chapter 4

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"On TV or computer"
'Talking'
*thoughts*
#when talking with death on mirrors#
~lyrics~
(The day and time skips)
[How many day have past]
{Peoples prov's}
:AN:
<dream>
#flashback#
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Nestled in the small cupboard, Harry looked to the small shelf and selected one of the three books that were on it. She didn't have any actual books of her own, but she liked to think the copies of 'Witches', 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes', and 'Where the Wild Things Are', that she stole from Dudley's second room when they lived back in Surrey. Her cousin never read anything other than the titles of food and the script in video games, and Harry even doubted that. He wouldn't miss anything.

Harry chose the thickest of the three volumes, written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. While she loved the other two, the assortment of mysteries fought of boredom more successfully, as she wasn't the slightest bit tired and had some time to kill before she was let out a nine o'clock to use the loo.

She was currently in the middle of the adventure "The Sign of Three," and was so deeply immersed in the works of Conan Doyle, that she barely took note that the doorbell had rung.

Harry's mind absently wondered who the two guests were, but was far more concerned with Holmes and Watson.

She quite admired the deductive capabilities of Sherlock and would occasionally try to discover the workings inside the house of the Dursley's'. There, Harry had discovered she had a little skill. Natural Instinct, she called it. With it, she tried to solve the crimes alongside the duo of Holmes and Watson but had little luck. Conan Doyle was simply too good an author.

Harry was so wrapped up, that she had a stray thought to recognize the quiet footsteps outside the cupboard as Aunt Petunia walking to the lavatory. Later, she would realize that the steps were too solid and far apart to be her Auntie, so the walker had longer legs and strolled with more confidence. 'Always be aware,' she would say. But that wasn't until later, which was why she was understandably surprised when her teenage librarian opened her door instead.

Maka Albarn, Harry quickly remembered., was bent over, craning her head to peer into her bedroom door. Frozen with shock, neither spoke for what seemed like several minutes but was only a couple of seconds. Finally, Miss Albarn opened her mouth to speak, but only closed shortly after, leaving her to look quite like a fish.

Harry then tried to use her 'Natural Instinct,' rather than talk. She looked at her librarian for clues on the situation. She seemed to look no more different than usual, other than her lack of coat. Seeing as its warm out today, it was likely that she could have left it at home, but she remembered that she wore it in the warm setting of the library, so it was most likely that she was here for the dinner, and had taken it off to send off a good message. Harry doubted that she was the relative who was coming over, as Miss Albarn was distinctly Asian, and the Evans, she knew, was not Asian. That left her to be over for the late lunch she prepared, probably as a friend to whoever her cousin was.

Harry smiled at her deductive reasoning.

Maka, on the other hand, struggled with the concept that this small child was a witch. It was so obvious, yet so impossible. She decided that the best course of action would be to call Soul instead. Ignoring the problem at hand, she reached into her shirt pocket and grabbed the small embarrassing flip phone she got from her father. Holding the pink and flower-covered device tightly, she sent out a quick text to Soul in the other room.

Maka and Harry still stayed silent.

'That was so not cool, Making me walk all the way over here' Soul said once he reached the end of the hallway that Maka way in, secretly pleased at the current predicament despite his actions. Maka gestured to the open cupboard that he could now see had a little gold lock with a bent and black bobby pin sticking out of it. Stepping next to his partner, Soul chuckled.

'My, my, Maka, Someone's a naughty girl' Ignoring Soul, Maka gestures to the open door. Soul peaks in the door expecting cleaning supplies or knowing Maka, a dead body, but instead, he meets eyes with little green ones attached to a five or seven-year-old.

'.....Oh.' he finally says, seeing the little sign reading 'Harry's Room' while his partner impatiently taps her foot.

'She's the witch,' Maka says without meeting Soul's gaze.

'Oh.'

'That's all?! Oh?' The scythe miester violently whispered, a pout on her face. Harry, on the other hand, looked at them, though angered, with an otherwise blank expression.

'A witch?' Harry thought, her mind recalling her copy of "Witches" Roald Dahl.

Soul, still listening to his partner's rant, aimlessly started to wonder why his Aunt, Uncle, or cousin hadn't come down during the racket.

'Mak-' he started to interrupt, but the young girl in the cupboard beat him to it.

'I have all my toes, thank you! I swear I'm not wearing a mask, and look! My fingernails aren't even that long!' She said, holding out her hands as proof.

'-and you're always under reacti- what?' Miss Albarn spoke as if coming out of a daze, turning to the person who confronted her, her confident stature shrinking.

'Look! My spit isn't blue!' She demonstrated by spitting on her hand. 'My nose is small, and this is my hair!' Harry finished, tugging on a lock of red hair.

'I have no idea what you're talking about.' Soul said with a deadpan look.

'It doesn't matter, Soul! She's a witch!' That was when Soul really seemed to catch on to what Maka was saying, as all, well, most confusion disappeared from his features.

'OH!' He said loudly, quickly turning his arm into the black and red metal. 'She's a witch!'

The blood in Harry's face drained.

'Soul! Put that away! You're scaring her!' Miss Albarn said, noticing Harry's fear.

'You know her?' Soul asked, surprise in his red eyes.

'Um...Okay, this is gonna' be weird.' She says while she opens her arms wide and picks the small girl up. 'Soul, text Kidd and tell him we have a situation.'

'Let me go! This is kidnapping! Stop it!' Harry cried, squirming while Miss Albarn picked her up with surprisingly strong arms and carried her out the door.

____________________

Done

Sorry this took awhile I was working on a different story and I had to study for some assessments for school

Cousins {Discontinued for now}Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora