Chapter 3

ROCK IN A HARD PLACE

SOUNDTRACK ROCK IN A HARD PLACE BY DAVID RAMIREZ

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, kudos, liked, favorite, bookmarked, subscribed, and followed this story. I love you guys for sticking in there with me. Seriously, this chapter was a bitch to write, and I had to rewrite it multiple times to even get to this point. I also forgot to say if you want to see the behind the scene process feel free to check me out on twitter (www dot twitter dot com slash jazzmaymay) and be sure to follow this series' tumblr blog (www dot letscrissandcross dot tumblr dot com) for the extras which I don't have a lot this chapter, sorry.

Also thanks once again to my beta extraordinaire, bigkolaheaven who whipped this chapter into shape. All the remaining mistakes are mine, because I like to constantly tweak things. Enjoy!

"Oh Jesus, please don't be dead!"

I gave a long drawn out moan as I tried to move. My whole body was radiating pain, and my head was throbbing. It felt like I went through ten rounds with bloody Mike Tyson. 'What the hell happened?'

"Oh, thank god!"

I fluttered my eyes open to see a blurry figure standing above me. After a moment, my sight began to focus and I saw a frantic looking man standing above me.

"W-What?" I croaked out.

"You been out for like five minutes," The man said, throwing his hands in the air. "And I don't know… everything just went crazy and then you just fell…"

It took a moment for my fuzzy brain to process what he just said. My eyes went wide as everything abruptly came back to me. I felt the bile rise up in my throat, and it was all I could do not to throw up. I did it again. I had lost control of my magic. Yet as the man knelt down beside me my eyes snapped to a large blood stain on his leg.

"You're hurt!"

"No," He shook his head, then grimaced. "Well, only a little."

"I'm so sorry," I said before I turned away from his obvious concerned gaze.

"It wasn't your fault."

I looked away then, as my guilt began to overwhelm me. I froze, my mouth dropped as I took in the wreck of the shop. Clothing racks and furniture were overturned. The clothes were strewn all over the shop and the nicely framed photo frames were laying broken on the floor. The windows and the glass door were broken, and just beyond them I could see a crowd gathering.

Oh god, what if someone got a picture of my face? What if the Aurors were on their way? Best case scenario, I would be booted back to England. The worst being that I quite likely would end up going to prison. 'I have to get out of here!'

Now that the pain had begun to recede, I shakily grabbed on to the nearby overturned clothing rack. Then turned and started to look frantically for my purse.

"Just wait a minute." The man said as he tried to approach me, but I jerked away and put my hands up. I called 911 and the paramedics are on their way."

"No, I'm fine," I said, trying to sound reassuring. It probably came out more hysterical than what I intended.

Shaking my head, I gave a sigh of relief when I saw that my purse was only a few feet away. Unfortunately, all my purse's contents had spilled out. I hurried over to my purse and practically threw everything into it.

"C'mon, at least get checked out." The man pleaded, taking a step forward. I stumbled away, then swiftly made my way precariously through the shop. Not caring at all about the clothes and the scattered glass underneath that I stepped on as I fled the shop.

I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd of curious onlooker

"WAIT!"

I heard as I hurried down the street, but I didn't dare turn back as I started to break out into a run

I ran for what seemed like hours. When I finally had to stop to catch my breath I spotted a nearby alley and slipped inside. I needed to get away from people, I needed to think, and right now in my state of mind I didn't think catching a taxi or getting on the subway was safe. So I walked further into the alley until I got to a dead-end. I shuttered as I knocked my head against the wall.

I was totally and utterly fucked.

I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the filthy ground. I put my arms around my knees, and suddenly I started to cry. I had hurt someone with my magic. It's one thing to just shatter some windows, but this time I had hurt someone and it didn't matter that it was probably only a shallow wound, the problem was that it could have been that much worse. What if I had killed the shopkeeper?

I could had killed that poor man just because he denied to sell me a dress.

I wiped away my tears, my hand stained black with my mascara. There was no other choice: I had to leave Gotham. I was obviously a danger to myself and others. I wanted to scream, I hated to throw things, and just fucking have a tantrum because I was so damn close to having the fresh start that I wanted so badly.

All those months of meticulous planning just went down the loo. I guess the Potter luck was catching up to me once again. I was back to square one, and I had nowhere to go. I couldn't go back to England. I just knew the moment I stepped on English soil that Hermione would track me down, and I would be dragged back kicking and screaming back into the world that not only hated me; but wanted to shove me back into their straight and narrow little box.

I was just so angry, and frustrated because Gotham despite its various faults had been the perfect place to hide. The city's ambient magic would make it practically impossible for anyone to find me, but my magic just had to start having a mind of its sodding own.

There was nothing for it. I had to leave Gotham tonight. I gave a long resigned sigh and stood up unsteadily to my feet. I think I was just calm enough to risk taking a taxi back to the hotel. It was a shame that I couldn't just apparate back, but I would probably have another episode like I had today and I didn't want to hurt anyone. I also didn't want to make it that much easier for the American Ministry track my magical signature.

All I could do now was pray to Merlin that I wouldn't injure anyone on the way home.

I left the taxi driver waiting with a promise of a generous tip if he stayed. Thankfully, it took less than ten minutes to pack up my toiletries and the few souvenirs that I had brought earlier. Once at the airport, I would take the first plane out of Gotham, and then I would figure out where to go later.

I picked up my luggage and headed to the door. The hotel phone started to ring. I turned around, my eyes going wide as I stared at the phone. Who could be calling? Maybe it was the old woman who managed the hotel?

The phone rang again, and I sighed and went over to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Is this Aster?"

My face went abruptly pale, as I gripped the phone tightly to my ear. I was new in town, and honestly no one should of had my number. "W-Who is this?"

"This is Zachary."

"Who?"

"I work at Pinky's Boutique," He replied, sheepishly. "Like down in the fashion district?"

"Oh shite," I cursed quietly as I sank back down on the bed. "How did you get this number?"

"Um, the number to the hotel was in your phone." The man…Zachary said

"Oh god," I said. "How did you get this number? How did you find me?" \

"I found your phone."

I nearly fell off the bed. "No. I have my phone right here…" I trailed off as I bent down and snatched up my bag from off the floor. I swiftly looked through the bag, but I didn't find my brand new mobile inside. "Oh fuck."

"Yeah, that's what I was trying to tell you."

There was no doubt about it. I was totally and utterly fucked. This person knew who I was, and if the Aurors were looking for the person who caused a major magical disturbance right in front of muggles no less; it was pretty much a matter of time before they tracked me down.

I stood up and was just about to slam down the phone and make a run for it when I heard:

"Don't worry, I didn't tell them anything."

I just stood there, feeling as if my heart was about to beat right out of my chest as I still clutched the phone receiver. "W-What are you talking about?" "I demanded because there was just no way that he didn't report me to the authorities after I destroyed the shop.

I jumped as I heard the taxi driver honk his horn.

I knew that I had to leave, but honestly at this point I had nowhere to go, what happened earlier was probably on the internet already, and I was surprised that the hotel room wasn't already crawling with pissed off Aurors.

Now, that Zachary probably gave them my new identity, there was nowhere I could run. It would be that much easier for them to track me down. But why did Zachary call me then? Was he trying to stall me for the Aurors? It made no sense, especially since the Aurors would never evolve a muggle in one of their cases.

"Hello?" Zachary asked, "Are you still there?"

"Y-Yeah" I stuttered, as I wiped a shaking hand across my face. I suddenly found myself blurting out: "What do you want from me?"

"I just want to give you your phone back, that's all."

I snorted, "Right."

"Look, just because 90% of this town is morally bankrupt doesn't mean I am, dude." He replied, with a slight hint of frustration in his voice. "I didn't tell them anything."

"What?"

"I didn't tell the cops that you basically wrecked the whole store," Zachary said. "And let me tell you, Pinky wasn't a happy camper when I told him.

I opened my mouth, then snapped it closed and shook my head. So he knew I was responsible for the shop. A muggle had diffidently saw what I had done. I felt an of shock, guilt, and shame in my stomach that made feel making feeling more than a bit sick. "I'm so sorry. I'm willing to pay for all the damages—"

"Hold on," Zachary said, interrupting me. "Luckily for the both of us, Pinky has great insurance"

"But—"

"Also," He continued to talk over me. "You cutting Pinky a check for the damages would be a bit hard to explain after I told Pinky and the cops that the shop was hit with an earthquake."

"An earthquake? And they just believed you?"

"Trust me, a sudden earthquake won't even make the top ten list of weird shit that has happened in this city this week," Zachary chuckled. "Besides, the Aurors would have my ass in a sling if I told muggles what really had happened."

"What?" I pulled the phone away to throw a dazed look down at it. Did Zachary say what I thought he just said? I put the phone back to my ear, and blurted out: "How?"

"Would it make you feel better if I told you that I'm a squib?"

"Uh, yes?" I shook my head, feeling as if I was suddenly in ''The Twilight Zone'.

He snorted, "Believe me, you were pretty lucky that nobody in this damned city asks any questions or you would be in deep shit."

All I could say to that was, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Zachary replied. "I'm going to be honest with you, what you did was pretty scary."

I closed my eyes and hung my head. "I'm so sorry for hurting you and the shop. I didn't mean too, it's just this damn city-"

"-Is hell on you, magic users." Zachary finished. "It's one of the reasons why there aren't a lot of magic users in Gotham. The city's magic will either make you run for the hills or drive you batshit insane."

"That's comforting to hear."

"Look, it's a long shot but I might know someone that can help."

"Really, what's the catch?"

"One, they are very hard to find," Zachary replied, "Two if they decide to help, you will owe them a favor. And they are not the type of people you want to owe, if you know what I mean."

"So these people are really bad news then?"

"No, they are just amoral." Zachary clarified. "So will you meet me tomorrow?"

The taxi driver honked his horn again, and I sighed rubbing my forehead. Did I really want to trust this stranger? Honestly, I should just leave. It would be better for everyone in the end, but they aren't a whole lot of places that I could avoid detection, especially with me being such a powerful witch. It was also a bonus that other witches and wizards gave Gotham a wide berth.

Gotham was overrun with costumed lunatics, meta-humans, crime, and corruption. Yet, I couldn't deny anymore that there was something else that drew me to Gotham. The draw to the city was both frustratingly intangible and indiscernible; I felt like the proverbial moth to a flame.

If I had an ounce of self-preservation I would leave Gotham and never look back. I gave a loud snort. Since when have I ever had any self-preservation? Really, it was too late to pretend I have some now.

I took a huge breath and said: "Fine."

"I have to go into work early tomorrow so you can meet me thee around 3 o'clock."

I winced, "I don't think I should show my face at the boutique."

"Lucky for you, I don't often work at the boutique."

"You don't?"

Yeah, Pinky is a family, friend." Zachary replied, sheepishly. "He sometimes let me pick up extra hours there."

"So where do you work?"

"Crossroads Café in Old Town."

"Yeah, I have no idea where that is."

"I'll give you the address." Zachary relayed me the address, which I swiftly scribbled on the back of a receipt before he finally hung up. The taxi driver honked his horn again, and I honestly was still surprised that the driver hadn't just abandoned me at this point. I shook my head, grabbed my purse and headed outside to pay the driver.

I guess I was staying in Gotham for the time being.

To Be Continued in Chapter Four