Chapter Text
Your heart pounded in your chest as you parked the car at the side of the road. You have been dreading this moment for days, ever since you realized the full extent of the trouble you were in. The secret you had kept for too long had finally caught up with you, and now you had no choice but to confess. Your mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions – guilt, shame, fear of your mother’s reaction.
Taking a deep breath, you stuffed the black letter you had received two days ago into your coat. Your familiar, a Siamese cat, was now stretching after he had finished his nap on the passenger seat. You checked the rearview mirror, opened the car door, and stepped out. The blast of a truck horn pierced the quiet morning, startling you, as a monstrous rig roared past, narrowly missing you. Instinctively you shouted an expletive after the driver, your voice echoing in the wake of the speeding vehicle. Turning back to the car, you saw Nanuk staring at you. A meow. Rolling your eyes in exasperation, you replied, “Yes, yes, I checked before getting out. Now, come on.”
He jumped over the center console and out of the car. You slammed the door shut and hurried across the street – but not before making sure there was no oncoming traffic this time – still trying to calm your racing heart and gather your thoughts.
As you stepped into the shop, a chime greeted you. Nanuk dashed past you and toward the curtains, his tail twitching with excitement. The gentle tune that drifted through the room brought a sense of tranquility.
“Welcome to the curious.” Lilia emerged from behind the curtains.
Your heart sank. Your mom’s expression was one of surprise, but there was an undercurrent of something else, a hint of worry perhaps. She seemed a bit through the wind, but that was a fairly regular occurrence for her. Your familiar rubbed his head against Lilia’s leg, purring loudly.
“Ciao, Picciridda.” She opened her arms, a touch of concern in her voice, “What brings you here? Are you in trouble?”
“Ehi, Muma! Thanks for assuming the worst.” You smiled, walking over for the hug. A familiar scent of lemon wafted from her, evoking nostalgic memories of your childhood. It was a scent that had always been associated with her, a comforting reminder of home and family. She was a bit smaller than you now, but you could still remember the days when she seemed so much bigger.
“I just made some tea, vai, vai,” she said, shooing you toward the curtains, “I'm closing the shop.”
You approached the door of her living space, calling for your familiar when he didn’t follow because a plant seemed to have spiked his interest. He began chewing on some green. Then you heard the door chime and your mother’s surprised gasp.
“We’re closed for the afternoon,” Lilia said, her voice stern but tinged with a friendly lilt.
“Good day, madam, I am Patricia Montgomery from the Occupational Safety and Health Administration. We are conducting a routine inspection of your workplace today to ensure compliance with safety and health regulations.” Your stomach twisted into knots when you heard the voice.
“Cut the crap, Harkness. What do you want?” Lilia hissed.
“You should know,” Agatha said, her voice dripping with amusement, “It says psychic readings on your door.”
Your pulse quickened as you strained to hear their conversation. You had fled the continent, across the sea, to escape your conscience, only to be back for two hours and run into Agatha. Of All people. Fate had a cruel sense of humor.
Agatha sighed, “It’s up to you, Lilia. Help me willingly, or l’ll make you.”
“You’ve got the nerve to threaten me in my own home?”
Dread gnawed at you as you contemplated the confrontation. Agatha’s reaction loomed large in your mind. A flicker of hope ignited within you – perhaps, just perhaps, she could find it in her heart to forgive you. If you could just explain everything to her. Better late than never, right? But that seemed like a long shot. The thought of her never forgiving you sent a chill down your spine.
“I do. You know who I am, so you know these aren’t empty words. And I am growing impatient.” Agatha’s tone, though even, carried a subtle undercurrent of frustration.
“I’ll risk that. Beat it, Harkness.”
You heard Agatha snort in disbelief and rounded the corner just in time to see her raising her hand for a spell. Your reflexes were as sharp as ever, when you sent a counter-spell her way. The magical energy collided in a dazzling display of light, the air crackling with the potency of your combined forces. Your spell had caught her off guard. She landed on the floor with a thud, her breath knocked out of her. For a moment, she lay there motionless, the embarrassment of the situation catching up with her.
Your mother’s grip tightened around your hands. “Do not attack her with your magic!”
You glance at the brunette, who was lifting her head and slowly standing up now, her piercing stare fixated on you. “Well, hello, I see you got yourself a bodyguard, Lilia. Psychic readings are a tough business. Or is it the Cosa Nostra?” she sneered.
“You will be leaving now.” You were almost surprised at how convincingly monotonous that sentence came out of your mouth.
Agatha let out a low chuckle. “No, I don’t think so,” she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and stepping closer. You couldn’t read her expression under the typical arrogance she puts up for strangers.
Your mother grabbed your arm, trying to hold you back; you brushed her off. “I don’t need magic to kick her ass–” you started, but your words were cut short. Surprised, you placed a hand to your throat, feeling a strange sensation. Your voice had been silenced. You looked at Agatha. Her smirk was a taunting challenge. She wagged a finger at you. “Not now, hon. The adults are talking.”
A surge of frustration and anger bubbled up within you. You knew your anger was misplaced, but how dare that witch silence you? You tried to speak, but your voice remained stubbornly mute. You could only clench your fists and glare at her. She seemed to enjoy your predicament. Maybe you deserved this. Actions have consequences. The weight of your guilt pressed down on you again, a heavy, suffocating burden.
Agatha leaned in closer to your mother, who was impressively calm. Her voice dropped to a low, menacing growl. “You see, Lilia, someone accidentally released a demon... against better judgment and even though I warned them. Twice. And now I have to clean up after them.” She glanced at you, the look so fleeting you weren’t sure if your mother had noticed. Agatha continued, her voice rising with tension. “It’s a bit of a mess, if you know what I mean. I’m looking for the vessel... to send the demon back to hell. Now this is where you come in: you will help me find that vessel.”
Your mother didn’t hesitate, her eyes darting between Agatha and you. “I’ll help you,” she said, “but first, you’ll lift the spell.”
Agatha seemed to consider this for a moment, her eyes narrowing at you. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she lifted the spell. You felt a surge of energy flow through you as the silence was broken.
“Please,” Lilia gestured towards the table where she usually conducted her psychic readings. Agatha sat down and looked around the room, her eyes taking in every detail. “This is a cozy little place you have here,” she remarked, voice laced with sarcasm. Your mother ignored the comment and squirreled around.
“So what does she pay you? You weren’t half bad.” Agatha leaned back in the chair. Apparently she was playing the ‘stranger’ card. It was okay for you since your mother didn’t have to know everything. Not like that. Your arms were crossed as you walked closer to the table, still with that defensive attitude. “She doesn’t pay me anything.”
Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is a purely physical relationship ?” she emphasizes the last part of the question weirdly to get a reaction from you.
A startled ‘ew’ slipped past your lips before you could contain it.
“Oh, come on, Lilia doesn’t look that bad,” Agatha winked, her eyes twinkling with amusement. A moment later, her face lit up with realization. “Unless,” she grinned, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, I know who you are.” She turned to Lilia. “She’s your daughter. Yes, yes, now I see the resemblance. I should have noticed that sooner. Why didn’t I?” she muttered the last part under her breath, then rambled on, "Who would’ve thought, Lilia Calderu has a daughter, why didn’t you ever tell me? I could’ve been the coolest aunt.”
You couldn’t resist. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
Agatha gasped in mock offense. “Gee girl, manners!”
“Rich of you to demand manners, after barging in here and threatening my mother,” you retorted.
The brunette clutched her pearls, feigning outrage. “Lilia, you got what you were looking for?” she asked, turning to your mother again. “Your daughter seems a bit hostile towards me.”
Your mother sighed, her patience wearing thin. “Enough, both of you,” she said, her voice firm. She placed an old compass down on the table and carefully moved the crystal ball aside.
Agatha scoffed, her disbelief evident.
“Open your hands,” Lilia commanded as she sat down opposite Agatha who immediately complied, her palms outstretched.
Lilia placed the compass in the center and her own hands on top. A low chant escaped her lips, her voice rising in pitch and intensity. The room seemed to grow quiet, the only sound was her rhythmic incantation. Then her body stiffened, and she let out a startled scream.
Agatha flinched slightly at the scream, her gaze shifting to you. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a flicker of worry in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that you weren’t sure if you had imagined it.
A swirling mass of purple and blue mist appeared in the crystal ball, the colors merging and swirling in a mesmerizing dance. Then the mist went black. You moved closer to the table, your curiosity was piqued.
Lilia grunted as she returned from her vision. Her breathing was ragged and she needed a moment to collect herself, to ground herself back in reality.
“Did it work?” Agatha asked, her voice filled with impatience.
Lilia stood up. “The compass will lead you to the artifact you are looking for,” Lilia said, her voice final as if she was dismissing Agatha.
“I need a protection witch.” Agatha looked at you.
Lilia scoffed. “Why does the infamous Agatha Harkness need protection?” Her question was rhetorical, a way of expressing her disbelief.
Something about Agatha’s demeanor had shifted, her arrogance replaced by a hint of vulnerability. “I’m not especially proud to tell you, but let’s say I noticed some worrying little inconsistencies when using my magic lately.”
“What kind of inconsistencies?” you asked, your voice softer; but your mother talked over you: “Good luck finding one – one that isn’t cuckoo. Because no witch in her right mind would join Agatha Harkness. And now leave my business, or else.”
Agatha grinned. “Oh, aren’t we all a little unhinged? Every witch has her process,” she said, standing up and holding the compass. Then she turned to you, her gaze expectant. “What do you say, Y/N?” she asked, her voice laced with a hint of challenge.
Your eyes met your mother’s, a silent plea for understanding. You knew her opposition was unwavering. But you also knew you had to join Agatha. It was the only logical course of action. Agatha had mentioned inconsistencies with her magic, and you were certain she had received those letters as well. You had to explain everything to your mother, but your decision was final.
“I’m coming with you.”