getting curious about the teenager. Despite his derisive tone towards them, they still seem to have the need to talk to him but they held their tongues.
“So where are we sleeping?” Balthazar asked John reluctantly.
“Wherever. I don’t care. The bed’s mine,” John grunted, moving as quickly as he could away from them.
The exorcist quickly fled from them and hid in his room, leaving the demon and Witchmaster to confront each other in the room.
“So, you want the couch?” Balthazar scowled, looking over to his silent companion.
Harry ignored him, waving his hand at the kitchen table and turning into a bed. Balthazar’s scowl deepened, watching enviously at the teen cozily settled down and continued to ignore the demon.
“Fuck, could’ve helped a demon out here…”
He was surprised to turn back to a bed instead of couch.
The next morning, John went into living space of his apartment to see two beds that had not been there before. Shaking his head, he brewed some coffee and thought maybe he was seeing things. After the first cup, he thought again.
Unfortunately, by the time he was on his fifth cup, both of his new flat mates had woken up.
Harry was silent, but Balthazar gave the normal snipe at him. The demon headed straight for the coffee, pouring himself a cup, as the teen maneuvered around and inspected the apartment. Afterwards, Harry frowned and then left the apartment without another word to his new keepers.
Huffing, Balthazar disdainfully sat down from across John, who scowled at his door form where Harry had abandoned them without an explanation.
Started 1/1/08 –Completed 1/7/08
Story: Harry has nothing left to lose. His family and friends are gone, his world is destroyed, and he's all alone in a world where magic is fictional and demons and angels run rampant. John Constantine is the only one to save him.
Set as an AU kind of.
Spoilers:
Warnings:
Pairings: John/Harry/Balthazar
What's Left to Lose?
Chapter One: The Possessed Girl
His name was Harry Potter. He was a wizard. Only, he was the only one left. In a world where magic used to thrive, there was none left except in stories. Well, that wasn’t quite right. Harry still had magic in him. But everyone else, it seemed, had lost sight of it.
Even if magic was fictional to them, it wasn’t to Harry.
Though he stood alone in this, Harry was absolute in his belief.
That was why Papa Midnight had commissioned two special people to locate Harry Potter and bring him to help the girl that couldn’t be exorcised. For this, he needed John Constantine and Balthazar to locate the last living wizard on Earth, Magic’s scion –the Witchmaster.
They needed all the help they could get, for the last heard of Harry was that the boy had disappeared off the face of the planet.
“Why again am I here?” Balthazar drawled.
John sneered and was about to retort when Papa Midnight interrupted them, “Because you help out and John won’t deport you. You’re here, John, because you can’t exorcise this girl. Now I need you to locate a friend of mine. Harry Potter needs to be found; only he’s gone without trace. I doubt you’ll be successful in finding him, much less convincing him to come with you. But you need to try. For all that could happen, there could be a backlash bigger than this girl that only he can deal with.”
Both men straightened up and leaned forward attentively.
“What does he look like?” John asked warily.
Papa Midnight sighed, “He’s shorter than you both, with green eyes. His skin is eerily white like snow. There’s no blemish on him, nor will you find one. Except the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, he’s scarily perfect. Last time I saw him, his hair was messy and no brush could tame it, but I heard it grew a little before refusing to grow any more, making it straighter.”
Balthazar frowned, “How old is he?”
“…He’s sixteen,” Papa Midnight admitted.
“Wait, we’re getting a brat?” For once, John agreed with Balthazar.
“Do not call him that!” Papa Midnight hissed, getting upset.
He calmed himself down and then began speaking again, “He’s more powerful than you can imagine. Respect him as all else do.”
The two men nodded stiffly and got set to work.
+
+
+
+
+
+
“Harry Potter? Haven’t seen him in ages.”
“Potter? Sorry, can’t help you.”
It was the same everywhere. They couldn’t find a lead without it turning up to be false. Both of them were becoming agitated, especially with each other. Unerringly, it never failed for them to almost come to blows.
“Shut up, you stupid half-breed,” John snarled, glaring at the other male.
The demon sneered, “Make me.”
“I hear Harry’s coming ‘round here,” a woman’s voice sounded from a little way’s away.
“It’s around that time. Thank goodness too. Little Abigail’s gone into a fever-induced coma. Well, that’s what the doctors say. But Harry’ll help her.”
“Lead,” John muttered, eyes trailing after the talking women.
“Then let’s follow that lead,” Balthazar rolled his eyes.
In moments they stopped as the two women stopped and eagerly waved towards a hooded person walking down the rough street. And then the hooded person stopped just before them, his pale long-fingered hands moving up to remove his hood. Soft raven locks fell around a narrowed face with aristocratic cheekbones, a pointed chin raised slightly as he stared down at the women with calculating emerald eyes that slanted like a cat’s. His full blood-red lips were set into a frown, just slightly pouty. His eyes were in a heavily-lidded look, with long, dark eyelashes fluttering on the ends of his eyelids. Then his chin jutted out and he slightly raised his slender eyebrows at them, his prominent lower jaw clenching unnoticeably to the women. His straight, slim nose faintly raised into the air questioningly at the two women.
“What is wrong?” he asked, voice coming out softly.
“Harry, you must come see Abigail. The doctors can’t help her!”
His lips moved upward in a delicate smile, his eyes changing from calculating to warmth.
“I do as you please,” he murmured gently.
He followed the women and the two men silently followed this boy who could only be a sprite. Something not human, but not saintly enough to be an angel and not tainted at all to be a demon.
“Harry, thank goodness. We need your help. There are several patients that are beyond our help,” Dr. Murtogg said in relief, seeing the Witchmaster.
The exorcist and demon watched their target perform miracles, curing at a fast rate. When the wizard bowed his leave, they followed him to where he seemed to live, Floors Castle. Strange, seeing as how the Scottish country house had been open to the public, housing the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe.
“Why are you following me?” Harry suddenly asked, not even turning from the threshold of the castle.
“So you noticed us,” Balthazar commented idly, pretending to be indifferent when really something about the Witchmaster unnerved him.
“Of course. Why are you following me?” Even as the tone was harsh, the words flowed melodiously from his lips.
“We need you to come with us and help a little girl,” John twisted their story, seeing how Harry was willing to help people.
Harry gave pause, but turned to face them. “I will help you.”
Both of them inwardly sighed in relief.
+
+
+
+
+
+
Harry removed his cloak, setting it aside as he examined the girl silently. Papa Midnight had looked at them in surprise, seeing their return from Scotland successfully with Harry. All of them were quiet as they watched Harry start his work. And then oddly enough, Harry laid aside the girl, who looked dreadful with red eyes and veins pulsing from sickly pale skin, her hair matted to his forehead. He hugged her close to him and began chanting in Latin, one hand caressing her sweating forehead.
She groaned and then began shrieking, her limbs thrashing, but Harry continued to hold on calmly. Harry still chanting, she started thrashing even more, violently trying to dislodge the wizard from her. Then Harry laid a simple kiss to her temple and she stopped, arching off the bed and her mouth forming a silent o. She collapsed onto the bed, looking healthier with wisps of steam coming off her.
Harry sat up, looking at her in silent contemplation, his head tilted to the side.
“You brought me here more than just to save the girl,” Harry suddenly stated.
Papa Midnight nodded grimly, “That girl wasn’t possessed by any normal demon such as half-breeds, vermin, scavengers, or soldiers. She was possessed by a true demon.”
“Soldiers, vermin, and scavengers are true demons,” John pointed out, getting a little irritated that he may be a little lost.
“No, demons passed the gateway of Hell,” Harry said scowling, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“The gateway of Hell is the Hell you and Balthazar know, John. It changes with the times, concerning the next event that causes an overload of deaths. But beyond that, lays the true Hell, with nine levels. From Purgatory to Lou’s inner circle,” Papa Midnight explained.
“It’s the levels where people truly deserving to be in Hell are sent to. Your gateway touches only the surface of Hell, housing basically the ‘leftovers’ or the ones that aren’t tainted enough to be truly punished,” Harry explained.
“It’s for the people who aren’t damned enough,” Papa Midnight ended.
Balthazar scowled, “That doesn’t explain why I don’t really know about it. I’m a demon.”
“No, you’re a half-breed. You’re tainted by being somewhat mortal. Think of it as this way, true Hell consists of purebloods and you’re only a half-blood not good enough to be associated with them. The scavenger demons and whatnot are mindless, not deserving of true Hell either,” Harry stood up from his spot.
Balthazar sneered and started to approach Harry when Papa Midnight intervened, “Harry, will you help?”
The Witchmaster sighed, “Why should I?”
“Why wouldn’t you? Would you rather disappear again? Just because you are the last of your kind doesn’t mean you should keep away from the world and us ‘normal’ people,” Papa Midnight shrugged.
Harry stared at him shrewdly and then unexpectedly began exuding power, laying it on thick and overwhelming the three, though Papa Midnight took care not to show it outwardly. John gasped and stumbled back, leaning heavily on the wall nearest him. Balthazar had to close his eyes and concentrate everything on just standing, keeping his focus only on that and nothing else. He knew he would have fallen otherwise.
As sudden as it had started, it stopped and all three warily looked at Harry.
“I will help, but I want my peace. I don’t want to be bothered ever again, and while I’m here I want to be bothered as least as possible. Don’t bother me unless there’s no other choice.”
Papa Midnight grimaced, “Such grim terms. Alright, whatever you want. Do you have a place you can stay?”
“No.”
“John, if you don’t mind housing Balthazar and Harry…?”
John shook his head adamantly, “I’ll take the kid, but there’s no way he’s coming too.”
“The half-breed will come, exorcist. He will be useful in the future,” Harry stated flippantly.
“Don’t call me half-breed!”
“Don’t call me exorcist.”
Both John and Balthazar yelled at the same time.
“I will address you accordingly,” Harry coldly said. Ignoring them, Harry turned back to Papa Midnight, “You will tell me when she awakens.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s the first possessed and there must be a reason why.”
+
+
+
+
+
+
By the time they had reached John’s apartment, the two men were steadfastly getting curious about the teenager. Despite his derisive tone towards them, they still seem to have the need to talk to him but they held their tongues.
“So where are we sleeping?” Balthazar asked John reluctantly.
“Wherever. I don’t care. The bed’s mine,” John grunted, moving as quickly as he could away from them.
The exorcist quickly fled from them and hid in his room, leaving the demon and Witchmaster to confront each other in the room.
“So, you want the couch?” Balthazar scowled, looking over to his silent companion.
Harry ignored him, waving his hand at the kitchen table and turning into a bed. Balthazar’s scowl deepened, watching enviously at the teen cozily settled down and continued to ignore the demon.
“Fuck, could’ve helped a demon out here…”
He was surprised to turn back to a bed instead of couch.
The next morning, John went into living space of his apartment to see two beds that had not been there before. Shaking his head, he brewed some coffee and thought maybe he was seeing things. After the first cup, he thought again.
Unfortunately, by the time he was on his fifth cup, both of his new flat mates had woken up.
Harry was silent, but Balthazar gave the normal snipe at him. The demon headed straight for the coffee, pouring himself a cup, as the teen maneuvered around and inspected the apartment. Afterwards, Harry frowned and then left the apartment without another word to his new keepers.
Huffing, Balthazar disdainfully sat down from across John, who scowled at his door form where Harry had abandoned them without an explanation.
Started 1/1/08 –Completed 1/7/08