Advent challenge; fic 09.
Title: Trouble in New York; Part 1.
Fandom: Harry Potter/ Mortal Instruments.
Summary: Remus and Teddy have gone missing, and the only clue points to New York. However, the magical community she runs into there isnt quite what Tonks is used to...
Characters/ Pairings: Remus/Tonks,Magnus/Alec (more to come in later chapters)
Prompt: Mortal Instruments/Harry Potter cross over
Genre: romance, angst,adventure
Rating: pg
Word count: 1762
Magnus Bane was confused, and this was not something that happened often.
He was the high Warlock of Brooklyn; he had no idea why, but apparently this made him the person to send information to. Not that he was complaining; less effort on his part to know everything made the job easier. But he knew which sources were to be trusted, and which weren’t. He had always prided himself on the ability to know what was absolute rubbish, and what was the truth.
Only this time, he wasn’t so sure.
There were rumours flying in from every direction and source imaginable, and they were all pertaining to the same strange and seemingly impossible fact: a young woman had arrived in New York only days ago, a woman who was somehow a warlock but not a warlock at the same time.
How could that even be possible?
The reports were all hauntingly similar. She had to be a warlock, they all said. How else could she have discovered such heavily warded and defended down worlder haunts after being in the city mere hours? A mundane would have been fooled by a simple glamour, and she was no shadow hunter; her pale skin bore no marks. And they thought her hair must be her warlock mark, for it was a shocking, bright pink. All the reports confirmed it. And yet she showed no sign of magic. Apparently she had thrown a werewolf up against a wall, questioning him; but she had used no magic to do so. According to a few of the reports she hadn’t acted like an immortal; although as he himself was one, Magnus wasn’t so sure he could tell the difference on that particular matter.
It was confusing alright. And he doubted his sources would stop pestering him until he had at least looked into the matter. And besides, how hard could a young girl with pink hair searching for down worlder locations be to find?
Tonks knew she was leaving a messy trail behind her. She’s been loud, rude and as particularly obvious as she could be. She’d heard things about the werewolves and vampires of New York; not only were they far more organised than those back home (at least, those that she had dealt with)but they had whole networks connecting different packs and covenants, with any number of interesting individuals in between. It was these interesting individuals she was hoping to reach.
They had disappeared. Vanished from the face of the earth as if they had never existed. Except, they had existed. Her husband and son had been taken, and the only scrap of evidence that the auror team had been able to find pointed to New York. So here she was. A desperate, last attempt to find them after months of fruitless searching back home.
She still couldn’t believe it had happened. But she’d come home from work to find the place empty; a foul stench in the air and things shattered and torn. But the worst thing had been the ominous splatter of dark blood across the wall in her son’s bedroom. Tests had proven it not to belong to Remus or Teddy; but they had been inconclusive as to what kind of creature it was from at all. It wasn’t human; it didn’t belong to any recorded animal, magical or not. Investigators were at a loss. And the only clue had been two letters smeared on the door frame in blood; Remus’ blood. NY. She couldn’t think of anything else it could stand for. She had no idea why anyone would want her family in the first place. She was only sure that it had something to do with magic. Or werewolves, or both. And so that was what she had started searching for as soon as she had gotten off the plane.
She’d been successful enough; but so far no one seemed to know anything that was of any use to her. And every time she was thrown out or politely asked to leave somewhere, she left feeling sick to her stomach with the knowledge that, as of yet, she knew nothing more than she had on the other side of the world. But she would soldier on, travelling to the next werewolf bar or faerie grove. Someone had to know something.
She had been easy to find; although harder than he had thought. The trail of disaster she was leaving in her wake was easy enough to follow. It didn’t even take an hour to find every place she had visited. But finding the lovely lady herself was proving more of a challenge.
Magnus had always been up for a challenge.
It had taken a little organising, finding someone to watch the most obvious places she might go next. Unfortunately, there were quite a few of them. It was a shame, he thought, that no one had managed to so much as rip her clothes; even a scrap of material could have proven useful with a tracking spell. But doing things the old fashioned way had never really bothered him that much; it made everything much more exciting.
She was in the werewolf bar in China town when he caught up with her. And it looked like he’d arrived just in time; she was throwing back shots of gin with a vengeance, and the other customers were giving her as wide a berth as possible. Putting on a pleasant smile, Magnus slid onto the bar stool next to hers.
“Afternoon.”
She gave him a sidelong look, eyebrow raised. “Do I know you?”
“Oh, I doubt it.” He said airily. “I know you though. Of you, at least. And I thought it was time we were properly introduced. Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn.” He held out his hand.
The smile on her face was fleeting, but she shook it. “Nymphadora Lupin, but you can call me Tonks. Auror.”
He had no idea what that word meant. A spell, a greeting? Or was she perhaps insulting his glittering hair? If so, that seemed a bit hypocritical, he though, glancing at her short, bubblegum pink locks.
“That’s an interesting title,” she was saying. “I’ve never met a high Warlock before.”
“But you’ve had dealings with warlocks?”
Her face was blank before her brow furrowed. “That depends,” she said slowly, “on what you mean by warlock.”
He was taken aback by this statement, and it must have showed; the confusion on her own face grew.
“Look,” she said impatiently, “can you help me or not?”
Help her? With what?
He shrugged elegantly. “I'm sure I can be of some assistance. Follow me.”
She did so, her expression one of great interest as he led her upstairs to an old, rarely used office. Sitting in the chair behind the desk, he examined her properly.
She looked perfectly ordinary. A little older than he had imagined; tired and worn down. Her dark eyes sparkled though, despite her weariness, but he doubted that the short pink hair that framed her pale, heart shaped face was any kind of mark. People dyed their hair ludicrous colours these days, it could hardly be any more than that.
“What did you mean, downstairs?” he asked, starring at her. She was examining the surroundings, and turned back to him as she ran her fingers along the spines of old telephone books on shelves.
“Hmm? About warlocks, you mean? Well, what’s a warlock to you?”
“the off spring of a human and demon, bearing a demons mark. That's what a warlock is to me. That's what I am.”
Her face paled. “Half demon?” judging from her whispering, this was not what she thought a warlock to be.
He frowned. “What did you think it was?”
“Another word for a wizard!”
“So you’re not a warlock?”
“NO! Both my parents were human, I can assure you. Demon though? Really?”
He ignored the last question. He’d found out all he’d wanted to know. She wasn’t a warlock; the down worlders could stop worrying. “If you’re not a warlock, then what are you?”
She seemed hesitant to answer. Then, sighing, she finally said “A witch. And a metamorphmagus. What does this have to do with anything though? You said you could help; you haven’t been helpful at all so far!”
Interlocking his fingers, Magnus rested his chin on them. “Interesting. Very interesting.” He’d heard the rumours, of course. Some of the down worlders messed with other magical communities that were unaware of the existence of Nephlim. And if werewolves and vampires and faeries were real, it only made sense witches and wizards were too.
After a prolonged silence, she rolled her eyes, pulling a photo from her pocket. “Do you know where either of these people are?”
The photo showed a family, sitting around a large cake. Mother and father on either side, and a young boy with bright blue hair in the middle, blowing out candles. Because the picture was actually moving.
The woman in the picture was standing impatiently before him. The man looked much older than her; greying, with scars raking his face, but a pleasant smile and friendly eyes.
He hadn’t seen either the boy or him personally.
“Why do you ask?” he pushed the photo back.
“My husband and son were taken from our house.” She took a breath, pulling the free chair up to face him. “The place had been upturned, and the only clue were the letters NY, written in Remus’ blood.” She ran a finger over her husband’s photographic face.
“Anything else?” Magnus asked. He knew he shouldn’t be taking an interest... but he’d never met a witch before, and If truth be told, he was eager to see what she could do.
She shrugged. “There was dark blood on the wall, it couldn’t be identified. And the whole place reeked...”
“Like rotting death?” he enquired lightly. She nodded. “Demons. I suspected as much. Well, I’ll see what I can find out for you. Remus, and- what was your boys name?”
“Teddy. Teddy Lupin.”
“Right.” Picking up a piece of scrap paper, he scrawled a note on it, before sending it off into the flames he had just conjured in the fireplace. The note vanished in a haze of blue sparks. “I'm putting my best men on it, Tonks. Don’t you worry, I'm sure we’ll find them soon enough.”
She nodded, although she didn’t look too reassured.
Magnus just hoped Alec would regularly check his fireplace for mail. If not, he could be in a lot of trouble.
Fandom: Harry Potter/ Mortal Instruments.
Summary: Remus and Teddy have gone missing, and the only clue points to New York. However, the magical community she runs into there isnt quite what Tonks is used to...
Characters/ Pairings: Remus/Tonks,Magnus/Alec (more to come in later chapters)
Prompt: Mortal Instruments/Harry Potter cross over
Genre: romance, angst,adventure
Rating: pg
Word count: 1762
Magnus Bane was confused, and this was not something that happened often.
He was the high Warlock of Brooklyn; he had no idea why, but apparently this made him the person to send information to. Not that he was complaining; less effort on his part to know everything made the job easier. But he knew which sources were to be trusted, and which weren’t. He had always prided himself on the ability to know what was absolute rubbish, and what was the truth.
Only this time, he wasn’t so sure.
There were rumours flying in from every direction and source imaginable, and they were all pertaining to the same strange and seemingly impossible fact: a young woman had arrived in New York only days ago, a woman who was somehow a warlock but not a warlock at the same time.
How could that even be possible?
The reports were all hauntingly similar. She had to be a warlock, they all said. How else could she have discovered such heavily warded and defended down worlder haunts after being in the city mere hours? A mundane would have been fooled by a simple glamour, and she was no shadow hunter; her pale skin bore no marks. And they thought her hair must be her warlock mark, for it was a shocking, bright pink. All the reports confirmed it. And yet she showed no sign of magic. Apparently she had thrown a werewolf up against a wall, questioning him; but she had used no magic to do so. According to a few of the reports she hadn’t acted like an immortal; although as he himself was one, Magnus wasn’t so sure he could tell the difference on that particular matter.
It was confusing alright. And he doubted his sources would stop pestering him until he had at least looked into the matter. And besides, how hard could a young girl with pink hair searching for down worlder locations be to find?
Tonks knew she was leaving a messy trail behind her. She’s been loud, rude and as particularly obvious as she could be. She’d heard things about the werewolves and vampires of New York; not only were they far more organised than those back home (at least, those that she had dealt with)but they had whole networks connecting different packs and covenants, with any number of interesting individuals in between. It was these interesting individuals she was hoping to reach.
They had disappeared. Vanished from the face of the earth as if they had never existed. Except, they had existed. Her husband and son had been taken, and the only scrap of evidence that the auror team had been able to find pointed to New York. So here she was. A desperate, last attempt to find them after months of fruitless searching back home.
She still couldn’t believe it had happened. But she’d come home from work to find the place empty; a foul stench in the air and things shattered and torn. But the worst thing had been the ominous splatter of dark blood across the wall in her son’s bedroom. Tests had proven it not to belong to Remus or Teddy; but they had been inconclusive as to what kind of creature it was from at all. It wasn’t human; it didn’t belong to any recorded animal, magical or not. Investigators were at a loss. And the only clue had been two letters smeared on the door frame in blood; Remus’ blood. NY. She couldn’t think of anything else it could stand for. She had no idea why anyone would want her family in the first place. She was only sure that it had something to do with magic. Or werewolves, or both. And so that was what she had started searching for as soon as she had gotten off the plane.
She’d been successful enough; but so far no one seemed to know anything that was of any use to her. And every time she was thrown out or politely asked to leave somewhere, she left feeling sick to her stomach with the knowledge that, as of yet, she knew nothing more than she had on the other side of the world. But she would soldier on, travelling to the next werewolf bar or faerie grove. Someone had to know something.
She had been easy to find; although harder than he had thought. The trail of disaster she was leaving in her wake was easy enough to follow. It didn’t even take an hour to find every place she had visited. But finding the lovely lady herself was proving more of a challenge.
Magnus had always been up for a challenge.
It had taken a little organising, finding someone to watch the most obvious places she might go next. Unfortunately, there were quite a few of them. It was a shame, he thought, that no one had managed to so much as rip her clothes; even a scrap of material could have proven useful with a tracking spell. But doing things the old fashioned way had never really bothered him that much; it made everything much more exciting.
She was in the werewolf bar in China town when he caught up with her. And it looked like he’d arrived just in time; she was throwing back shots of gin with a vengeance, and the other customers were giving her as wide a berth as possible. Putting on a pleasant smile, Magnus slid onto the bar stool next to hers.
“Afternoon.”
She gave him a sidelong look, eyebrow raised. “Do I know you?”
“Oh, I doubt it.” He said airily. “I know you though. Of you, at least. And I thought it was time we were properly introduced. Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn.” He held out his hand.
The smile on her face was fleeting, but she shook it. “Nymphadora Lupin, but you can call me Tonks. Auror.”
He had no idea what that word meant. A spell, a greeting? Or was she perhaps insulting his glittering hair? If so, that seemed a bit hypocritical, he though, glancing at her short, bubblegum pink locks.
“That’s an interesting title,” she was saying. “I’ve never met a high Warlock before.”
“But you’ve had dealings with warlocks?”
Her face was blank before her brow furrowed. “That depends,” she said slowly, “on what you mean by warlock.”
He was taken aback by this statement, and it must have showed; the confusion on her own face grew.
“Look,” she said impatiently, “can you help me or not?”
Help her? With what?
He shrugged elegantly. “I'm sure I can be of some assistance. Follow me.”
She did so, her expression one of great interest as he led her upstairs to an old, rarely used office. Sitting in the chair behind the desk, he examined her properly.
She looked perfectly ordinary. A little older than he had imagined; tired and worn down. Her dark eyes sparkled though, despite her weariness, but he doubted that the short pink hair that framed her pale, heart shaped face was any kind of mark. People dyed their hair ludicrous colours these days, it could hardly be any more than that.
“What did you mean, downstairs?” he asked, starring at her. She was examining the surroundings, and turned back to him as she ran her fingers along the spines of old telephone books on shelves.
“Hmm? About warlocks, you mean? Well, what’s a warlock to you?”
“the off spring of a human and demon, bearing a demons mark. That's what a warlock is to me. That's what I am.”
Her face paled. “Half demon?” judging from her whispering, this was not what she thought a warlock to be.
He frowned. “What did you think it was?”
“Another word for a wizard!”
“So you’re not a warlock?”
“NO! Both my parents were human, I can assure you. Demon though? Really?”
He ignored the last question. He’d found out all he’d wanted to know. She wasn’t a warlock; the down worlders could stop worrying. “If you’re not a warlock, then what are you?”
She seemed hesitant to answer. Then, sighing, she finally said “A witch. And a metamorphmagus. What does this have to do with anything though? You said you could help; you haven’t been helpful at all so far!”
Interlocking his fingers, Magnus rested his chin on them. “Interesting. Very interesting.” He’d heard the rumours, of course. Some of the down worlders messed with other magical communities that were unaware of the existence of Nephlim. And if werewolves and vampires and faeries were real, it only made sense witches and wizards were too.
After a prolonged silence, she rolled her eyes, pulling a photo from her pocket. “Do you know where either of these people are?”
The photo showed a family, sitting around a large cake. Mother and father on either side, and a young boy with bright blue hair in the middle, blowing out candles. Because the picture was actually moving.
The woman in the picture was standing impatiently before him. The man looked much older than her; greying, with scars raking his face, but a pleasant smile and friendly eyes.
He hadn’t seen either the boy or him personally.
“Why do you ask?” he pushed the photo back.
“My husband and son were taken from our house.” She took a breath, pulling the free chair up to face him. “The place had been upturned, and the only clue were the letters NY, written in Remus’ blood.” She ran a finger over her husband’s photographic face.
“Anything else?” Magnus asked. He knew he shouldn’t be taking an interest... but he’d never met a witch before, and If truth be told, he was eager to see what she could do.
She shrugged. “There was dark blood on the wall, it couldn’t be identified. And the whole place reeked...”
“Like rotting death?” he enquired lightly. She nodded. “Demons. I suspected as much. Well, I’ll see what I can find out for you. Remus, and- what was your boys name?”
“Teddy. Teddy Lupin.”
“Right.” Picking up a piece of scrap paper, he scrawled a note on it, before sending it off into the flames he had just conjured in the fireplace. The note vanished in a haze of blue sparks. “I'm putting my best men on it, Tonks. Don’t you worry, I'm sure we’ll find them soon enough.”
She nodded, although she didn’t look too reassured.
Magnus just hoped Alec would regularly check his fireplace for mail. If not, he could be in a lot of trouble.