Rating: Some iffy language, violence
Book or TV verse: All TV verse
Disclaimer: Dresden Files belongs to Jim Butcher and Scifi Channel
Warnings: Some violence, hints of gore, Butters, Polka, and angst

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We pulled up at Monty's just before midnight. The full moon appeared now and again from behind clouds.

"So, midnight.. full moon.. that's bad, right?"

Robert shot me a sullen look and said nothing.

Great, I was going into the warehouse with a service pistol and a pouting ghost.

"Oh for heaven's sake, say whatever you want."

"Connie, please don't go in there alone."

"I am going in. I need your help, your knowledge. Please."

He took a deep breath and nodded.

"I will do what I can, My Lady."

Well, technically I hadn't told him not to call me THAT.

I grabbed the skull and started toward the door of the warehouse.

I tried to open the door as silently as I could. I stepped through the doorway, Robert stepped through the door. Show off.

I heard a young man's voice speaking loudly in Latin or something. It was coming from the other end of the warehouse, behind huge stacks of tires that stretched across the entire width of the building

I had my pistol out as I slowly crept between stacks of tires. There was now a light growing, crackling of energy and I heard someone cackle. Dear lord the boy was actually cackling. The smell of ozone replaced the smell of tires.

I moved in his direction. I peered around the last row of tires. The kid was dressed in all black (surprise) Lightning shifted colors and moved between him and a body. No, it was Harry, unconscious or dead. They were both inside a huge chalk circle. Candles marked the edge and a large book rested open against Harry's body, the kid was reading it.

"What is he doing?" I hissed at Robert.

He took a look and paled. Hell, he went transparent.

"Nononono, it can't be" the ghost sank to his knees, leaning against a pillar of tires. He began to rock back and forth. His eyes were wide and shock showed on his face.

"Robert, stop it, tell me what he's doing" He stopped rocking for a moment, but would not look at me.

"I know that spell" he said "he's going to steal Harry's energy." His voice trailed off low and mournful "His energy, his memories, his skills, his magic. Oh Gd not Harry please! Nonono not Harry" He was rocking again.

The boy raised a knife, ready to plunge it into Harry's throat. That was all I needed to see. I emptied my clip into the young Sorcerer. Murderer. Serial killer. Child.

I ran to Harry. I searched for a pulse. He was alive! Battered, bruised and bloody, but alive. The kid had no pulse. I'm a damn good shot.

I looked around for Robert. I could still hear a faint "nononono" coming from behind the tires.

"Robert! Get over here now!" what had gotten into him?

He staggered over. He was moving like a man who was drunk, or perhaps drugged. He would not look up, would not look at me.

"Will you check Harry out, please?"

I pulled my cell phone out and called 911, gave them my badge number and told them to get an ambulance here yesterday. "Police involved shooting" I told them.

"Harry is seriously hurt. He needs to be in a hospital. He might not make it." Robert's voice grew more frantic as he spoke. "He's going to die. My fault, my fault." He was staring at the book that was now lying open on the floor. His expression was one of horror and guilt. He was rocking again. "Destroy me, Connie" He was pleading. "Please. Crush the skull, burn the book."

"Robert! Look at me! What is wrong? Tell me." I used my best Cop Command voice.

"Its mine." he said, barely looking up. "The book. It's mine." He shuddered, stopped rocking, and finally looked at me. "You must burn it. " then he added choking back a sob "and destroy me"

A suicidal ghost? How do you talk a GHOST out of suicide?

I picked up the book, and closed it without looking in it.

"You wrote this?" I asked "A book of black magic?"

He nodded the misery coming off him was almost a physical force.

"My last grimoire. I wrote a few. All full of black magic. This one contained my most profoundly black and powerful magic. I thought they had all been burned." He was rocking again. "There is a reason I was cursed this way." And then a low whisper "I deserve it."

"Well then, Robert, I can't destroy you, can I?"

He met my gaze. I nearly reeled back. Green eyes. Old eyes. Ancient eyes with a thousand years of pain. He closed them against tears. He nodded, swallowed hard, breathed deeply and stopped rocking. He stood up and squared his shoulders.

"I am your loyal servant, My Lady" He said in a ragged voice and disappeared into his skull just as the EMS team and the police barged in.

---

I was cleared in the shooting. The knife matched the wounds in the boy's nine victims and his Mother. Butters was relieved that he didn't have to testify about the strange wounds. Everyone was, really.

Now I just have to live with having killed a child.

The strange occult book found at the scene mysteriously disappeared from evidence lockup. I burned it in my fireplace. Robert seemed satisfied with that. He was relieved, at least.

Harry was in the hospital for well over three months. He died on the table during the emergency surgery. They managed to revive him but he was in a coma for two days. He had too many broken bones to count and needed several surgeries to repair his legs and face.

I visited Harry every day I could. He was in a great deal of pain at first. I browbeat him into accepting the morphine. Men.

I told Harry a bare outline of how I had met Robert, and how we had searched for and found him. Robert should decide how much of the story he wants to tell Harry.

He told me how the Forth boy had trapped him with an arcane spell from the grimoire. Then he had called a demon; one that grew and grew. Harry had literally been stepped on. The boy had used black magic to keep Harry alive until the time was right to cast the spell that stole Harry's knowledge and skill. I wasn't about to tell Robert about that.

Robert stayed in my home while Harry was in the hospital. He really is useful. Every morning and evening he ran down my day's to-do list -- unfortunately he would also badger me about what I left unfinished. He kept track of groceries, the laundry, and watched my daughter after school.

He knows some delicious recipes, and dirty jokes, and VERY dirty jokes. The first time I sprayed beer through him as he stood in front of me telling a joke taught him to hold the punch line until after I swallow. He really can be cranky sometimes.

He is second to none as a tutor. My daughter adores him, and works harder for him than I would have believed possible. He's even persuaded her to like math. Now THAT is what I call magic.

He absolutely loves cable television. I left it on the romance channel every day when I went to work. The reformed ancient evil sorcerer cries at romantic movies. Go figure.

I will give Harry his skull back, of course. I am no fit guardian.

I have gotten used to hearing the truth, and discovered that maybe I am better off not knowing some things. Like what happened the day I blacked out that causes my nightmares. Why Harry looks so terrifying in some of them. What had he risked when he used black magic to save me? I have not asked Robert about this. He might know the answers.

Plus, I don't want to become comfortable having that kind of power over someone. I think he'll be happier with Harry. They need each other.

I just hope Harry will let Robert continue to tutor my daughter.