Chapter Text
***
As the heavy wooden door closes behind him, Harry waits a few beats for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting inside. Once they do, it’s clear the place is busy, which is understandable for a Friday evening. But this particular pub always seems to be busy as a baseline.
Luckily though, Harry is still able to skirt his way around two large ogres idling in the entryway, and snag an empty booth near the back. A quick glance around the pub reveals that he is one of only a few other humans amongst the crowd. Not all that surprising, The Haunted Raven is known to cater to a largely mythical clientele.
Harry’s always had a soft spot for this pub, it has a certain charm to it. And not the magical kind, the character kind. It may be a bit dingy, the seats worn, and at least half of the drink ware is cracked or tarnished; but the beers are always cold and the atmosphere lively.
As far as being outnumbered by the magical and mythical, Harry doesn’t mind that part either. His mum raised him to judge people by their ethics and their actions, not their species.
And besides that, Harry grew up attending one of the few mixed-species primary schools in the country, and then a mixed Uni later in life.
So unlike some of the other humans he knows that go out of their way to patron human-dominant spaces, Harry’s always felt much more comfortable in places like this.
Harry has just barely settled in his seat and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt, when someone glides effortlessly up to the edge of his table.
“Hey H, whatta ya having today?” Zayn asks in that slow, slightly detached tone that Harry knows is at a least partly an act.
Zayn Malik has owned the Haunted Raven for as long as Harry has been coming here. But how someone in their early thirties managed to come into possession of a business, Harry has no idea. Of course, that’s assuming Zayn is around the same age as Harry. Zayn has never actually confirmed his age.
Although Harry does consider Zayn to be one of his good friends, there’s still a lot he doesn’t know about him.
Harry doesn’t take it personally though. Zayn is very much a man of mystery. That’s kind of his whole schtick.
Harry gives him a warm smile. “Hey Z. I’ll just have a beer today.” He points to the empty seat across from him. “And one for Ni too.” He clicks on his phone screen where it’s sat on the table to check the time and then grins. “That is if he isn’t standing me up.”
Zayn just nods. “He’ll be here.” He says definitively, as if there’s no question.
Harry knows Zayn’s confidence isn’t just because Niall is a stand-up bloke with a solid track record of keeping his promises. Even though all of that is true.
It’s also because Zayn is a psychic. A good one.
Again, Zayn doesn’t talk about it much, so Harry doesn’t know a lot of details about his abilities. But he’s gotten the impression over the years that Zayn views it as more of a curse than a gift.
Then again, maybe that’s just part of the tortured artist aesthetic Zayn has going on.
What Harry does know is that Zayn’s visions are unpredictable and often difficult to interpret, usually mysteriously vague in meaning.
It seems odd that he would see something as mundane as Niall showing up for their regularly scheduled pub night in one of his premonitions.
Harry is about to question it, when he’s distracted by someone sliding into the booth across from him.
Niall is grinning as always, but it’s obvious by his mussed dirty blonde hair, wrinkled navy suit, and the way his normally bright blue eyes have gone a bit dim that he’s had a long day.
And although Harry strongly believed in their mission, and he still does, that’s the one thing he does not miss about working as a lawyer in the public defender’s office. Operating under a constant state of near exhaustion is a hard way to live.
Not that Harry isn’t still busy at the private law firm he’s been working at for the last few months. It’s just that the workload is much more balanced.
Zayn gives Niall a rare smile before nodding his head in Harry’s direction. “Told him ya weren’t going to ghost him. Will have your beers right out.”
And with that he’s gone, as if by magic. Sometimes Harry thinks Zayn might be the one who’s a ghost.
“Oi!” Niall says faux-offended. “I’m not late.” He glances at the watch on his wrist and his naturally pale face turns a bit pink in embarrassment. “Or at least not that late.”
Harry’s face softens. “Don’t worry about it Ni, Zayn was just taking the piss. You know I don’t mind. I know how busy you are.”
Niall nods gratefully. “I know, and thanks H.”
Harry first met Niall back when they were baby-faced students in law school. The first things Harry noticed about Niall was that he was Irish, loud, and always the one making the room laugh. All those things are still true, but they’re both a bit older now.
They look a bit older now too of course. Niall’s hair is less bleach-blonde since he ditched the dye, and Harry’s is a lot shorter since he couldn’t be arsed to do the maintenance that shoulder length curls require.
In those early years they’d bonded over their love of golf, classic rock bands like the Eagles, and their shared pure (and maybe slightly naive) belief that they could make a positive change in the world using the law.
When they’d both been hired at the public defender’s office fresh out of school, it had felt like a dream come true.
And it was, for fives years, despite the grueling hours. But when the prestigious private firm of Corden, Winston, and Grimshaw had reached out to Harry with an impressive paying offer to join them as an associate attorney, it seemed too good to pass up.
And while Harry certainly doesn’t miss the constant hours and impossible case load of the public defender’s office, he does miss seeing Niall everyday and getting to bounce ideas off his best friend who also happens to be a very talented lawyer.
Harry’s pulled out of his thoughts when two large steins of beer get plopped down on the table between them.
“Don’t worry about the tab, it’s on the house.” Zayn says as he puts them down.
Harry furrows his brows. Although he and Niall consider Zayn a good friend, they always pay at the pub. They insist, and Zayn doesn’t fight them on it.
Usually. But something on his face today tells Harry arguing would be useless.
“Don’t worry about it.” Is all Zayn says before he gives Niall a look that Harry can’t decipher. “I have a feeling you won’t be staying long anyway. Have a good night lads.”
And with that, he’s gone.
Harry raises both brows. Zayn is being weird. Or, weirder than normal anyway.
He’s still frowning when he looks back over at Niall. His friend looks a lot less confused and a little more sheepish.
Harry feels that little space between his brows wrinkle as his frown somehow manages to get deeper.
“What’s he talking about Ni?”
“Bloody nosy psychics.” Niall murmurs under his breath before letting out a heavy sigh.
He gestures across the table at Harry’s still untouched beer. “Was going to at least let you finish your pint before I brought it up.”
Harry feels his insides clench a bit. Although he takes his job extremely seriously, it’s not like Niall to be this solemn. At least not outside of the courtroom or the office.
“Bring what up?” Harry asks as he finally takes a sip of his drink. Something tells him he might need the alcohol more than he thought he would when he walked in here tonight.
Niall sighs again. “I know that you don’t work in the pub office anymore, and I respect that you have your own clients now and a firm to keep happy. It’s just…”
He hesitates for a moment, almost as if he’s trying to decide if he should even finish that sentence. But eventually he does.
“It’s just that I could really use your help on this case that just came across my desk. Your firm allows you to take on one pro-bono case of your choosing per year yeah?”
Harry hums, running his fingers absently through his short chestnut curls. “I mean, yeah. But I wasn’t planning to do that until maybe towards the end of the year when I’m a bit more settled. I’m still learning the inner-workings of the firm, and establishing my own client base. Not to mention, I still have to prove myself to my new bosses. I want to show them I take my work seriously. The work that they have already assigned to me.”
Niall nods. “I know, and I totally respect that. I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important H.”
His voice goes a bit more pleading then. “Dire actually.”
Although Harry is still a tiny bit annoyed that Niall’s sprung this on him when they’re meant to have a lads night to decompress, even more than that he’s also a little curious and mostly worried. This all feels wildly out of character for Niall, and pairing that with how odd Zayn was being earlier, it has him feeling anxious and on edge.
For the briefest moments Harry wonders if maybe this is one of Niall’s elaborate pranks that he’s known for, but as he stares into his friend’s serious blue eyes, he knows in his heart that this is real.
He lets out a soft sigh, defeated. “I’m not committing to anything yet, but go on and at least tell me about the case.”
Niall immediately breaks out into a grin, the relief on his face palpable.
“Thank you.” He breathes out before continuing.
“A witch from here in town has been arrested and taken into custody. The emergency bail hearing is scheduled for tonight.”
Niall glances down at his watch again. “In just a few hours actually. And we need to make sure he can get bail, otherwise he’ll be spending the night, and however long it takes to get a trial date, in Malum.”
Harry raises a brow. Malum is the maximum security facility that specializes in the incarceration of known violent criminals, usually mythical. He’s visited clients there before. But he’s never heard of someone being sent there before they’ve been convicted in a trial, and certainly not before the bail hearing has been decided. Most times in these sorts of situations, the suspect would be held at a local precinct.
“Why would he be in Malum already?” He asks.
Niall nods, his normally jovial blue eyes full of fire. “Exactly. That’s why we need to make sure he gets bail.”
Harry raises both brows this time, he’s starting to feel like maybe he isn’t getting the whole story here. “Surely there has to be some kind of justification for taking him there, instead of one of the lower level facilities while he waits for trial?”
Niall presses his lips into a thin line. Clearly he was hoping Harry wouldn’t push for details, although he’s pretty certain his friend already knew he would. They know each other way too well at this point to play games.
“They claim that it’s justified due to the nature of the crime. They say it would pose a threat to society if he isn’t properly detained until the trial.”
Harry feels an eerie chill slither down his spine. This is bad, he can already sense it.
Even without being a psychic like Zayn.
He pauses for a few beats before finally asking the question he isn’t sure he even wants the answer to. “What is he being accused of?”
“Performing black magic.”
Harry frowns, while that is certainly a serious offense, it’s not one that would or should allow for this level of extreme measure.
“And?” He asks, hearing the irritation creeping into his own tone. But he can’t help it. Niall is being too evasive. It’s not like him, and it’s grating on Harry’s already frayed nerves.
Niall swallows hard. It’s obvious he wants to keep stalling but he finally just spits it out.
“Performing black magic to commit the murder of another witch.” He raises his hand then to run it through his already disheveled light brown hair, and Harry notices it’s shaking. “A gruesome murder, ritualistic in nature. They say it was premeditated.”
That is certainly bad enough, but Harry can see it on Niall’s face that there’s more.
“And?” He asks again, not any less irritated this time.
Niall sighs deeply.
“And they say they have evidence that suggests he’s planning to do it again.”